As the slime got closer to the fire, the ones chasing it had barely any room left for complaining or catching their breath.
"How is it that fast?!"
"What even is that thing?"
"Wait, isn't it heading straight for the village!?"
For better or worse, they were right. Within seconds, the slime was only a few meters from the village gate guards, who snapped to attention the moment they heard something rustling through the grass.
"Hm? What's that?"
"Hey! Come out of there."
One of the guards called toward whoever was behind the plants, tightening his grip on the torch as he stepped forward.
The slime paused mid-hop. These creatures smelled different from everything in the forest, not like dirt or leaves or the tiger it had eaten; sharper and smokier, with something else underneath, metal, maybe, though it didn't have a word for that yet. They stood still in ways trees didn't, watching and waiting. The slime's attention drifted back to the warm thing one of them held. That mattered more.
"Hey! Stop it!" someone yelled from far behind. The guard didn't get enough time to think because the slime had already reached its target.
"Aaah!" he screamed as a blue blob latched onto his hand. The sensation surprised the slime too, warm skin, rapid heartbeat thrumming beneath the surface, a bitter taste of fear-sweat. Interesting, but not what it wanted. It released him and shifted focus.
The guard stumbled back, heart pounding, and dropped the torch. His fellow guard rushed to check on him, but froze when another group appeared in the distance.
"Hey! Stay away from it!" Hearing that, the standing guard dragged his fallen partner back as fast as he could, eyes glued to the strange blue creature. "What in the world...?"
Under the tense stares of the guards and hunters, the slime moved toward its target, curiosity buzzing through its membrane.
What's this?
Does it taste good?
Is it like the thing that bit me?
And why... heat?
The strange warmth coming from the torch pulled at something in the slime's awareness: Heat was still new. The cave had been cold, the forest is less so. But this was different, concentrated, alive somehow. It pushed past the uncomfortable intensity and reached for the flame.
Nothing.
The slime tried again, pressing its membrane against the dancing light. Still nothing to grasp, nothing to dissolve. The heat grew sharper, almost painful, but there was no substance to absorb, not even to touch.
"Was it following the fire?"
"Shut up, you'll get its attention."
"Someone call the chief, now!"
Come to think of it, fire wasn't like anything it had encountered. Everything so far had fallen into categories: 'very solid' like rock or tiger, 'not very solid' like plants, and 'water' for water. Mud had confused it briefly, both solid and not, but eventually fit into a modified understanding.
Fire, though... fire couldn't be touched or eaten. It gave off heat unlike everything else, moved like it was alive, but disappeared when the slime pressed against it, cutting off whatever made it dance.
The flame went out beneath the slime's weight, smothered, leaving only a smoking stick. The warmth faded quickly, leaving the slimes with more questions.
Confusion rippled through the slime's form. Had it eaten the fire? But there was no fullness, no satisfaction. Just an absence where the interesting thing had been.
"What's going on here?" came a deep, irritated voice along with heavy footsteps and a whole crowd behind it. Everyone turned, including the slime.
Too many sounds now. Too many of the two-legged creatures, all making different noises at once. The slime's blob form couldn't separate them well enough; everything blurred together into an overwhelming sensation.
The slime contracted, considering. The tiger-shape had eyes, proper ears, and a nose that separated scents into individual threads rather than mixing them all together. Worth the limitation of being less flexible.
The transformation felt smoother this time, more intentional. The striped blue tiger stood where the blob had been moments before.
"See!? I told you the tiger melted!" someone shouted as he led a group toward the slime-tiger. From behind the tall wooden fence, a cluster of two-legged, horned creatures appeared, the ogres. They wore sturdy crimson coverings, armour, though the slime had no name for it, and carried more of those sharp, not-tasty things.
At the front stood a tall young one with short curly crimson hair growing from his head, light red skin, and long fangs protruding from his mouth. His armour was cleaner and shinier than the rest, catching the torchlight. A single-edged blade hung at his hip in a decorated covering.
The slime watched him with the tiger's eyes, cataloguing: bigger than most, moves differently, others look at him without making noises. 'Important' The concept was vague but present.
"Your Highness, my squad encountered this creature near the village during our night patrol. It looked like it was drawn to the fire, maybe seeking warmth," the patrol leader said calmly. His dark blue hair swayed lightly in the wind.
The slime's ears swivelled, tracking the sounds. That one spoke calmly, differently from the others who'd chased it through the forest. And the way he positioned himself, slightly behind the bigger one with the shinier clothes, suggested something the slime couldn't quite grasp. 'Hierarchy'? The concept was foggy, but the pattern was there: some stood in front, some stood behind.
"Did I hear that right? Doesn't that mean it passed through the barrier?" the prince asked, studying the tiger. He'd never seen a tiger with colours like that, and its stillness felt strangely ominous. It hasn't even growled since I arrived.
