"G'day to you then," the satyr tipped his head. His dark eyes flashed across Rose and then her three companions - it was fairly clear from his face that he wouldn't have minded ravishing any or all of them (perhaps simultaneously), but that due to the nymphs or whatever reason he wasn't openly propositioning just now.<br/><br/>"Hmm," Aria shrugged as they went on, and commented to the elf girls, "Nice to exist on a plane where such as one's weightest cares, I suppose?"<br/><br/>Ama giggled, but then sighed, "Yes...or at least, I used to think so when such things<em>were</em>."<br/><br/>"Ah," Aria thought back to what the two had just been through, and smiled apologetically. Still, it was odd - the two elves didn't seem traumatized at all by the ideal - it reminded her of the other aristocratic girls back home who might realize some guy was a bit of a scoundrel and lose her interest, and take some glee if he got his due, rather than the deadened faces and souls of recent sex-slaves. Perhaps it was the drugs, or perhaps they'd been too docile as housebound playthings to find out how firm the fist holding them there could get. Or perhaps they were the sort of females who'd put up with a certain amount of paternalism or boorishness in exchange for material luxury and freedom from cares.<br/><br/>Just shy of an hour later, with the land still gently climbing and the underbrush thinning but the trees only growing taller and grander like cathedral columns, Rose would spot four elven archers hidden high in small tree-house forts ahead. Like Prime elves they were clearly meant to spot visitors before being spotted, but had not escaped the tiger-like eyes of the most recent to come their way. Two of each gender and all with long straight hair of sable blue, they wore mithral shirts with leaf-patterned chain links, and carried bows so intricately carved it seemed the characters down the shafts each told some short story, but otherwise wore only paper-thin green silk and the usual pouches and quivers.