Notes:
This is one of my earlier stories, and my style has changed since I wrote it years ago, but I still think it has some merit. Hope you enjoy it.
Also, while I try to keep revising my work to avoid annoying typos, I tend to miss many. If you spot any, please let me know down in the comments!
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When the people at the tavern told Ori not to take the forest path, the obvious question was, "why?"
The townsfolk had been rather imprecise about why, though. After asking for a bit, the most Ori had got was that it was "odd", fairy land, apparently, so you never really knew what you'd find. Not super dangerous from the sound of it, though some people did disappear in the forest.
Armed with this information, what could Ori do but actually take that path? A bard has to go where the stories are, and this sounded like that kind of place!
So the next day Ori found themselves walking down a meandering and unkept forest path, and while nothing fantastical had happened, it didn't disappoint.
The forest had this dreamlike and mystical aura, as if a colourful fog had enveloped it. The trees, flowers and bushes were almost radiant with life, with colours that Ori had never seen in a place like this.
It was around late noon, as the sun lazily shone small beams of light through the thick canopy, that Ori first heard the music.
Pipes, they thought, some old basic ones, definitely made of wood, and whoever was playing them was good.
The tune had a soft and mesmerizing touch to it, as if the notes hung in the air and floated around you gently.
Without even thinking about it, Ori found themselves following the music, wanting to meet the person creating such sweet music.
As they got closer, the sound became clearer, and Ori felt as if the notes were sliding down their ears into their head. They felt a gentle caress on the back of their neck, and their whole body tingled.
As if possessed, they continued pushing forward, Ori's mind focused exclusively on the music.
Finally, Ori came upon a clearing, where they found their mysterious musician.
He was sitting on an old tree stump, concentrating fully on the pan pipes against his mouth, his eyes closed.
Waist up, he looked like a well-built man, with wide shoulders, muscular arms and a scruffy, but attractive appearance. His face was angular and sharp, but he looked kind. His hair was of a reddish chestnut, and it flowed majestically down his back.
The rest of him was most definitely not human, he sported a pair of curved horns, like a ram, and waist down his body was covered in short reddish fur, with a pair of black hooves instead of feet.
Suddenly, he opened one of his eyes, looking straight at Ori.
Their heart skipped a beat, but Ori stood there, entranced by the music, listening carefully while looking at the satyr.
The piper stood up, without his song skipping a single note, and slowly he moved towards Ori, circling around them as if taking a long look.
He wore nothing but his fur, and Ori could see his rather large manhood gently swinging between his legs, which made Ori feel both uncomfortable and longing for some reason.
