Tabula Rasa: Adventures In A New World

“Thnmnghhhmh~...!” Beryl’s happy and hummed voice vibrates through the barbarian’s body. Those slurred sounds that might be words are utterly unintelligible. “Hghhmmnooh~...!”

Krvavy’s fingers glide through that tomboy’s sooty hair... just to get a good grip on those short brunette strands so that she can slowly but steadily – and rather gently – drag the Elf back.

“Mhhhnh~...?” The Wood Elf woman loosens her clingy hug without further prompting. A blissful and rather dopey smile fills her face as she gazes up into the barbarian’s eyes with nothing but adoration and love in her own blue-green pair. “Yheaah~...?”

“The fire isn’t going to spread, is it?” Krvavy idly asks, doing her best to act like nothing awkward just happened, even as dexterous hands gently glide up and down her sides. She lets go of the Elf’s head, a fair bit later than she should have. “Any more than it already has, at least.”

“Nnnnno...” Beryl drags out her response just a little, buying herself time to regain at least some of her composure as she slowly takes in their surroundings. “No.” She repeats, sounding far more confident. “It rained just the other day, and the magics tha’ blight made use o’ weren’t strong enough fer tha’ ta not matter.”

“Good...” Krvavy sighs in relief. She would rather not have a massive forest fire so close to her home. The smoke may not smell all that bad, but it isn’t exactly pleasant to breathe in... Her eyes drop down to the log-like quiver hanging off of her Elf’s hip. “Is there any point in gathering up your arrows before we head to my place?”

The tomboy tilts her head in thought. “Most o’ them would’a been burnt ta ash, but Ah should be able ta salvage some ah’row’eads at least. So aye. Do ya want me ta do tha’?” An expectant smile fills Beryl’s face as she pulls back even further, settling down on her haunches and essentially squatting in front of the Drakling.

Her long legs and undoubtedly toned thighs look amazing in those tight pants... But Krvavy can’t help but imagine how they’d look without that form-fitting leather in the way...

“Sure.”

Beryl’s blue-green eyes twinkle as the barbarian glances back up to meet her gaze. “If ya care about tha’, then would ya mind if we stopped by my camp before ‘eadin’ ta yer ‘ome? I ‘ave some stuff tha’ll be useful ta ya. Includin’ a spare bow fer me ta use on yer behalf. Unless ya want it fer yerself?”

Krvavy honestly forgot that the Elf’s bow was completely destroyed earlier, so gathering any arrows – regardless of how intact they are – wouldn’t have been the most useful thing to do. “Oh, sure, yeah. Where is your camp? Never mind... Get your arrows first. I’ll...” she reluctantly glances towards the partially buried corpse directly beside her. “I’ll see if I can find the key to that collar while you’re doing that.”

“Aye!” Beryl nods and all but jumps up onto her feet. Those long legs of hers buckle a bit, nearly causing her to crumple back down to the ground if not for her hands darting out and grabbing onto Krvavy’s upper horns, just barely stabilizing herself in time. “Ach, sorry...” A rosy hue colours her caramel cheeks. “Ah’m just... just feelin’ a bit... wobbly.”

“That’s alright.” Krvavy softly reassures the embarrassed Elf, reaching out and resting her hands on that tomboy’s hips. Purely to help her stay standing.

Beryl quivers at that contact. Her blush grows a bit brighter as the rise and fall of her wooden breastplate becomes far more noticeable.

This tanned Elf may be quite slim and svelte, but her hips... well, they’re not exactly wide but neither are they narrow. They are just about as broad as her shoulders. Perhaps a little less so? Yet... Her thin waist makes those hips look so... beautiful.

The Drakling’s fingers absentmindedly trace small circles on her Elf’s tight leather pants, unbothered the bits of bark and wood that stand in her way. It is so very tempting to let her touch travel just a little further... To verify what her eyes caught a glimpse of earlier...

“Ah~... think Ah’m~... good now~...” Beryl heavily pants out, gazing down at the barbarian with half-lidded eyes. For just the briefest moment, she almost looks disappointed in herself for having said anything. “Ah’ll... Ah’ll be quick...!”