The slime didn't understand the sounds they made, but the patterns were interesting. Some sounds repeated: short ones that punctuated longer ones, rising and falling tones. Not random like wind through leaves, more intentional.
'Communication'
The patrol leader hesitated. He didn't know either.
The prince barely kept himself together. He didn't have a clear picture of the situation, and thinking too long didn't feel wise with an unpredictable tiger staring him down. He finally reached for his sword when—
The slime's attention sharpened. That one was moving toward the sharp thing at his side. Every other creature that'd pulled sharp things had tried to poke the slime with them. Not tasty at all, it wondered why they kept offering it those untasty pieces of metal and wood.
"Hmph! And here I thought you trusted my skills." A familiar, annoyed female voice came from behind him, making him whip around.
New scent. The slime's nose twitched, processing: younger than the first one, sweeter somehow, less of the bitter-sharp smell the others carried.
In clearer words, the slime smelled no fear-scent at all.
"What are you doing here?!" he barked at his sister. She had slipped past the other warriors, her long pink hair swaying as she stepped forward in a matching Y-shaped robe tied with a wide belt.
"No need to keep your weapons up," she said, motioning for everyone to lower them. "It's harmless."
The sharp things lowered. No food? The slime relaxed slightly, though it kept watching the big one who'd almost offered—drawn his blade.
"Wait!" The prince, her brother, grabbed her arm, stopping her from walking up to the tiger. "What makes you so sure? That's no ordinary tiger! It passed the barrier!"
"Yes yes, we know. And that's exactly why I'm sure it's safe," she said, slipping out of his grip and heading toward the slime-tiger. "Hey—!"
She was approaching alone. Without sharp, untasty things. The slime watched her come closer, noting the difference in her movements, slower, hands visible and empty, no aggressive stance. More like how it approached the fire: curious, not threatening.
"The barrier stops 'anything that might harm the village' or 'anyone hostile toward us'. Remember?" she added, glancing back just once. "And since it passed through... it isn't dangerous."
She slowly reached out.
'Sweet' Not food-sweet, the slime had tasted sweet things before, the herbs and mushrooms, but this was different; pleasant in a way that had nothing to do with hunger. Her hand moved to its neck, gentle pressure, rhythmic stroking that sent unfamiliar sensations through the tiger's body nerves.
'Good' This is good.
When her fingers scratched under its chin, the slime leaned into the touch without thinking, chasing the feeling.
Happy, it thought, though the word was barely formed, more sensation than language.
The emptiness that had crept back after the thread dissolved seemed smaller now, pushed aside by this discovery. Touch could feel good; other creatures could make things feel good without being eaten.
Fortunately for her, that very thought kept the slime from pondering her taste.
"It's friendly now, but who knows when that might change..." the prince warned, sounding resigned. A few ogres let out relieved sighs; the ones who saw the arrow pass through the slime-tiger without harming it, none of them wanted to fight something like this.
The slime barely noticed; the touching continued, and that was all that mattered.
More of them are approaching now, the slime could smell each one individually, some nervous, some curious, some still carrying that bitter-sharp scent. But the pink-haired one kept touching, so it stayed still.
"The patrol said it dissolved their spears, won't the same thing happen to our hands?"
"But the princess seems fine."
"I've never seen a colour like that."
"Are you sure it won't get mad if we pet it?"
"What are you talking about? Of course I'm keeping it. It's so fluffy!" the princess announced, wrapping her arms around its neck and burying her face in its fur.
The pressure increased, full embrace now instead of gentle touching. The slime processed: not too odd, just... more. More contact, more warmth, more of that good feeling. It didn't pull away.
"Eh!?" was the only reaction she got.
"Princess, that's dangerous!"
"Shouldn't you ask the chief first?!"
"How are we supposed to sleep with that thing in the village?!"
"Please rethink this!"
The sounds grew louder, sharper, and multiple creatures started making noise at once. The slime's ears flattened slightly, too much input again, but the pink-haired one's grip didn't change, still steady and warm.
"What are you even saying?" the prince muttered, straightening up and glaring at the slime-tiger. "You don't even know what it is. What do you think Father's reaction will be when he hears about this? If you can't get rid of it, then we'll have to."
The slime caught the tone shift even without understanding words. The big one's voice had gone harder, and several others gripped their sharp things tighter. It felt the atmosphere was changing, turning denser, more tense, even without knowing the why.
Food offer again? While he wouldn't normally refuse, it risked the pink-haired one to let go, so he kept still.
Silence settled for a few seconds. Everyone waited for the princess's reply. The prince's meaning was clear, but she didn't budge.
"How long is this going to drag on?" came an old, familiar voice, behind him again.
New scent, older. The slime's nose picked it up immediately: aged skin, old metal, something else underneath the slime couldn't grasp, quite different from others.
