Consciousness returned slowly, accompanied by the full-body ache that reminded Thristle of the time she'd fallen from the old oak tree – except this was worse. Much worse. For a moment, she couldn't remember where she was or how she'd gotten there. Then it came back in a rush – the well, the crumbling stone, the fall. She should be dead, or at least properly broken. Instead, she felt battered and bruised, but somehow whole – a miracle she couldn't quite explain.

Her eyes adjusted gradually to a faint greenish glow emanating from patches of luminous moss that clung to the stone walls. There was a speck of sunlight from a hole in the ceiling, far beyond reach. In that feeble light, the details emerged, and her stomach lurched. What she'd first taken for scattered rocks were bones – massive bear skulls and tangled ribcages that told a story she didn't want to read. "Well," she muttered in that nervous habit she'd never quite broken, "at least they're not human bones. Though I suppose that's not much comfort, considering."

As her eyes fully adjusted to the gloom, details of the chamber emerged. Ancient pillars rose from the floor like silent guardians, their surfaces worn smooth by time and moisture. One lay toppled, its break fresh enough that pale stone showed through the cracks. "Knowing my luck," she said to the darkness, "that's probably my fault." She tried to imagine explaining this to Rose – "You see, I was just having a look down this ancient well..." She could already picture Rose's exasperated expression.

In the distance, she could hear the slow, rhythmic dripping of water echoing off the dank walls. She licked her lips, realizing how parched she was. The air smelled of rot and decay, with an underlying musk of something foul and feral. She called out, her voice thin and reedy in the thick darkness, adding a few mangled foreign words she'd picked up, hoping against hope that someone might hear her cries and come to her aid. But who was she kidding? She was way too far down, buried under all this old rubble. Rose wouldn't even start looking for her until evening, and who would think of checking an ancient well? " Always getting yourself into trouble," she mimicked Rose's voice. "Can't you just wait five minutes?". Why hadn't she just waited until tomorrow to explore with Rose? Her impatience had always been her downfall.

As the reality of her situation sank in, something stirred in the darkness—a sound, then silence. Something else lurked down here in the abyss with her, something alive and undoubtedly hungry. "Oh, please don't be what I think you are," she whispered.

Movement caught her eye – a massive bear skull peering at her from around a corner. Something was wrong about its placement; it hung suspended at an unnatural height, gleaming with an oily sheen in the dim light. As she watched, frozen, the rest of the creature connected to it emerged from the shadows. It was like nothing she'd ever seen – a massive, translucent form that moved with terrible fluidity. Bones floated within its gelatinous body like grisly trophies, and the bear skull, now drifting toward its center, served as a grotesque face for the mountainous slime.

"Bet this one's not helping with just the garden pests," she muttered, thinking of Reed's words about the small slimes. Her hand flew to her belt, body tensing as she grabbed the handle of her knife. A chilling realization struck – the gargantuan slime was almost twice her height and must have weighed at least a thousand stones, its acidic body capable of dissolving steel.

She rummaged through her pouches, trying to think. She had to have something to deal with slimes, right? But her mind was going blank, her pulse pounding in her ears. The powder, mostly used on medium ones, dissolving them, might slow it down if she could find it in time.

As the creature loomed closer, she scrambled backward, her hand frantically searching her belt pouches. In a blind panic, she grabbed one and hurled it at the beast. Too late, she realized her mistake – it wasn't the right one at all. Which one was it then? Her money purse? Her packet of precious seeds? She watched in horror as the pouch slowly dissolved in the creature's translucent mass, then she caught a glint of gold.

The golden, sweet honey drops slowly melt within its gelatinous body. "Those were for bribing my way back into people's good graces," she complained while scrambling and spinning to flee, but the massive form crashed into her like a gelatinous wave. The impact drove the air from her lungs as the creature's bulk pressed her against its undulating surface. Her cheek smashed against the membrane, and a strangled gasp escaped her throat at the unsettling sensation – it wasn’t the usual slime coolness, it was uncomfortably lukewarm. Through the translucent wall of its flesh, she watched in horrified fascination as thousands of tiny bubbles danced and swirled within its mass. "Oh, this is properly disgusting," she managed to sputter, trying not to think about how the creature's surface seemed to pulse against her skin like a heartbeat.

Time seemed to stretch as panic gripped her. She could still see the partially melted golden honey drops from her pouch, now warped and stretching like golden tears as they slowly dissolved into threads of amber that spread through the creature's mass like infected veins.

