Chapter 3: Captured
It had been three days. Wayra was not optimistic.
First, taller people had been difficult to find. Second, the ones that he had found didn't even try to talk to him; they just drew their weapons and sent him running off into the brush.
He was hungry. He had gotten lucky because he had found some wild mulberries and had plenty of those to get through the second night, but only enough to snack on yesterday. But that was yesterday, and he was out of them now. The gurgling noises and hollow feeling made him press a hand to his belly.
He'd hit a fork in the road. The first option was to turn inland and follow that road for many miles to go around a steep cliff cove... or go through a cave that was revealed during low tide. He wasn't afraid of the dark cave, but he was a little afraid of the other travelers using it. Plus, he had overheard some merchants talking about slimes in the caves.
He'd never seen a slime, but they sounded scary with their ability to catch and dissolve things. Even so, walking inland would cause him to be less familiar with the flora and fauna, and that would make it nearly impossible to feed himself.
He decided to do his best to avoid both aggressive types of beings as he passed through the cove.
The tide was not at its lowest point yet, so he waited until he felt he couldn't see or hear any new adventuring Tall people through the caves, and then he moved in... only to come almost face-to-face with some that were cooking something just inside the caves.
The smell of food made his stomach cramp immediately. They were frying some sort of thinly sliced, fatty meat and buttery bread. I am so hungry.
"Kobold!" the cook yelled, grabbing at a kitchen knife.
His empty stomach clenched, and Wayra ran. There were three other Talls there, and he didn't want to fight any of them.
Heavy steps echoed behind him, and when Wayra glanced back, he saw a blond elven man in armor already chasing him. "Where'd you get that sword?"
Wayra pretended he didn't speak any common and kept running, desperate to escape the situation, even though he felt weak. He saw a little crevice, and hoping it went even deeper, he dove into it, wedging himself in as tight as he could go, praying the man would pass him by.
She was drawn to the clanging sound of the metal pans. She had learned recently that metal things could also be pretty tasty, even more than crystals coated in salt. One of the loud things had dropped a dagger a few days ago when she had loomed over him from the roof of the cave. She had gotten a lot bigger after eating it.
She still didn't really understand the loud things, but she did find that since eating the angry water rock, she could tell they were saying something. It was communication somewhat similar to what the water aura ghost in the stone had been trying to make her understand, even though she ignored it. It wasn't much like the vibrations and touches that she shared with her siblings.
It helped that she could see that their faces changed based on sounds, that they had become more than just heat and sound to her, but also color and movement with small changes she couldn't perceive before.
It also meant when the short, not even quite three feet high, spindly, blue thing ran away from the other loud things, she recognized that he was entirely unlike the usual creatures that passed through here. He was shaking and gasping for air like the very first warm thing she'd encountered.
Wrong way, she thought as he cornered himself, right beneath her, that little dip in the wall is not even your own height deep. The elven man was still chasing him. They did that sometimes to her siblings when they were too foolish to stay away; countless slimes died this way.
The blue thing's pointy thing is on his back. He didn't draw it. She didn't put much more thought into it. The little blue thing made a terrified squeak as he realized he was cornered and had chosen his hiding spot poorly. She just let herself fall from the ceiling over him, engulfing him all at once.
She made certain that no part of him was outside of her, hardening parts of herself where his feet and hands tried to paddle at her and claw her. He was not even as pointy as some of the gem coves she explored; she made a relieved little burble. He cannot hurt me even if he wants to.
She also made herself denser when he tried to reach behind him and get at the pointy thing on his back; she found she was stronger than he was, and he couldn't move through her if she didn't want him to.
Learning to see after the angry rock also taught her something else: she could see herself on the rocks when she was not careful. She had a purple color, like her favorite gems to eat, but when she focused, she could make herself look like other colors. She could make herself look like the gray stone walls of the cavern, so that was what she did.
The loud and tall thing looked right at her with her squirmy, warm blue thing inside her, but then he kept scanning the room before dashing deeper into the cave.
A thrilled quiver passed through her. That was my third time trying it, and it worked again! And this time, with something squirming around inside of me.
She was quite pleased with herself.
As for the wriggling thing, it was interesting being this close to something that moved. The green growing things that she sometimes ate from the ocean floor were also moving, but they never kept moving after she had them. He was no longer going for the sword on his back, though, but clawing at his face. The movements seemed more frantic, so she rearranged herself on him so that she was no longer pressing around his face and he could reach his nose.
His chest heaved; she felt movement of air, some definite gasping. She hummed because she didn't interact with air like this, but she sensed him go all limp within her as if the tension had left him. He must need access to air. She felt guilty, so she adjusted herself so that there was more of an open space within her to provide plenty of air.
He sat and shivered; she imagined he was like the warm thing she had eaten the magic rock off of, and he didn't really like to have her on him. She could eat him, if she wanted to, and while he was dirty and minerally, his scales were flavorless. She decided to just dissolve all the dirt he had brought from strange places to her, and she also chose to eat whatever this thing wrapped around him was. It had the texture of thick seaweed but was much stiffer and more interesting.
He tried to flail, patting at his body everywhere she bubbled things off him, but she didn't mind; he was stuck until the loud thing gave up looking for him in the deeper cave.
Now, also, he had this metal thing wrapped in leather. That seemed delicious; she was going to eat that too.
One moment, Wayra was debating whether he should run or try to just crouch down and blend in, and the next moment, she was completely around him, filling the whole space in the wall. This purple slime was massive.
It was warm, almost smoldering, and it left him feeling wet and slick everywhere its body touched his. He thrashed to escape, but it didn't help, and he felt the gloopy body passing between his fingers and toes.
He could see faintly out of the purple gloop at first. Wayra saw the elven man charging down the tunnel toward them, and then it seemed as if it got more rigid and dense around him. After that, he could see nothing at all, only feel the slime. His lungs began to burn for want of air. He reached back for the sword, hoping that perhaps he could cut his way out of her, but it got so firm he could barely move at all.
I need to breathe, he thought, the soggy slime insides pressing at his nostrils, and he didn't think he'd ever get them clean if he took a breath. He tried to reach up, claw at his nose, and make a void in these heated surroundings, but it wasn't helping.
As if the slime realized what he wanted, a space formed. The air was hot; it smelled earthy and like the ocean, but he was able to breathe.
Relief flooded through him for a moment; he wasn't going to suffocate after all.
He wondered if the man chasing him had given up? Could he see him stuck in a slime right now? He couldn't see out of his captor.
Then a bubbling sensation followed, tickling along his scales, to the space deep between each of them, against his skin beneath his mane and mohawk, between every finger, every toe, and even under his claws. His clothes began to dissolve around him, and he found fresh reasons to flail. She's eating me!
"Let go!" he yelled for all that he was worth. "Get off of me!"