The hooded whatsit's exposition sounded like beginning of one of Arlen's creepy cousin's video games, but the sun felt warm on her bare skin, and the grass smelled...well, green. Bending to examine one of the tall blades, she pinched it, watched it fold, then crack and ooze a tiny drop of water. She still wasn't ready to admit this while thing wasn't some sort of acid trip, but for sure it was a damnably realistic one. Well, not counting the carnivorous bed and the Ghost of Christmas Never Happened.<br/><br/>While being naked in public didn't especially bother her- it was what she did for a living, after all- there<em>was </em>sunburn to be considered, not to mention bug bites, stones on bare feet, and staring lecches. She only gave a show to people she liked, or people who were paying for the privilege. She was in the middle of trying to figure out if she could weave at least a belt skirt and some sort of bandeau out of the grass when she heard the creak and rumble of some sort of vehicle. Ducking a bit into the greenery, she looked up the road.<br/><br/><em>Well, shit. An honest to God farm cart, jackass in front, and another one on top</em>. It was going to be real embarrassing if she had blacked out and wandered away into Amish country, or something. And hard to explain to...well, everyone. On the other hand, a farmer and his cart meant civilization couldn't be that far away- and real clothes would be more comfortable than grass, no matter how good a job she did with it. So plucking up her courage, she stepped out into the cart track- not quite the middle, but in a place Wilbur couldn't help but notice her.<br/><br/>She'd make quite a sight, she figured: long raven hair stirring a bit in the light wind, matched by equally-dark curls between her muscular thighs; strong arms folded at her  narrow waist, framing her heavy breasts, which hung and bobbed a bit, like real boobs do (especially 36 Cs), but the muscles under which were developed enough to keep them high and shapely. Thick purplish nips hard and saluting, too- honestly, the sun was warm, but it wasn't like Bahamas warm, and there<em>was</em>a breeze.  She had goosebumps, as well. Hell, if she'd come across herself on the side of the road, she'd want to give herself a ride- in both sense of the word.<br/><br/>No way in hell was yon simpleton going to miss seeing her, appearing suddenly from the grass like some sort of Playboy nature witch.  And if he didn't stop, just to get a better look, he was either lobotomized or dead.