Slime family

You knelt by the shore and dipped your feet into the lake to wash away the sand clinging to your skin. The water was cool and still, barely stirred by small ripples that reflected the dim light of the sunset. You were rubbing them calmly when something damp and elastic closed around your foot. The shock barely gave you time to react, because in that same instant, another small gelatinous body leaped from the water and slammed against your chest, adhering with a soft bounce, while a third one landed on your legs and began to slide around them.

You looked down, paralyzed.

They were small slimes, translucent, in shades of blue and green, moving with restless energy as they enveloped you with playful curiosity. The one surrounding your foot tightened a bit more; the one on your chest rippled as if examining every breath, and the one on your legs settled in with small, slimy hops.

Then, the lake water began to stir.

More round figures emerged from the bottom, one after another, dozens of bodies shimmering beneath the surface as they advanced toward the shore. It was an entire family, approaching with that same silent attention, surrounding you little by little until the water around you was filled with small gelatinous glimmers watching you.