A Still Standoff

The floor was cool against my legs. I blinked, realizing my eight limbs could move. Very slowly, I crept one leg forward across the tile grout line. Just across from me stood a small blue-and-white figure with pointed dark hair, arms crossed, perfectly still. I paused, watching closely. It did not flinch or strike. Cautiously, I tapped my front tip against the groove between the tiles, deciding to settle quietly in my spot.