"Okay..." He eyes you sceptically. "I already did my best to inform you. I don't really…

"But that's not all! Some of the slaughterhouse apprentices went hiking by a nearby creek and saw a moose nibbling on an unidentified carcass!"

This isn't something unique. Various species of deer have been known to scavenge when plant food is scarce.

"Anyway..." He settles down. "There is more than enough evidence to justify a thorough search for the dread moose. Let's close the subject, before it turns into an argument."

Here is a man who has had more than his fair share of heated arguments -- and would, surprising as it may seem, prefer not to have any more.

"That does sound suspicious."

"And that's not all! Some of the slaughterhouse apprentices went hiking by a nearby creek and saw a moose nibbling on an unidentified carcass!"

"I think I've heard enough about the dread moose. Let's pick another one."

"Another one?" he seems angry for a second, but then settles down.

"I am 100% behind the dread moose. I utterly believe it exists."

"Of course you do."

"The bodies found in the forest are just one piece of physical evidence. There's more -- sightings in Vaasa, reaching back four centuries. But, of course, nothing satiates the scepticism of..."

"A detective." He finishes the sentence for him, then his tone turns surprising mild. "Pardon me, I did not wish to seek conflict. It's simply my training to question things."

"Understood, lieutenant." The man tips his hat slightly and then looks to you.

"You're right to." He gives you an approving tip of his hat. "The bodies found in the forest are just one piece of physical evidence. We also have sightings in Vaasa, reaching back four centuries."

"In fact, we may be close to capturing a live specimen. Modern genetic methods may prove crucial in differentiating the dread variant from the herbivorous one. Anyway..." He gestures for you to continue.

"The... dread moose?"

"Yes. The dread moose subsists entirely on flesh. It has even been known to dig up fresh graves in search of sustenance."

"I can try to guess."

"Believe me, you won't guess it. You either know, or you don't." He corrects his hat and says -- as if it's the most sensible thing in the world...

"That must be the evil apes dukin' it out on the giant ball."

"The what?"

"We are descended from evil apes and to apes we shall return."

"Oh, you're just talking about humans. Well, yes, we are quite dangerous, but we're hardly cryptids." He corrects his hat and says -- as if it's the most sensible thing in the world...

"The evil apes. I suspect I may be one myself."

"Just tell me about a cool cryptid. Any cryptid."

"No offence, officer, but I'm not much of a pedagogue -- I don't know what I would've done if Lena hadn't persuaded me to go back to field research. You should ask her, if you want interesting stories."

"Me -- I'm not a people person, unless you haven't noticed. And I don't make a good lecturer. My strength lies in field work and persistence." He brushes an errant strand of hair from his eye.

This is a gruff man who's been ridiculed too many times to feel comfortable talking about what's dearest to his heart. It's in his shoulders, his face, his... everything.

"Be friendly, dear," the woman says. "The detective really likes these critters, we've talked about them in great detail."

Now the man feels embarrassed. Time to move on perhaps?

"Oh," the woman chimes in. "Any time -- just ask. I know those critters in and out. Not quite at the level Morell does, but still..."

"I know about Cryobacter katlensis."

"Oh, everyone knows about that one, thanks to professor Mijanou being the talk of the town for a time..." He coughs in his fist.

A bit of jealousy there. He'd want that glory, truth be told. Even if he'd have to inject himself with bacteria to get it.

"Although -- probably because her life ended as a result of her work in Katla -- no one remembers her contributions to the search for the Nnong Okk."

"The Nnong Okk?"

"A flightless cursor owl found in the Semenine isles. Its long legs permit the Nnong Okk to run faster than any other avian, perhaps any other animal, who knows?"

"When it's not hunting its prey in this manner, the Okk hangs from tree branches, like a bat, waiting to dive on hapless prey below, on the jungle floor."

"Mijanou liked extreme animals, you see. One of the few figures of the academic establishment I respect. Really a shame she disappeared."

"When did she disappear?"

"Oh, decades ago. In the Thirties. I didn't know her personally, of course. A chasm of academic pretension still stood before us, even though she had unusual courage for someone from the other side."

"Better not to go into the Nnong Okk."

"Yes. Probably." Another cough. His face grows reddish from it.

"Which cryptid did you almost catch? You said before, that you almost caught one."

"They're not people, really -- some argue that they're not even animals, as they seem to have evolved directly from trees." He says it in a self-explanatory, every day manner.

"They're very, very thin, almost flat, in fact, and can camouflage themselves easily, wrapping themselves around trees and blending in with the tree bark. In that way, they're not too dissimilar from the phasmid we are looking for here."

"Wait, so I may have seen these willow people without knowing it?"

"You probably have!"

"How did you almost catch a willow person?"

"Gary and I painted an entire grove's worth of trees in slow-drying paint. It was a bright lavender colour. I was hoping one of the willow people would get paint on it and not be able to camouflage itself."

"After waiting in hiding for hours, I saw a figure slip from one of the trees, a lavender shadow dashing through the grove..."

"And then?"

"I chased it with a net -- not very elegant, but you can't be elegant in the field -- and, well, it was faster than me!"

"A lavender shadow..." He smirks.

"I know you think we were snacking on funny mushrooms. It's easier to mock someone than to admit that the world might be more interesting than you've imagined."

"Furthermore," he raises his finger. "I am not saying it was a confirmed sighting. I am painfully aware of what goes into verifying such things. There is a serious possibility that I saw a squirrel, or a trick of the light. I am my own harshest critic."

He makes it a real point here -- to sound falsifiable.

"And Lena's sighting of the Phasmid. Is that..."

"Confirmed," he replies quickly. "It's 100% verified and meets all the standards of an authentic cryptid sighting."

The woman nods, thoughtfully, while her hands smooth over the plaid covering her knees.