"What now?... Wait, shouldn't you be asleep, old man? Shouldn't everyone be asleep?!" The prince gaped when he saw a crowd of villagers gathered at the gate, peeking in. The whole place was lit up again with torches.
More fires. The slime's attention flickered toward them briefly, remembering the disappointment of the first one disappearing. These were higher up, out of reach, dancing the same way.
"Heh, hard to sleep with all this noise. Besides..." The old man walked lightly toward the prince, long white hair covering his left eye. "Ugh!"
"Call me Master," he said as he jabbed the prince's stomach with the pommel of his sword. "What a strange tiger you've all found." He stepped closer to examine it.
The slime watched him approach. This one moved differently, a new, weird type of motion and absolutely no fear-scent. The pink-haired one tightened her hold, ready to argue back against anything he said, and the slime felt her tension through the embrace.
He leaned in, locking eyes with the tiger as if he were looking beyond its gaze into something distant.
The slime met his stare.
This was different from the others' looks, and for the first time, it felt a very strange sensation: 'Uncomfortable' was the way the slime understood it.
The slime held still, uncertain whether to pull back or stay. The feeling wasn't hostile, but it wasn't comfortable either. Being seen this way activated some deep instinct it didn't know it had.
After a long moment, the old man pulled back, breaking eye contact, and with it, the uncomfortable sensation faded.
This old one had looked like he was searching for something specific, like the slime's membrane was transparent and he could see straight through to... what? The slime didn't know. Didn't like not knowing, even hated it.
"To be honest, this tiger seems surprisingly peaceful. Too peaceful, actually," the sword sage remarked as he scratched his beard. "I don't see a problem with keeping it. But your father will certainly scold you, haha."
"Yay!" the princess cheered, burying her face even deeper into the slime-tiger's fur.
The pressure increased again, accompanied by a high-pitched sound, 'joy'? The slime still didn't understand, but the emotion was clear enough. Whatever had just happened, the pink-haired one was happy about it.
"Wait, I didn't agree to— ngh!" The prince tried to protest, but the sage poked him in the stomach again. "Everyone wants to sleep already. Save the arguing for tomorrow," the sage said firmly.
"Fine. Everyone back inside! You two, finish your patrol."
The crowd began to disperse. The slime watched as creatures moved away, torches bobbing in the darkness, sounds fading, and the tension in the air dissipated with them.
"Come on! Let's go!" The princess tugged the tiger's head with all her strength, but the slime didn't understand what she wanted. The touching had stopped, replaced by pulling. Uncomfortable. It stayed rooted.
She had to use her secret animal-luring technique.
She made a different sound then, softer than before. The slime tilted its head, processing. Not the sharp barking noises from earlier. Gentler, rising and falling in a pattern almost like... an invitation?
"Grr grr grr, come here~" she said, lowering her hand and offering a chin-scratch invitation.
Ah. The good touch might happen again.
The slime stepped forward, following her hand. She walked backwards at the same pace, keeping the distance steady, hand always just within reach. The slime followed, focused entirely on the promise of more pleasant sensations, barely noticing they were moving through an opening in the wooden structure.
"Wow! Is that a tiger?"
"It's so fluffy and soft!"
"Can I ride it?!"
Kids gathered around with wide eyes.
Small ones appeared, smaller versions of the two-legged creatures, moving faster, making higher sounds. One reached out, and tiny fingers brushed the slime's fur; gentle and curious, like the pink-haired one but less controlled.
The slime paused, examining them. Same basic shape as the big ones, same horn protrusions, but different proportions. Smaller hands, higher voices, less of that bitter-sharp smell. 'Cubs'? 'Offspring'? The concept was vague but present in the tiger's instincts.
Another small hand touched its side. Then another. Multiple contact points, all gentle, all curious. The sensation was overwhelming but not unpleasant, like the pink-haired one's touching but multiplied, scattered across its body.
Good. Different from one source, more chaotic, but still good.
Their parents dragged them away soon after, and the small ones made disappointed sounds as they were pulled back. The slime watched them go, confused by the interruption. They hadn't tried to hurt it. Why stop?
The pink-haired one tugged again, and the slime resumed following, still processing everything looked so 'organised', unlike the chaotic nature, creatures of different sizes that communicated in patterns, organised groups that moved with purpose.
Nothing in the cave had prepared it for this, nothing in the forest either.
The white thread had led it out of the cave toward... what? The slime didn't know. But the following had been right. Following had brought it to new experiences, new sensations, new understandings, so it wasn't that bad, maybe.
Now it was following again, pulled by the promise of good touching and surrounded by more newness than it could fully comprehend. The emptiness that had plagued it since the thread dissolved felt distant now, replaced by new, interesting inputs.
Was this what it had been searching for? The slime didn't know. Couldn't know. It only knew that the pink-haired creature seemed to want it to follow, and following had always led somewhere interesting.
So it followed, striped blue tiger padding through the ogre village.