Through the Brush
The forest was alive with quiet sounds—branches bending, birds stirring, and the faint hush of wind threading between leaves. Darkness had parted from Kara earlier that morning, though the girl's awkward slip of the tongue still lingered in her thoughts. Wrestling again… fufufu. The memory alone brought a faint curl to her lips as she pushed aside a low-hanging branch and crouched near the undergrowth.
That was when she heard it.
Not the soft rustle of animals, nor the cautious tread of goblin feet. This sound was heavier, rhythmic—panting breaths, sharp cries muffled against the forest air. Darkness narrowed her eyes, lowering herself into the tall grass until the stalks brushed her cheek.
Through the thin veil of leaves, she saw Kara.
The Scene Unfolds
The young adventurer was entangled in the rough clutch of a goblin. Its wiry green frame moved with desperate aggression, pressing into her with unrestrained rhythm. Kara's face burned, mouth half open, her eyes glassy with confusion and heat. Her body gleamed with sweat, limbs trembling as she writhed beneath the creature's frantic motions.
The goblin groaned, its hands gripping her hips. Kara gasped, her voice spilling into small cries that broke and stuttered, the very sounds of her effort and struggle warping into something softer, stranger.
Darkness tilted her head slightly, observing the tableau with a calm curiosity that bordered on cruel amusement.
"So she truly could not resist…" she whispered, her lips curving upward.
Her laughter slipped free, low and silken—fufufu.
But she did not interfere. Not once did she announce herself. Kara, lost in the haze of her "battle," never sensed the watchful eyes just a breath away through the thicket. Darkness lingered only long enough to savor the sight of Kara's inescapable honesty—her denial unraveling into the most blatant confession of all.
Then, quietly, gracefully, she rose.
Without sound or warning, Darkness melted back into the forest, leaving Kara alone with her chosen fight.
The Hunt Resumes
The path twisted deeper into the woods, and the sounds of Kara's westling faded until only birdsong remained. Darkness adjusted the leather strap of her shoulder guard, feeling the faint ache of her last encounter with goblins. She hadn't forgotten her goal: coin, trophies, experience.
To draw goblins out, she relied not on brute force—her crude branch wasn't made for such direct tactics—but on guile. A tactic she had perfected, toying with their primal instincts and luring them into vulnerable positions.
She stepped into a small clearing, sunlight pooling against her armor. There she loosened her stance, letting her shoulders fall back, her chest rise, her hips sway with exaggerated languor. Each step was deliberate, calculated to invite hungry eyes. She tugged lightly at her neckline, just enough for a careless hint of pale skin, then exhaled a sigh laced with false fatigue.
It didn't take long.
From the treeline came the rustle of movement—two goblins, then a third, eyes gleaming with dull malice and hunger. They snickered and grunted to one another, emboldened by what they believed to be weakness.
Darkness met their stares with a soft smile.
"Come closer," she whispered, her voice honeyed. "Fufufu…"
The Battle with the Branch
As the first goblin lunged, claws outstretched, Darkness twisted her body aside with a dancer's grace. Her hand shot downward, closing around the familiar weight of her weapon: a weathered length of wood, once part of a tree, now carved and hardened into the crude form of a staff.
The branch.
Her old companion.
She swung it in a sharp arc, the wood cracking across the goblin's temple. The creature spun, dazed, before collapsing to its knees.
Another rushed in, eager to seize her arm. She pivoted on her heel, feigning a stumble. Its grubby hand nearly caught her—until she ducked low and drove the stick upward, jabbing its gut with brutal force. The goblin folded forward with a groan, wheezing as it toppled.
The third hesitated, perhaps sensing the deception too late. Darkness licked her lips, her eyes alight, and beckoned with one gloved finger.
"Come now… don't be shy."
It screeched, rage outweighing reason, and hurled itself at her. Darkness shifted sideways, catching its arm with her free hand. With a sharp pivot, she slammed the length of wood across its back. A crack echoed through the clearing as the goblin crumpled, writhing.
Silence followed. Only the faint hum of the forest filled the air again.
Darkness's Reflection
She stood tall, resting the branch across her shoulders. Her chest rose and fell with controlled breaths, a satisfied warmth pulsing through her limbs.
The goblins lay scattered in the dirt, groaning, beaten into submission. Weak prey. Hardly worth the trouble—yet valuable enough to fund her next meal, perhaps another night at that miserable inn if she couldn't save enough for better.
Still, the fight had given her more than coin. It had reminded her of the thrill, the delicate balance between danger and dominance.
She tilted her head, golden hair catching the sunlight, and allowed herself a small laugh.
"Fufufu… old friend," she murmured, patting the branch affectionately. "You and I aren't done yet."
Her eyes lifted toward the forest in the direction she had left Kara.
What would the girl say, if she knew Darkness had seen her? Would she crumble in shame, or insist again that her "slip" meant nothing?
Darkness's lips curved.
Either way, the truth had already shown itself.
And the truth amused her deeply.
With her branch in hand and her laughter still lingering, Darkness walked on, deeper into the hunt.