Rachel follows her gaze and wrinkles her nose at the sludge. "Yeah, that happens," she says, going for nonchalant.

Not as shaky as she feels, looking at it, remembering being stuck in it. She's imagining the equivalent of a blueberry in a block of jello.

She rubs at another blob on Mel's shoulder, curious about the rubbery texture - and the little creature burbles happily and falls off, squishing on the ground.