Bog, you are a rare and radiant creature. Like a cryptid sighting in the mist, like a beautifully deranged eldritch horror offering a tender, slimy embrace--thank you for the gift(s), always most cursed and delightful. Perhaps courting cosmic horrors beyond mortal comprehension is my calling, whispering sweet nothings beyond. You have seen me, and for that I am both grateful and vaguely concerned. But more than the game, thank you for thinking of me. In a world that often feels indifferent, that means more than I can say. So thank you. May your days be filled with small joys, may your burdens be a little lighter, and may you always receive the exact number of tentacles you desire (and not a single one more). You are appreciated, and you are not alone.