Her heart thundered against the creature's embrace as she desperately tried to think of a way to escape before the beast would consume her. In her frantic struggle to wrench free, she pushed against the monster's surface and watched in terror as her arm sank up to the elbow into its gelatinous mass. The sensation was impossible to process – like plunging her arm into warm pudding filled with writhing worms. She could feel the currents within its body tugging at her flesh, tiny eddies of fluid swirling between her fingers making her skin crawl.

Her breath nearly stopped as she waited for the burning sensation of dissolution, but it never came. Instead, the massive slime released its hold on her body – all except for her trapped arm. Before she could process this strange turn of events, the creature began to move, dragging her awkwardly along as her feet scrambled to find purchase on the uneven ground.

"If you're planning to eat me," she found herself muttering, falling back on her habit of nervous chatter, "I probably taste absolutely terrible. Just ask anyone in the village – they'll tell you I'm nothing but trouble and likely to give you indigestion." The slime's only response was to continue its steady pace, pulling her along.

Then without warning the creature paused, giving Thristle enough time to brace her legs against a crack and pull hard. Slowly with a squelching sound, she started to extract her arm, managing to free her forearm inch by inch, until the monster's grasp contracted tight around her wrist. She grimaced at the viscous residue coating her skin, fighting back a wave of revulsion. Her left hand instinctively reached for the dissolving powder, but the pouch lay somewhere behind them, dropped in the chaos when the slime first dragged her along.

She awkwardly pulled out her knife, weighing her options with trembling fingers. A hysterical laugh bubbled up in her throat as she found herself considering the blade's placement - wrist or monster? She knew she could never bring herself to do it, knew it was the kind of desperate thought that only surfaced when terror stripped away reason, but for one mad moment she pictured herself sawing through flesh and bone to escape. The knife wavered in her grip as nausea rolled through her at the mere thought.

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In the blink of an eye, a part of the creature formed a slimy tentacle that grabbed around the sharp edge, and wrenched it out of her hand, putting it deep within the slime's body, leaving only sticky residue on her fingers. "That was rude," she informed it with a shaking voice, trying to mask her growing fear with indignation.

The massive creature continued through the tunnel, moving at a more measured pace now, as if deliberately allowing her to walk alongside it, still tethered by her trapped hand. Helpless to do otherwise, she stumbled behind it. They passed through a collapsed wall section, entering what appeared to be a natural cave. The slime pulled her through a narrow opening, dragging her into the morning light that suddenly flooded her vision, harsh and blinding after the darkness of the tunnels.

As she stood there, squinting against the light and trying to get her bearings, her stomach betrayed her with a loud rumble. The upper portion of the slime shifted toward her, looming. The bear's skull tilted as if in curiosity. Then, without warning, the earth vibrated beneath her feet as a deep, resonating sound emanated from the creature, startling a flock of birds from nearby trees.

She gasped. "Was that... are you mocking me?"

Something hard – probably a bone fragment – scraped past her submerged fingertips, and she fought down rising bile. "I don't suppose," she croaked after a short pause, "we could pretend this never happened and I'll just be on my way?"

The surface around her wrist began to undulate and bubble. She tensed, expecting pain, but instead her a bit numb now hand slipped free, trailing strings of viscous goo that stretched before releasing her from her bindings.

Instinct took over. She ran. Adrenaline burned through her veins as she tore through the forest. She leaped over boulders and fallen trees at a neck-breaking pace down a hill, branches whipping past her face. Finally, lungs burning, she collapsed beside a stream. She looked back, and froze– the giant slime stood still just a few feet behind her, as if it had effortlessly kept pace. A hysterical laugh again bubbled up from her throat, and to her shock, the slime produced a deeper, reverberating echo of the sound.

But thirst overwhelmed her fear. She slowly crawled to the stream's edge and drank deeply, knowing she would regret it later, keeping one eye fixed on the creature. When she slowly stood, it remained motionless. She took a careful step backward – still no movement. Another two steps. Then, in a blur of motion that made her breath catch, the creature surged forward, covering half the distance between them. The message was clear: it could outpace her any time it wished.

---

Thristle's legs trembled with exhaustion as she walked, hungry and bone-tired but still jumpy as a cat with that huge thing trailing behind her. Every few steps, she glanced back to confirm what she already knew – the slime maintained a steady distance, its bear skull face tilted at that same unnerving angle of curiosity. The morning sun cast its gelatinous body in an almost beautiful light, creating rainbow refractions that would have been mesmerizing if she wasn't so terrified.

