Alfred heard leather wings hit wind and anxious voices both in his head and outside it. He blocked out both of them by simply focusing on economy of movement. He had to admit, this new body was much easier to move through skinny places. And no, he hadn’t been fat in the first place either! The satyr’s music was still floating on tendrils of the breeze, and as he pushed through a particularly thick thicket (resulting in some minor cuts with healed almost instantaneously) he caught sight of two more dryads half drifting, half dancing in the direction he was going. “Hey!” he called, hoping that the voice would startle them into awareness of what was going on! No dice. Damn! That made his job hard, really hard. How the hell was he going to stop this?
For about eight minutes, Alfred trailblazed through the forest, although the pines were gradually giving away to grass and beeches. The longer he travelled, the more girls he saw. This wasn’t fair! None of it was fair!
Alfred came to a clearing, and sprinted to catch up with a bark-colored girl, her chestnut hair intricately braided. He strained to put a hand on her shoulder, roughly grabbing her, pulling her to a stop. For a silent moment punctuated only by Alfred’s sharp breathing, there was a confused look on her face that for a split second turned to fear, and then it was gone with a few lilting notes again. Her face turned as blank as a doll’s, and she stood pliantly in front of him, a benign, empty smile on her lovely face.
Oh no, what? He thought he had something… Alfred grabbed her by both shoulders and began to shake her, telling her forcefully that she needed to leave. “Wake up, wake up! If you go any further, they’ll, they’ll!” Alfred’s voice broke. “Look, you can’t! Go back to your tree, go back to giggling! I don’t mind, I really don’t!” He dropped his hands from her slim frame.
She stood there for half a moment more, and then turned, and began her graceful dance in the direction of the music.
“Damn!” Alfred swore under his breath. He still had to stop this somehow! Alfred rubbed his palms on his pants, and followed her.
After two minutes more, he came to a much larger clearing, covered in grass and flowers. And there they were. About thirty of the dryads were dancing feverishly, gracefully in the yellow light, all shades of brown and green and cream. Off to the side stood around ten satyrs, playing their music. The only thing Alfred could do for a moment was stare in disbelief from his spot crouched in the bushes. He knew it was coming, but it was so odd to see half men, half goats! Their curly brown hair combined seamlessly into their clean upper bodies, with more hair on their forearms, matching the shade of the curls on their heads. One of them was sat on the ground, lounging on the grass while his plucked at his, what was it called, a lyre, right, and Alfred could see the cloven hooves. Alfred took a few deep breaths to calm himself. Their instruments ranged from pipes flute things to harps to recorders to weird guitars to shells to tambourines to horns, like actual horns! Weird instruments, just weird, everything about this place was weird. An odd side thought of Roderich drifted through his mind, about how he’d find this music, was quickly dismissed from his mind. Alfred needed to focus. How could he stop this, how could he stop this… His hands were on his thighs, and with a small fidget, his left wrist brushed against Bess’s holster. Perhaps… could he shoot them? Make them stop before they committed… It wasn’t self-defense, but it was in defense of another… And there was no guarantee at this distance he wouldn’t hit one of the girls in the process…
A cool, firm hand was placed gently on his shoulder, and Alfred looked up to see Aengus crouched next to him as well. “Come on, lad, we should get going before they stop playing the music.”
“What happens when they stop playing?” Alfred asked, though his squirming stomach already knew.
“That’s when the girls wake up and the chase begins.” Aengus said quietly. “It’s in their natures for this to ‘appen; it’s the way it all balances out.”
Crowe 7e/?
For about eight minutes, Alfred trailblazed through the forest, although the pines were gradually giving away to grass and beeches. The longer he travelled, the more girls he saw. This wasn’t fair! None of it was fair!
Alfred came to a clearing, and sprinted to catch up with a bark-colored girl, her chestnut hair intricately braided. He strained to put a hand on her shoulder, roughly grabbing her, pulling her to a stop. For a silent moment punctuated only by Alfred’s sharp breathing, there was a confused look on her face that for a split second turned to fear, and then it was gone with a few lilting notes again. Her face turned as blank as a doll’s, and she stood pliantly in front of him, a benign, empty smile on her lovely face.
Oh no, what? He thought he had something… Alfred grabbed her by both shoulders and began to shake her, telling her forcefully that she needed to leave. “Wake up, wake up! If you go any further, they’ll, they’ll!” Alfred’s voice broke. “Look, you can’t! Go back to your tree, go back to giggling! I don’t mind, I really don’t!” He dropped his hands from her slim frame.
She stood there for half a moment more, and then turned, and began her graceful dance in the direction of the music.
“Damn!” Alfred swore under his breath. He still had to stop this somehow! Alfred rubbed his palms on his pants, and followed her.
After two minutes more, he came to a much larger clearing, covered in grass and flowers. And there they were. About thirty of the dryads were dancing feverishly, gracefully in the yellow light, all shades of brown and green and cream. Off to the side stood around ten satyrs, playing their music. The only thing Alfred could do for a moment was stare in disbelief from his spot crouched in the bushes. He knew it was coming, but it was so odd to see half men, half goats! Their curly brown hair combined seamlessly into their clean upper bodies, with more hair on their forearms, matching the shade of the curls on their heads. One of them was sat on the ground, lounging on the grass while his plucked at his, what was it called, a lyre, right, and Alfred could see the cloven hooves. Alfred took a few deep breaths to calm himself. Their instruments ranged from pipes flute things to harps to recorders to weird guitars to shells to tambourines to horns, like actual horns! Weird instruments, just weird, everything about this place was weird. An odd side thought of Roderich drifted through his mind, about how he’d find this music, was quickly dismissed from his mind. Alfred needed to focus. How could he stop this, how could he stop this… His hands were on his thighs, and with a small fidget, his left wrist brushed against Bess’s holster. Perhaps… could he shoot them? Make them stop before they committed… It wasn’t self-defense, but it was in defense of another… And there was no guarantee at this distance he wouldn’t hit one of the girls in the process…
A cool, firm hand was placed gently on his shoulder, and Alfred looked up to see Aengus crouched next to him as well. “Come on, lad, we should get going before they stop playing the music.”
“What happens when they stop playing?” Alfred asked, though his squirming stomach already knew.
“That’s when the girls wake up and the chase begins.” Aengus said quietly. “It’s in their natures for this to ‘appen; it’s the way it all balances out.”