Krvavy blinks as her Elf steps away, easily slipping free from her loose grip. The barbarian’s loincloth twitches slightly as she watches Beryl shakily scurry off.

With some reluctance, Krvavy turns her attention towards the corpse that has been right beside her this entire time. Her axe remains lodged in its face, though the weight of that crude weapon has caused its head to twist to the side at an unnatural angle.

Her lip curls in disgust as she grabs at the long leather coat that is now mostly beneath that body. It has a lot of pockets. Of which very few are empty. And of which even fewer have anything of value.

Or at least anything Krvavy would want to take.

She finds a few pouches of suspicious powder that probably do cost a fair bit. But Krvavy doesn’t trust that stuff in the slightest. It could be magical reagents meant to make spells or rituals more effective. Or it could just be drugs. Inspect isn’t telling her.

The various little knives hidden away in this coat are a similar story. Some look cool and interesting, but they also tend to have an odd sheen to them or have been coated in an unpleasantly crusty goop. Krvavy may not always do the smartest thing at any given time, but even she knows better than to mess with obviously poisoned blades.

Frankly, most of what this sketchy man had on him is junk. Dirty utensils, empty vials, completely useless trinkets... It might have been tempting to take some of that stuff – the trinkets, mainly – if only they didn’t feel so... unclean. Krvavy almost didn’t grab the various small bags of coins and scattered lock picks for that very same reason. Hopefully a thorough rinse in some magically cleansing water will help those feel... less filthy.

“Mnnh...” The barbarian’s brow furrows. It is hard to tell, but Krvavy is pretty sure that she has looked through every pocket at this point. But she still hasn’t found the key. Any key, really. Or anything even slightly resembling a key.

Which is annoying, but not entirely unexpected.

It was honestly kind of optimistic to assume that this extremely sketchy fire mage would keep that rather important thing in a place where it could be so easily found...

With a sigh, Krvavy begins searching through that less than clean jacket with far more care, fingers pressing into fabric lining and trailing along seams. Luck seems to be on her side, thankfully, because it takes her less than a minute to find what she was looking for.

Inside one of the empty pockets is an almost imperceptible lump. Flat and stiff. If there was just a little more padding around it, then Krvavy wouldn’t have noticed that at all. She pokes around the pocket, looking for a hidden flap or some other way to get at what she found. But... there is nothing of the sort. Which leaves her with only one option.

Riiiip...!

A key tumbles down from its hiding spot. Much like the collar, it is rather unremarkable. Simple and fairly plain. Nothing more than a metal stick with two rectangular teeth at one end and a circular hoop to hold onto at the other. A basic geometric pattern adorns those teeth. Not dissimilar to what is on that collar.

Krvavy’s fingers close around that unnerving object.

The barbarian’s other hand reaches out, grabbing onto the bone-handled axe still lodged into the corpse in front of her. She pauses for just a moment, before shrugging dismissively. No point in wasting this opportunity.

Sticky and viscous blood oozes from what was once this mage’s face, creeping over the crude iron head of Krvavy’s axe and seeping into that weapon’s femur haft. Her mana ticks up bit by bit. But not by a whole lot. This isn’t good blood. It isn’t as fresh as it could be. Not to mention how unclean it probably is...

“Tsk.”

It doesn’t take very long for the corpse to dry up, shrivelling into nothing more than a desiccated husk. Which isn’t much of a change from its previous scraggly appearance. Though, to be fair, that is mostly because all but its head is covered up, and that isn’t exactly intact...

“There...!” Beryl’s voice cuts through the thinning smoke, growing louder as she hurries back over. “Ah think tha’ is all o’ them. Most weren’t much more than slag...” The tomboyish Elf drops an arrowhead into her quiver. It clinks against the others in there. “Did... did ya find it?”

“Yeah.” Krvavy responds, opening her hand as she glances up at her Elf. The metal key rests in her palm, cold despite how tightly she was holding onto it.

A flash of disappointment crosses Beryl’s face. “Oh. Ya don’t want ta take this collar off o’ me right away, do ya...?” Worry tinges her tone.