"You know," she said, her voice hoarse, "most people would take the hint by now." The creature's only response was another of those deep, resonant sounds that she was beginning to suspect might be attempts at communication.

A rustling in the bushes ahead made her freeze. "Thristle?" a familiar voice called out. "Thristle, is that you?"

Thristle's heart leaped and plummeted in the same instant. "Rose! Stay back!" she screamed, but it was too late. Her friend emerged from behind a flowering elderberry bush with a basket half-full of herbs, her relieved expression quickly morphing into horror.

"By the gods," Rose whispered, her basket slipping from nerveless fingers. Dried herbs scattered across the forest floor as she stumbled backward. "Thristle, what—" Her eyes widened as she took in her friend's appearance – the dark shadows beneath bloodshot eyes, the torn and filthy clothes, dried blood crusted at her hairline, and that vacant, haunted look that spoke of witnessed terrors.

"Don't move," Thristle commanded, trying to keep her voice steady. "Just... just stay where you are." She could feel the slime shifting behind her, its massive form rippling with interest at the newcomer. "I'm fine. Well, not fine exactly, but not dead, which is something." She attempted to brush some of the slime residue from her arms, succeeding only in smearing it further into the remaining fabric of her sleeves.

Rose's eyes darted between Thristle and the monster, her face pale. "We've been searching for two days," she said, her voice trembling. We found your pack by the old oak, thought maybe you'd..." She swallowed hard. You look terrible."

"Thanks," Thristle managed a weak smile. "Rough time," She gestured vaguely at her slime companion, immediately regretting the joke when Rose's face went even whiter.

The massive creature suddenly surged forward, its gelatinous body flowing around obstacles like water. Rose screamed, but Thristle was already moving. She threw herself between her friend and the monster, arms spread wide.

"No!" she shouted, not sure if the creature could even understand her. "You stay away from her!" Her heart hammered against her ribs as the slime loomed over her, its bear skull floating closer to her face. Then, without warning, its body enveloped her in what might have been meant as an embrace but felt like being swallowed by a warm, living blanket.

Thristle struggled against the sensation of being pressed against its membrane again, fighting down panic as the familiar bubbles swirled against her skin.

"Thristle!" Rose's terrified voice seemed to come from very far away.

"I'm alright!" she managed to gasp as the slime released her, leaving her covered in viscous residue once again. "Just... just go. Please."

"I can't just leave you with that... that thing!" Rose's voice cracked. She took a halting step forward, then stopped as the slime rippled menacingly.

"Please," Thristle begged, still struggling to catch her breath after the creature's embrace. Sticky residue dripped from her hair, and she could still feel the echo of those internal currents against her skin. "It's – it's following me. Won't leave me alone. I don't want you getting hurt because of my stupidity."

Rose stood frozen, tears welling in her eyes. Finally, she slowly lowered her herb basket and pulled out her travel satchel. With trembling hands, she placed it on a nearby stump. "There's bread and some apples in there," she said, backing away slowly," she said, her voice thick. "And some tea" She swallowed hard. "Two days, Thristle. We thought... I thought..."

„I know," Thristle whispered. "I'm sorry-"

"The lord's mansion," Rose said suddenly, backing away one careful step at a time."He's got his guards that have seen some combat. Surely they can help." She brushed tears from her cheeks. "Just... just stay alive until then, you idiot. Promise me."

The slime chose that moment to release another of its bone-shaking sounds – that terrible mimicry of Thristle's laugh that sent birds scattering in panic. Rose finally broke, turning to flee through the underbrush, leaving Thristle alone again with her monstrous companion.

"Right then," she said, her carefully practiced city accent dissolving as panic set in, "I suppose we're goin' to see the lord Blackbriar. Though he's not particularly fond of me- of me person- oh blast it all!" The more she tried to sound refined, the thicker her accent became, until she gave up entirely and slumped against a tree. A bitter laugh escaped her throat. "I hope he will dispose of only one of us."

The slime drifted closer, its massive form looming over her. Thristle retrieved the satchel with trembling hands, memories of smaller slimes flashing through her mind - garden pests dissolving into nothing, a sheep's wool melting away like sugar in the rain. This creature could have consumed her ten times over, yet here she stood, covered in residue but somehow unharmed. "Maybe I'm just too scrawny for yer taste," she muttered, eyeing the bear skull floating in its mass.