📡 Woof Dot Dash

“I was just munching away, and then… I heard something. Like… a frequency stuck between bites.” — Fluffy 🐾

Still nibbling through the crunchy remains of Hashi Munch, Fluffy paused mid-chew. Something was different. Between the tasty little hex crumbs, he felt… a hum. A pulse. A rhythm that didn’t belong to hashes.

“Dots... dashes... this wasn’t a snack. It was a signal.”

He stopped chewing and perked up his whiskers — the fuzzy feelers of every seasoned vault-paw. And sure enough, the file wasn’t just encoded… it was humming with intent. Fluffy wasn’t reading bytes anymore. He was tuning in.

It wasn’t quite language. Not any he knew. No alphabet, no syntax — just patterns. Tiny bursts of something… purposeful. Repetitive. Like a tap-tap here… and a longer one there.

He scribbled in his fluff-journal:

“There’s rhythm in the silence. But I don’t speak this. I might need one of those old stone-tablet things that humans used to crack ancient codes…”

A Rosetta Stone, perhaps? 📜

The signal is still there. Still echoing. Still waiting for someone to understand what it’s trying to say.

Can you help Fluffy decode the pulse of the unknown?