The barbarian raises a single eyebrow. “Do you want to keep wearing it?”

“Ach, no!” The tanned Elf violently shakes her head. “It is a cursed thing, a blight upon the world...! But... as long as it is on me, then... it won’t end up around yer neck. So if ya don’t mind... Ah’d like ta keep it on. At least fer now.”

Krvavy bites the inside of her cheek. A part of her wants to remove that collar right away. She doesn’t like looking at it. Especially not when it is around this Elf’s neck. But... Beryl has a point. This game already messes with her mind more than she’d like, and Krvavy does not trust the developers to not take that even further. They absolutely would have added some ‘bad ends’ into the game. And she doesn’t want to even risk triggering one.

So, selfish as it may be, she will let that thing stay around Beryl’s neck. For now. Once she gets the chance, Krvavy is going to... to bury that collar in solid stone. Inside the respawn point cave that only she can enter. It will be sealed away, out of reach and unused for the rest of this playthrough...

After a rather long pause, the Drakling takes a deep breath and almost reluctantly gives her answer. “Alright.”

Relief visibly washes over the tomboyish Elf.

Krvavy carefully slips the key into the pouch attached to her loincloth, taking a moment to make sure it is secure in there. Her eyes lift up, lingering on the unassuming collar around her Elf’s neck. “But that thing is coming off when we get home. Got it?”

“Aye.” Beryl’s long and pointed ears twitch with worry.

With that, Krvavy finally rises back onto her feet, fingers tightening around the haft of her axe as she hefts it up with her. The desiccated corpse is also lifted a little, before dropping back down with a thmp as that crude weapon is pulled free from its skull. “Right –”

“My!” The Wood Elf woman can’t help but blurt out. “Ya’re tall up close~!” Her bright blue-green eyes stare up at the towering barbarian with giddy awe. The top of her head doesn’t quite reach Krvavy’s shoulders, leaving her face right at tit height. Much to her apparent delight.

“Yeah, I... uh... guess I am?” Krvavy doesn’t really know how to respond to that. “You’re... not that short yourself...?” It looks like this Elf would have about half a head on Thea. So, by Human standards, Beryl is on the taller side. She just doesn’t seem like it when compared to a Drakling.

“Aye, Ah’m not~! Which makes yer size all the more impressive~!”

That compliment causes a bit of colour to fill Krvavy’s cheeks. “Come on, lets...” her mind lags slightly as she tries to find a good distraction. “Lets... go grab my deer. Hopefully it is still where I left it...” She will genuinely be pissed if some animal came along and stole her hard work. Or if it ended up burning in all these flames...

A wide smile fills Beryl’s face as she follows closely after the barbarian. Like a puppy, eager and happy.

Silence hangs in the forest. Most of the crackling flames have died out by now, reduced to nothing but glowing coals. Beams of sunlight shine through the scorched canopy and the wispy smoke. Bright and golden.

The deer carcass is exactly where Krvavy left it. Some of the plants around it look a little dry, and maybe even crispy, but the fire hasn’t touched it. Thankfully.

“Ooh~!” Beryl’s nimble fingers latch onto Krvavy’s wrist. “Ya did a great job catchin’ this buck!” She excitedly praises. “Ya must ‘ave really tired ‘im down wit’ all o’ tha’ chasin’ ya did, aye~?”

To be completely honest... Krvavy is a little unnerved by her Elf’s bright and cheery attitude. That... affection... doesn’t feel fake or forced. Quite the opposite, actually. It feels genuine and real. But even ignoring that... it is simply too intense. “Uhm.” She bites the inside of her cheek, glancing towards the tomboy. Who smiles warmly at her. “Were you... watching me earlier?”

“Oh!” The tanned Elf’s blue-green eyes go wide. “No, no! Nothin’ like tha’!” She hastily replies, letting go of Krvavy’s arm and holding both her hands up, looking quite worried about having potentially upset her new owner. “Ah just...” Her voice is a little more hesitant now. Almost sheepish. “Ah just ‘appened ta see ya. A couple o’ times. But it was clear tha’ ya were on a ‘unt, so... Ah left ya ta it.”

