Skurg saw the opportunity from within his glass shell. In the middle of the crowded great hall, lit only with the amber light of the sky above, surrounded by a vast array of creatures inside of glass boxes, waving their arms around and shouting at potential candidates, he just walked right on over to him. The wizard was tall, far taller than most other humans, and wore a flowing magenta robe over a white gown, the robe kept mostly closed by a golden pin, engraved with ancient runes and carvings of dragons. The ends of his sleeves were held tight by grey wool wrappings around his wrists, that made the sleeves look baggy and bunched up. His robe had a pointed hood attached to it, and his warty, pointed nose and long white beard and mustache poked out from it, the beard separated into two intricate braids. He held a tan, leather-bound tome in his arms, which had a dragon sigil written in blood on the cover. His fingers were stained with ink, yet his nails were kept perfectly trimmed, and were well cleaned.
"Oi there, mistah, pick me! I'm a might' good familia', I am! Pick me, an' ye won' be disappoin'ed!" Skurg called out to the wizard.
The wizard looked him over, emerald eyes scanning everything from the knobbly top of his head,to the red, bumpy mushrooms on his shoulders ,to his pointed gray toeless feet. The wizard looked at the bottom of the glass box and read his name-tag.
"Skurg, is it? I'm afraid I'm not interested in imps. Do you know where I could find a Jinn?" the wizard spoke in an Oxford accent.
Skurg's hearts sank into his stomach- literally, his hearts are very mobile and quite heavy.
"Oh, are ye sure ye wan' a stupid Jinn? Those Jinn, they don' know a dragon from a redcap!" Skurg said, cupping a two fingered hand two his fanged mouth.
"Oh, I'm very sure I want a Jinn as a familiar. Thank you for the offer, but I will be leaving now,"
"No! Come back- idio' wizard!" Skurg shouted as the wizard swaggered away in the direction of the spiked help desk, "aaargh! Another missed oppurtuni'y!"
After the rest of the day passed, no one else had came to Skurg, and the crowd began to dwindle as the pipes sucked the familiars out of their glass boxes, through the glass tubes, and into their shelf-sized apartments.
Skurg was dropped right on to his bed. His apartment was fairly cozy, with a soft, fluffy blanket, a teddy bear, a glass screen, and all that. Sure, it was only large enough to fit his bed, and everyone could watch him sleep, and no human could even fit their arm in, but it was home. With that last happy thought, Skurg went to sleep, eager for the next day to become a familiar.