The little blob's loyalty was split the instant the monster [sub]([@Strong Potato])[/sub] came surging forward, between someone who had been, in some part, easy to understand for it - a long-eared human woman [sub]([@Assallya]),[/sub] fled - and then the man without the mask [sub]([@Gentlemanvaultboy])[/sub] it had trailed for more or less the same reason. There could very well be a monster there; the slime recalls teeth. 

With the mask gone, he steps forward with hospitality. And the distended figure of the [i]thing[/i] was so close. 

"This is my friend," the man introduces. He is leaving himself very open. It has to assume this is a formality, and that she is just a meager, viscous pile-up in their eyes; if they were dismissive, inattentive, this action would be subtle: the flattening of her body into a semi-suffusive puddle, the cooling of her temperature as she concentrates, hard. And then it moves, discreet against the concrete, skittering off into the darkness with just that faint glow as indication, and a slight rippling motion: little nubs along the bottom, like the feet of a caterpillar, moving in unison. 

Like a liquid spill sliding along the floor. Then, waves tumbling over one after the other - an amorphous, billowing shape; it's picking up speed. And finally, a figure breaks the surface, and a little girl is skirting down the hallway as fast as she can, risking a glance behind her to ensure she has not been followed or recognized. 

A colossus [sub]([@Samdragonx])[/sub] bares lightning in her path, and she doesn't even notice him-