The barbarian’s brow furrows faintly. She never noticed anyone else out here. Not until fireballs started exploding. Though... that isn’t much of a surprise considering the level and stat difference between her and this Elf...

“Thanks.” Beryl’s soft voice snaps the barbarian from her thoughts. “Fer savin’ me back there. Truly. Ah could see no worse fate than ta be bound ta tha’... ta tha’ man.”

Krvavy’s lips press together into a thin line. Her crude axe digs into the trunk of a fallen tree. “I’m not sure if I really saved you.” She plainly states, crouching down and grabbing the hollowed out deer carcass, giving it a light shake before slinging it over her shoulder. A fair bit of ash and soot had settled on its hide.

“Nonsense!” Beryl grabs at Krvavy’s arm once again, fingers digging into the Drakling’s black scales. “If ya ‘adn’t ‘ave intervened, then Ah...!” The tomboyish Elf shudders. Her voice hardens. “Ah’ve seen the things tha’ ‘e did ta those who couldn’t fight back. Ah’ve seen wha’ ‘e, or whoever it was tha’ ‘e worked fer, would do ta those who fell under sway o’ this collar.” She taps the heavy metal band around her neck, lips curling upwards into a gentle smile despite its presence. “Ya saved me from a fate worse than death. Ah can’t put it inta words just ‘ow grateful Ah am fer tha’.”

The barbarian’s brow knits together. “And how do you know that I’ll be any better? What if I do something to you that is just as horrible as what he would have done? Or even worse?”

“Ach, ya wouldn’t do anythin’ like tha’.” The tomboyish Elf makes a rather bold assumption as she dismissively brushes off that concern. Her tight grip loosens but doesn’t retreat, instead shifting into an affectionate massage, rubbing and kneading where her fingers were just clamped down.

“But what if I do?”

Beryl doesn’t need very long to think of an answer. Hardly even a second. “Ach, well, in tha’ case... Ah guess it’s alright.”

Krvavy stares down at the Elf. “You guess that it is alright?”

“Aye.” The tanned tomboy nonchalantly nods her head. “If ya want ta do those ‘orribly unspeakable things ta me, then Ah’d be ‘appy ta let ya.”

“Why?” Krvavy already knows actual the answer to that question, but she wants to hear what excuse this literal slave will give her.

“Because it’s ya.” The Wood Elf woman quite plainly states, continuing her massage without interruption. “Ya’re not the same as tha’ dreadful man. So if ya want ta do somethin’ then it can’t be bad. It can’t be wrong. Not when ya are the one doin’ it. Because ya’d ‘ave a good reason fer it, even if others wouldn’t understand. Even if Ah wouldn’t understand.”

Yeah... that is just about what the barbarian was expecting to hear. “And if I didn’t have a good reason?” She continues to prod the reprogrammed Elf. “What if I... did something like that on a whim? Or if I just... if I just wanted to see you suffer?”

“Do ya want ta see me suffer?” Beryl genuinely asks, though she doesn’t wait for an answer before quickly continuing on. “Because tha’ is all tha’ matters. If ya want somethin’, ya should get it. And anyone or anythin’ should be ‘onoured ta ‘elp ya get wha’ ya want.”

Even though her Elf’s response was far from a surprise, Krvavy’s stomach still tightens a little. That lewd slave collar has really done a number on this poor woman’s mind... “I don’t. Want to see you suffer, I mean.”

“See, Ah knew ya were different~!” Beryl brightly beams, quivering with joy as she pulls her whole body up against the barbarian’s arm in a tight cuddling hug. One that isn’t the most comfortable with her bark breastplate in the way... “Ya are wonderful~! Ah-maze-in’~! Flawless even~! Truly perfect~!” A dreamy smile fills the tanned tomboy’s face as she rests her head against the barbarian’s bicep, reaching a hand out to Krvavy’s muscled midsection in that same motion. “So perfect~...” Her nimble fingers gently trail across those well-defined abs, feeling them go tense beneath her touch.

