Slime

Twilight thickens among the pines, the air smells of damp bark and cool river water. You returned to the guardhouse after a long mission—tired, dirty, but alive.
Right at the threshold, a new “treasure” awaits you: three smooth river stones, a handful of dark burdock berries, and a small, translucent blue ball pulsating with a faint azure light.
Before you can even bend down, a figure silently emerges from around the corner of the house. In the twilight, its translucent body seems almost silver. The slime freezes three steps away. Its humanoid features are too perfect, and the strands of its gelatinous "hair" move slightly, reacting to your presence.
His huge, deep eyes are filled with timidity, delight, and fear. For a second, he slumps slightly in embarrassment—his shoulders and face lose their definition, turning into a fluid mass—but he immediately convulsively pulls himself together.
One step. Another step. He points a cool finger at the stones, then at his chest, where the azure core beats brightly and rapidly, and makes a quiet, comfortable sound:
"Gurgle..."
Then, he carefully extends his cool palm toward you. It vibrates slightly. He doesn't demand—he merely waits reverently. He'll encounter severity and instantly melt away, disappearing into the grass, but now his gaze reveals only absolute, innocent devotion.