Tyler rubbed his temples, exhaling heavily. "Look, because you all thought I was some kind of Druid, the village sent you here to ’serve’ me? And since Druids are supposedly all about being one with nature, you figured stripping down to a couple of leaves was the appropriate uniform?" He gestured at his own fully clothed body— sturdy boots, pants, tunic, the works. "Didn’t it occur to anyone that I’m wearing actual clothes? Normal, appropriate clothes?"

The women didn’t answer right away. Instead, the village chief’s wife— a statuesque, middle-aged deer-kin woman with elegant antler nubs and soft tawny fur along her arms and thighs— stepped forward. Her heavy breasts swayed with the motion, full and pendulous, the tiny leaves doing absolutely nothing to contain them. The green scraps had ridden up completely; her dark, erect nipples jutted proudly above the edges like they were posing for inspection. The string dug into the undersides, lifting and accentuating every generous curve.

"It doesn’t matter if you deny it," she said, voice low and warm, almost maternal. "We understand. You’re hiding your Druid nature from the demons and the kingdom. That’s wise. Don’t worry— we’re not asking you to protect or provide for us. Let us take care of you instead." She smiled, slow and knowing.

Her daughter-in-law moved to stand beside her, younger, slimmer, but no less brazen. The leaf over her pussy had twisted sideways in the breeze, exposing one smooth, plump outer lip and a faint sheen of arousal. Behind her, five more village girls lined up in a loose semicircle—each wearing the same scandalous "outfit": two leaves up top that failed spectacularly at modesty, and a skimpy hip-string with front-and-back leaves that fluttered uselessly with every breath or shift of weight.

The youngest, the chief’s granddaughter, barely out of girlhood, pouted, arms crossed under her nearly flat chest. Her leaves sat higher than the others’, covering more by accident than design, and she kept glancing sideways at the fuller, jiggling breasts around her with obvious envy.

Tyler sighed again, deeper this time.

Right then, Kaeya strode out from the nearby hut, geared up for travel: leather bracers, short cloak, dagger at her hip, her sword slung over one shoulder. She froze mid-step, eyes sweeping over the near-naked deer-kin women, then landing squarely on Tyler.

"Nope," he blurted immediately, hands up. "It’s not what you think—"

Kaeya raised a palm, cutting him off. "Save it. I genuinely don’t care." She jerked her thumb toward the forest path. "I’m heading to the other tribes to ask about the real Druid. I already questioned these villagers—they all just pointed at you like you’re the second coming of nature itself. I’ll drop your name, promise rewards, the usual."

"Fine," Tyler said, shoulders slumping. "Just... be careful. Don’t visit more than one today. Tell them to spread the word to the others. Say we’re looking for my sibling, someone hiding deep in the forest. That should stop everyone from blindly fingering me as the guy."

Kaeya’s eyes lit up, a wicked grin spreading. "Oh, that’s perfect. Way easier. No more random pointing at you." She stepped closer, voice dropping to a teasing purr. "I thought your brain lived permanently in your pants, but apparently it’s migrated... slightly higher. Progress."

With a playful wink and a mock salute, she turned and vanished down the trail, leaving Tyler with six mostly naked deer-kin women who were still gazing at him like he was their personal nature god.

He groaned. "This princess."

---

By evening, Kaeya slipped quietly into the deeper parts of the forest. The trees grew closer here, their canopies interlocking until only thin strands of fading light filtered down. This region was known among the forest tribes as a place where shadows lingered longer than they should —a place where whispers carried farther than footsteps.

It was said that the Shadow Tribe moved only after dusk, never revealing themselves under the open sky. They spoke little, traded less, and vanished whenever outsiders came too close. Finding them in daylight was considered nearly impossible.

Yet Kaeya did not hesitate.

She stopped beneath a cluster of ancient trees, their bark blackened by age and time. The forest around her fell unnaturally silent. Even the insects seemed to hold their breath.

Then the darkness stirred.

One by one, figures dropped soundlessly from the branches above, landing in a loose circle around her. Thirty silhouettes emerged, cloaked in fabrics so dark they seemed to drink in the light. Their faces were obscured, their presence heavy but disciplined.

Kaeya did not reach for her sword.

Instead, she slipped a hand beneath her cloak and withdrew a small metal emblem. Though no larger than her palm, it radiated authority. Intricate lines etched across its surface formed a familiar crest—one that carried the weight of command and bloodline.

At the sight of it, the figures stiffened.

Without a word, every one of them knelt.

"Long live the Princess," they said in unison. "Long live the Commander of the Third Legion."

There was no Shadow Tribe— not truly. These were spies of the kingdom, trained and planted across the forest decades ago. Generations of them had lived as tribesfolk, passing information through hidden channels, watching movements of monsters, tribe folks, and the forest itself.

Kaeya lowered the emblem and nodded once. "Rise," she commanded calmly. "I require information. You will search for any trace of a druid within this forest— wandering, or hidden. Additionally, spread word among the tribes. Any credible information will be rewarded by Druid Tyler of the flower fields."

A ripple of acknowledgment passed through the group.

"As the Princess wishes," they replied.

Then, just as silently as they had appeared, they melted back into the forest, becoming shadows once more.

—

Far away, back in the flower fields, the mood could not have been more different.

The air was warm, fireflies flickering lazily among the tall flowers. Above, Dia and Serena hung upside down from a web stretched between two trees, Dia in her small spider form, Serena in her familiar orange cat body. Both swayed gently, eyes fixed on the scene below with open curiosity.

Leaves littered the ground around the main clearing, some crushed, others torn loose. The sound of movement echoed, clapping sound, short exclamations of surprise, moans and exertion.

At the center of it all is Tyler lying.

Surrounding him were the seven women from the Fruit Tribe, expressions a mix of determination and playful competitiveness.

What had begun as simple introduction had quickly escalated into something far more chaotic— a test of stamina, balance, and teamwork.

Tyler’s lower half was occupied by Village chief wife and her daughter in law. His face was occupied by her granddaughter. And other girls are also licking all over his body.

From above, Serena flicked her tail. "Nyaa... wanna join?."

Dia tilted her tiny head, watching intently as the "battle" below grew louder and messier, leaves scattering with every clash.

"NOPE." Dia replied, "It’s booring."