Krvavy is suddenly made very aware of her near-naked state, growing quite self-conscious of the fact that she has nothing but a crude pelt loincloth covering her body. She carefully shakes the clingy Elf off her arm and grabs at her axe, tearing it free from the trunk she lodged it in. That weapon comes to rest over one shoulder, while the deer carcass occupies the other.

The tomboyish Elf smiles serenely, staring up at her owner with adoring eyes.

A wave of frustration washes over Krvavy. “So... you really don’t mind what that collar has done to you?” She bites the inside of her cheek rather roughly. Honestly, what is even the point in asking that...? The answer is obvious.

“Ach~! O’ course not~!” The tanned tomboy warmly laughs. “This is the absolute best thing ta ‘ave ever ‘appened ta me~!” She confidently declares, smiling in a way that almost makes it feel like she is telling a child something that should be painfully obvious. “Now come on,” she suddenly grabs onto the crook of Krvavy’s arm, “let’s go find my camp so tha’ ya can bring me ta my new ‘ome already~!”

The Drakling lets herself get dragged to the side, led through the forest by this... love-struck Elf.

If it wasn’t for Beryl’s guidance, then Krvavy would have walked right past the tomboyish Elf’s camp. Even standing amidst it Krvavy can hardly tell that she is in a campsite. Though to be fair, that is because most of it is up in a large tree. The Elf clearly used her Shape Wood spell to, well, shape the wood into something she can sleep on.

The barbarian leans onto her crude, bone-handled axe.

She closes her eyes and takes a long, deep breath. The scent of smoke still clings to her, faint but present.

Thmp...

The Elf deftly lands on the ground in front of Krvavy, hardly making a sound despite the distance she just dropped down from. Her quiver has been topped back up and a new bow is held in her left hand. But other than that... all she has is a modest bag with a bedroll securely strapped onto it. “Apologies fer makin’ ya wait.”

“Eh, I’m not in a rush, so no worries.” Krvavy shrugs, finding her gaze drawn to the metal band around Beryl’s neck. “I’d like to know more about that collar.”

“Aye? This blighted thing? Ah don’t know much, but ask away.” Beryl replies, gesturing for Krvavy to take the lead as they begin to walk through the woods once more.

“Well...” the barbarian lightly bites the inside of her cheek. “Tell me what you know about that collar.” That’s a bit of a lazy way to go about this, but it saves her from asking useless questions. Or from forgetting to ask important ones.

“Hmm...” Beryl takes a moment to think. “It... It is a relic o’ an empire tha’ has long since returned ta the soil. This accursed thing isn’t one o’ a kind, though there can’t be many like it left in the world either. But... tha’ doesn’t matter as much as Ah’d like. Because this blighted collar can be used time and time again. It alone ‘as ruined countless lives...” Hesitantly reaching a hand up, the tomboyish Elf just barely touches the tips of her fingers against the cold metal resting around her neck. “There is so much power bound within this collar... Ah fear tha’ it may never run dry...”

Not to downplay what Beryl had just said, but... All of that sounds pretty standard for this sort of thing. A dark and evil item made with ancient magics... Kind of unoriginal.

Krvavy frowns.

This had better not be a plot device or some sort of key item. It probably isn’t. On account of this game not exactly having a story. But Krvavy can’t quite be certain...

The Wood Elf woman softly exhales, completely oblivious to the Drakling’s distracted thoughts. “The sheer amount o’ power within these abominable collars makes them difficult ta destroy. And if they do get destroyed...” She pauses just long enough to lightly shake her head. “The few stories Ah ‘eard all ended the same way, wit’ the magics contained within these blighted things bursting free in a violent eruption, makin’ wha’ would become a new lake. The smallest o’ which was said ta be over a league and a ‘alf across.”

Birds chirp in the distance, those cheery warbling sounds underlined by the buzzing of insects and the rustling of leaves in a gentle breeze. Twigs snap and crack beneath the barbarian’s bestial feet, drowning out the quiet footsteps of the Elf by her side. A portion of these woods may have been reduced to ash and dust, but the forest as a whole still survives.

