So, just what
did
happen in the "elf brothel incident"?
Goblin's Note: The events of this story take place directly after the events of Shifty Characters, and some time before Sea Slimes, Unliving Lust and Evergreen Forest, respectively. That said, each story is meant to stand on its own and in whichever order the reader prefers, so feel free to read on even if you haven't read any of those yet!
Fair warning—this chapter is pretty scant on the sex, and a bit shorter than most as a result. Rest assured, future chapters will be both longer and hopefully a good deal more titillating! Future chapters will contain fey, elves, hypnotism, lesbian sex, teasing, reluctance, nonconsent, femdom, femsub, and possibly a catgirl—I can't confirm or deny anything at this juncture.
~~~~~~~~
"Where the fuck did my rabbit's foot go?"
Larya looked up, blinking eyelids still leaden from recent dreams. Snatch, her adventuring partner as of two days ago, was a ways off from the campfire, digging through his pack. She reached over and used her staff to prod the small campfire she'd built up, turning fresh coals toward fresh morning air. "Wait, that was yours?"
He looked up at her sharply. "What?"
She rubbed her eyes, groaning. "I...
may
have thrown it in the river a little bit."
"
What? Why
?"
"It was lying next to your pillow. That attracts predators, you know. Eagles and things. I bet."
"Do you
know
how much that damn thing's worth?"
"About a tenth of what a whole rabbit is?"
He glowered at her. Larya was beginning to realize that with Snatch, that was the closest he came to admitting a 'yes'. He turned and stalked off towards the river. "It better have snagged on something. Shit's important, druid."
Larya watched him go. She let out a sigh.
She'd thought, after he came around and helped her, Mier and Swish defeat his ex-partner Balabar, that the bounty hunter might become a little bit easier to deal with. But he was as unpleasant as ever. Snatch seemed to be perpetually irritable, resenting any social interaction he had to go through like it was excruciating torture. He was greedy, brooding, and exceedingly sensitive. At the start of the journey, Snatch had made a big deal about how this was going to be the last time they ever adventured together. She was beginning to concur.
She stood up and gave the camp a lookaround. She was getting better at building these. Her tent looked a lot better than his, that was for sure—his was mostly standing in spite of its own best efforts, a sagging, tangled mess that closer resembled a bird's nest than a human dwelling. She'd offered to help him pitch it, but he had refused. By contrast, she thought hers was quite neat.
Her eyes closed. She tapped the staff against the ground and breathed in, smelling the pine needles, the pitch, the nearby river. Oh, this was wonderful. No more dusty old towns. No more dank basements. No more perverted wizards peeking down her blouse at every opportunity.
Birds were tweeting above. She'd identified a few of them—a scrub jay, a meadowlark—but she knew she still had so much to learn. The sounds of winds brushing by branches and knocking twigs loose. Squirrels nibbling pinecones. Animals scuttling across the floor of rotting needles. In her heart, Larya felt something old, something enormous, pressing in on her on all sides. It picked her up like a doll and held her tightly, but not uncomfortably. It felt like being hit by a tidal wave and somehow managing to stand. It was exhilarating. It was overwhelming.
Her eyes opened.
It was like being in the center of a hurricane and pushing back. Like swallowing a river. She stared up at the greens, the browns, the golds of plant life, the blues and silvers of trickling glassy rivers, heard the cooing of a dove, felt the grass beneath her feet, tasted the campfire smoke entering her mouth.
She started to breathe heavily. It felt so good. So perfect, so raw, so
beyond
her. Nature itself was her master, or mistress, or
who cared
, and it was eager for her to do its bidding. Hungry for her to do its bidding. Her legs felt weak, but something else held her up. In the distance, an eagle squawked. Moss was growing rapidly over rotting slats, lichen from ancient timbers, vines covering shiny glass panes.
She felt the power entering her then. The grass all around her was growing taller. Roots were poking out of the earth. A squirrel looked towards her and took a few steps in her direction. This was hers. She was its. Oh, so much
life
. So much life, so much everything, and it felt
so good
, she was being borne away by the tidal wave, hurled into the air by the hurricane, so much...
so much...
She entered a coughing fit.
"Oh,"
*cough*
"fuck—"
*cough*
She fell back on her butt, out of the path of the smoke. Her deep blue eyes were watering.
Subconsciously, she rubbed her legs together. Her eyes weren't the only thing. "Oh, geez," she said to herself. "Did I just..."
She went bright red. She was very glad Snatch hadn't been around to see that.
~~~~
Snatch returned ten minutes later, bearing the rabbit's foot triumphantly. He'd had to fight a bastard eagle to get it, but the good news was, they were having meat in the pot tonight.
Larya was extremely red-faced when he got back. He didn't think it was that hot out, but she
was
sitting close to the fire.
"I got it," he said, holding up the paw. He threw the eagle carcass onto a large patch of tall grass he could've sworn hadn't been growing there before.
"Great!" She grinned widely. "That's great. Uh, hey, so have you checked the map lately?"
"N—why?"
"Uh, well, I just noticed something kind of weird." She turned and pointed a little ways off. Snatch stared in the direction she was pointing. Nothing but bushes and trees. "There's a ranger outpost up there."
"A ranger outpost?" Snatch repeated. He reached into his satchel and pulled out the map. He scowled at it. Maps had never been his forte. "How the fuck can you tell?"
"Um." Larya wasn't meeting his gaze. "I just
can
