Goblin and Human
Lyria found herself in the human world. She used an ancient artifact called the Mirror of Passage from her forest named Valera to go to Earth in search of love. Sex would be pleasurable but love would be preferable.
Like most of the goblins in her forest, she was barely twice taller than a tree stump but she had a smile like one wouldn't believe that attracted others like honey would a bee, which she often hoped blinded everyone from a healing scar across her left cheek, a pointy nose, and a few spots across her face. She may have believed she would be the third or fourth prettiest girl in any group but a fair number of either sex would love to make her theirs.
Her breasts were about the size of the average goblin's palm but her butt pushed her dress out at the rear enough to snare the looks of nearly anyone that caught a glance.
Whenever she received attention, it was flattering. Most goblins tended to be rough on the eyes but she was a stark exception. She fought hard to show she had more to offer than her pretty face or skills in the sheets.
Speaking of such skills, they were well-refined due to her kind's unusually high sex drives when compared to other creatures. It was fine for a while but it didn't seem many of her numbers were interested in going deeper with their relationships. That was what Lyria craved and needed yet it was unavailable. Maybe she could find it in another world?
When she arrived on our planet, she was in more woods similar to her forest though the grass was yellowed and coated with frost that crunched with each step she took. The bushes and shrubs were only branches and stems much like the trees. There was no canopy and the pale grayish white ceiling blanketed the area.
The gusts were Arctic-like and shivered her to the bones. She folded her arms to shield herself from winter's blasts but with each move, she shook so hard it'd take her hours to get to where she was going—wherever that was. Her dress was not providing much help.
She decided to run and soon, she was out of the sticks. As she was running, she skidded and braked atop a hill overlooking a city. There were those buildings she read about jutting through the clouds and the blaring of horns and roaring engines of the machines on wheels that could take a person anywhere they wanted.
Lyria shuddered and fell away from the noise. She turned and scampered back to what was most familiar.
She had to find shelter before she turned to ice. She found an alcove in a hill she crawled into. It served its purpose like an igloo and her body temp rose and her shivers faded.
She ate berries and pine nuts from her knapsack and napped on the earthy floor for a few days.
Lyria, curled into a ball, and blanketed in her spare clothes, was wondering if she made the right choice. In a strange land with not a friend and no way to return home, she was freezing and alone. The thought of the touch of a man, his caring, his kiss, lit her inside and sparked enough warmth to keep her alive. She kept her knight in mind as he
had
to be in this world. He had to be there to conjure love within her, to take her as his own like she always wanted.
That, and her empty knapsack and thirst, dragged her from that hole. She tied an extra dress around her legs for elemental protection.
She wandered out of the woods and across a creek bed with nothing but dirt and rocks lining the bottom. On the other side, she was on an expanse of property with pale green grass lying dormant waiting for the spring. She was in a backyard at the rear of a white house, probably from the early 1800's. Lyria found something familiar there—stones stacked in a circle with a hole in the middle.
She fell onto the edge of the well. The water was beginning to freeze as a thin layer of ice formed on top. She lowered the bucket and after its dip, she brought it back up as fast as she could work her arms. As soon as its rim came into view, she snatched it as the frosty water splashed on her arm.
Despite the sting of the frosty liquid, she was so ecstatic that she turned up that bucket like a drunk would a bottle in a paper sack. She poured as much as she could in her mouth though most of it streamed down her body and drenched her clothes.
When the air swirled around her, she screamed and shivered but that water was so good.
Nearby was a wagon made of pine planks with a broken wheel covered in folded burlap. Inside were some beets, carrots, and frost-kissed cabbage. She hopped up and down and took a bite out of a carrot while scooping as many of the other veggies as she could into her sack.
Her ears captured some commotion. She stopped and whipped her head around towards some people who weren't too happy she was drinking their water and swiping their veggies.
She gathered into her body what wouldn't fit in the sack and sprinted back into the woods.
She kept watch over her shoulder and not only lost some of her loot but her sense of direction as well. She panted as she searched frantically for a way to go. Left and right she looked but all looked the same—dormant plants and bare trees. She could hear what sounded to be a deep voice, maybe a father and his wife, and a preteen.
Lyria kept working her feet towards the sound of someone chopping wood.
It was a man bringing down an axe with arms chiseled by life itself. His right arm was marked with the head of a wolf with canines watering. The man's hair was short and black, with a mustache across the length of his lip.
Lyria ceased all thoughts and actions and tossed all of her attention on him. He looked like he could wrestle a wild boar into submission and was the most handsome creature she'd laid her lavender eyes on. Arousal seized her with ripples flowing from between her legs. She imagined him taking her and loving her as he saw fit causing her to experience a world of pleasure that had only ever existed in her fantasies.
Reality snapped her back into the woods where a raging family could have still been at her heels and frost was consuming her bones.
The man tossed the split timber into a flatbed hooked to the rear of a motor cart. When he turned around, his attention was drawn to Lyria who was running toward him!
"Hey! Can you help me, sir?" Lyria asked as she stopped outside of his space behind his chopping stump.
He appeared a bit cautious yet in shock with the way he held that axe's blade toward her.
"What the...why are you dressed like that?" he asked.
Lyria, in her hysteria, had little awareness that women with fluffy, plum-colored hair, grass green skin, and ears pointed like an elf may not have been the norm on Earth. He could have also been stunned at the strapless top that matched her tresses and black knee-length dress. Maybe it was what filled them that snared his focus.
"Um, what do you mean?" she asked while still hoping her dilemma would come to a swift resolution.
A light seemed to come on within the man. "Oh, I get it. Did you come from the comic convention downtown?"
The goblin girl hadn't an inkling what he was speaking of but if it would put him at ease and lower that axe, she was going to go with it.
"Yeah, yeah, sure."
He looked around her. "That explains your purple and green costume but why are you out here? Is someone after you?"
What will he think when he finds out I was born with this costume?
It was a passing notion but it quickly became a faded one given the lack of time to dwell on it.
His voice was deep and a bit fear-inducing the way he was so forceful with his interrogation. He was the only face she'd seen that wasn't out to get her so she stayed.
"I didn't do anything wrong! I was just thirsty and hungry! Please!" Lyria pleaded.
"You stole something? Is that what you're telling me?" he said hinting at his displeasure with the act.
"I'm new here! I didn't know!"
The man spun, threw his axe into his flatbed, and jumped into the cart attached. She ran up to it but he started pulling off!
