Barely an inch long, pygmy squid, or dwarf cuttlefish, depending on one's systematic bent, are the smallest living cephalopods. But these minute cousins of extant kraken have lost none of the raptorial prowess that might have granted decapodiforms overwhelming mastery of the high seas, as tentacled dreadnoughts of open waters and icons of destruction from the deep, were it not for the propensity of their class to perish after a single bout of procreative instincts.
For the victims of a puny beak, however, the salad days of Idiosepius probably last far too long for comfort, posing as it does an existential threat to carideans, mysids and other minuscule crustaceans trapped in the same shallow pools as their slayer. Aglow with cells that mirror the moods of their beholder, pygmy squid hunt in intertidal basins, seagrass beds and southern reef flats, where they soar over the substrate, staying beyond reach of sweeping antennae until they single one body out and swoop in to snare a leggy carapace. The struggle ends with a decisive bite and the miniature monster earns a measure of sustenance that adds to its bulk and beefs up its chances for a go at maturity. At other times, the animals drift with limp artifice or stick their flanks to marine foliage or floating debris using adhesive dorsal glands. The squid have also been observed to graze on epibenthic meiofauna, and when fully grown, initiate couplings of unequal stature that end in buccal penetration and yield a fruitful series of spawnings before the female, like her drained and long-dead mate, succumbs to the strain of fatal passions.