“Ah don’t know ‘ow truthful those stories are,” Beryl admits after a moments pause, gazing up at the Drakling with pleading eyes, “but please don’t try ta destroy tha’ accursed thing. Even if this collar deserves ta be shattered, it is not worth the risk.”

Krvavy... kind of assumed that it simply couldn’t be destroyed, that it was some indestructible video game object. Maybe it would be worth finding somewhere very, very far away from anything and anyone else where she could ‘sacrifice’ her life to destroy the thing...? Not that Krvavy would lose much, considering that she can respawn...

“Please...”

“Okay.” The barbarian quickly gives in to her Elf’s desperate begging. Her gut instinct was to lock the thing away in the first place, and that is still an option. “Why were you researching these collars?” She can’t help but ask.

“Ahhh... Tha’...” The tanned tomboy of an Elf trails off. She takes a very deep breath, steeling her nerves before... simply speaking. “Years ago the one closest ta me was taken away, tricked by slavers pretending ta be mere merchants. Ah wasn’t there ta protect ‘er. And in penance o’ tha’, o’ my failure, Ah threw away the life Ah ‘ad ta go find ‘er. Ta bring ‘er ‘ome.”

Those few words cause Krvavy’s heart to sink. Of course this Elf has a personal connection to the slave collar... A predictably terrible one at that... And it is only going to get worse from here, isn’t it...? What a cheap shot from the developers, considering that they forced this on her...

“Ah ‘unted those slavers down as best Ah could. But my best wasn’t enough. By the time Ah got ta them... she was already long out o’ my reach.” Emotion fades from Beryl’s voice, leaving it hollow and empty in an all too familiar way. “Ah spent years lookin’ fer ‘er, followin’ any trail tha’ Ah thought might lead me ta ‘er. Most led nowhere. But after a few decades my efforts paid off.”

Krvavy wants to tell Beryl that she doesn’t need to continue. That she doesn’t need to drag those memories back into the light. But... Krvavy can’t quite bring herself to interrupt the Elf.

The Wood Elf woman grimaces, growing tense as she tightly grips her spare bow. Her unfocused gaze lowers down to the forest floor. “Ah found ‘er in the slums o’ a filthy Human city. She... she was a shell o’ ‘er former self. She was once the most beautiful maiden ta grace this world, but... but ‘ad become gaunt and disease ridden... forced ta bed vagrants fer paltry amounts o’ coin... All because ‘er ‘love’ asked ‘er to make money fer ‘im... and only let ‘er do it in tha’ one way...”

The barbarian bristles, lips pressing together into a thin line. Anger and hatred burns with the empathetic pain tugging at her heart. Giving Beryl such a horrible past is bad enough, but then ensuring that she would be enslaved as well... Those damned developers...!

“Ah tried ta help ‘er. Ah tried ta save ‘er.” Beryl’s voice wavers and cracks. “But she wouldn’t ‘ave any of it. She ‘adn’t worn tha’ collar fer decades, yet its influence never faded. Ah couldn’t let ‘er sufferin’ continue, so Ah... Ah... killed ‘er.” The tanned tomboy’s shoulders slump as she quietly makes that confession. “There were others like ‘er too. Victims ta this collar. Ah put them all out o’ their misery. Ah gave them peace and returned them ta nature. But Ah didn’t get the chance ta do the same ta the bastard tha’ desecrated them. Ah ‘ad ta flee. Ah came all the way out ‘ere, far from it all. Only fer my past ta follow me still...”

Krvavy opens her mouth to say something, anything, but not a single word comes out. Even if all of that was nothing more than lines of code and text being read aloud... she can’t just brush it aside. This feels real, even if it isn’t.

The Wood Elf abruptly and without warning steps in front of Krvavy, bringing their hike to a sudden stop. “Ah should be honestly wit’ ya.” Beryl quietly breathes out, gazing up at the barbarian with watery eyes. “The one Ah’m talkin’ about... She and Ah were once lovers. A part o’ me died the day Ah lost ‘er. Ah loved ‘er more than anythin’. And Ah never thought Ah’d love again. Until ya came inta my life. Until ya saved me from the fate she suffered.” A fragile and vulnerable smile plays at this Elvish woman’s lips. “Thank ya. Ah... Thank ya.”

