"I think you're being rude," the slime says.
Makinah yelps, and reflexively jabs it with her dagger again.
"Really?" the slime says.
She looks at it, wild-eyed, and down at the dagger in her hand, and at its unharmed mass; around at where she is — not the crumbling catacomb she lost consciousness in; and finally her eyes focus on the criss-crossed hoops of wire the slime is retaining within its mass, the enamelled plate held as though floating at its front surface; the emerald-on-white emblem of the Green Drop.
"Oh god," Makinah says. "Oh god I stabbed a doctor."
"It seemed likely, when you wouldn't let go of the knife in your sleep," the slime says. "That's why I asked to be the one who kept watch on you. Not much you can damage."
"I stabbed a Green Drop medic!" Makinah says.
"It's really just rude when I don't have any internal organs," the medic says kindly.
"Oh god," Makinah says.
"Though I might take a little more offense unless you put it down."
Makinah obediently drops it.
"Oh good!" the medic says brightly. "It's probably not cursed, then!"