The corner of Krvavy’s eye twitches as she struggles to keep her expression steady. Her face wants to frown, to scowl or glare. A mix of unpleasant emotions swirls through her mind. She almost feels... dizzy. It – “Oh.” A sudden realization pierces through that sour haze. The tinge of guilt inside of her grows bigger as she turns her gaze to the side.

Despite the fact that they’ve been talking and walking for quite some time already... Despite all of her questions and those bad memories she forced this Elf to recall... She hasn’t so much as said her own name yet. She never introduced herself.

“I...” Colour fills her cheeks, drawn out by the sheer amount of awkwardness in the air. “I’m Krvavy.”

“Hmm...? Kreh...vah...vee...” Beryl slowly repeats the barbarian’s name, tasting how it sounds on her tongue. Her smile grows warmer and brighter as she blinks away her tears. “My, wha’ a beautiful and strong name~...” The tanned tomboy brushes aside her sorrow and... begins to shamelessly flirt. A teasing glimmer fills her blue-green eyes, long Elf ears wiggling with joy. “Fittin’ fer one as mighty and magnificent as yerself~...!” Her palm presses into Krvavy’s muscled midsection, caressing those well-defined abs.

Only to flinch and pull away when she sees the barbarian looking down at her oddly.

“Ah...! Ah’m sorry, apologies!” The Wood Elf takes a step back. Her ears go still, slowly drooping down. “Ah’m sorry... Ah shouldn’t keep touchin’ ya without askin’ first... Ah just assumed tha’... tha’ wit’ ‘ow ya ‘ave been looking at me...” She sadly shakes her head. “It won’t happ–”

“No, no.” Krvavy snaps back to her senses. “That’s... alright.” She awkwardly reassures, still feeling rather dazed from the constant emotional whiplashes. “I, uh, do find you attractive, at least from what I can see.” She says without thinking... and immediately winces because of that.

“Well...” Beryl bites her bottom lip. “In tha’ case...” A rosy hue colours her caramel cheeks, growing along with her confidence. “Would ya... would ya like ta see more~?” Love and need fill those beautiful blue-green eyes as they gaze up at the large barbarian.

Krvavy is, once again, caught off guard.

Her jumbled mind races, struggling to resist the urge to simply say ‘yes’. This body of hers doesn’t have the best self control. Even without the literal flirting, this Elf’s accent is... doing things for Krvavy. It is riling her up... In a good way. And that is saying nothing of how alluring this Elf is, physically speaking, even when covered in soot and dirt...

But... Beryl’s attraction towards her is purely due to that mind altering collar. She doesn’t actually love Krvavy. Her warmth and affection isn’t real. Though... neither is anything else here... Still... in context... Krvavy would just be taking advantage of her...

The tomboyish Elf’s expression wavers as the silence drags on. She shifts her weight from one foot to the other, looking increasingly nervous.

“Sorry, you just... caught me off guard.” Krvavy slowly shakes her head. “Save... uh... all of this for... for when we get home, alright?” She frowns a little, feeling disappointed in herself for just pushing the problem ahead to deal with later.

“Aye,” Beryl breathes out in relief, “Ah can wait.” She visibly relaxes, tension leaving her body as she idly brushes some soot off of her sleeve. Only to pause. “Ach... Wha’ was Ah thinkin’...?” She mutters to herself. “We’re filthy...”

“I’ve got a nice bath at –”

The Wood Elf woman’s long and pointed ears spring up at the mere mention of a bath. “Come on then!” Her free hand once more grabs onto the crook of Krvavy’s arm, giving the Drakling an insistent tug. “No more dillydallyin’! Lead the way ta my new ‘ome!”

Krvavy blinks in surprise. The corner of her lip twitches upwards slightly as that excitement rubs off on her. A nice soak in the hot springs sounds wonderful right now. Though they still have quite the hike ahead of them... A couple hours at least... So no point in wasting time.

Putting one foot in front of the other, Krvavy does exactly what her Elf demands.