Slimantha blinked. A vortex of white mist reflected in the slime summoner’s brown eyes, the forest hidden beyond that swirling white. She blinked again, the black shoes cladding her feet pressing down into the grass beneath her—not that she could see the grass beneath her. Misty white even blotted out what she stood upon.

She raised her hands in front of herself, her eyes going to said hands. Though a veil of flowing white obscured her hands, she could, in fact, make out the tan skin of her fingers through the swirling mist. Maybe another blink would blink the mist away? Her eyes closed. A short while later, they re-opened. The obnoxiously thick mist still swirled. Maybe blinking wasn’t the answer then. Should she try punching it? Is punching mist a thing? She balled her right hand. The mist thinned and calmed. Wait. Did she scare it? Could mist even be scared? Her right fist unballed.

A certain hero, Samuel, blinked as the forest came back into view. “Uh, guys,” he said, glancing about the misty forest, “do any of you see Latril, Misty, or Rose?” He took a step to side. Green grass crushed softly beneath his black shoes.

Slimantha glanced first to her left and then to her right. Following that, she turned around. “They do seem to be kind of missing,” she said. Her eyes then went to Samuel, a smile on the slime summoner’s face. “I’m sure they are fine though. Probably just doing mist stuff in the mist or something.”

“Mist stuff in the mist?” Samuel said, his eyes on Slimantha now. “Maybe we should, you know, go look for them.”

“Why don’t we wait a bit to see if they turn up?” Ashkov said, stepping forward. The tall beautiful elf’s amber eyes were on Samuel. “I’m sure Slimantha’s right about them being fine.” She then glanced at Black the Witch before returning her eyes to Samuel. She leaned toward the hero, bringing her arms toward one another to emphasize the notable cleavage her green low-cut shirt displayed. “Ever thought of getting with an elf?” Samuel’s cheeks reddened as the tall curvy blonde straightened up and stepped closer to him. “You know what they say. Once you go elf, you don’t go ...”

“Back off, you elven tart!” The words came from Black. The cat woman’s black feline tail swished lividly behind her. Her brown eyes were on Ashkov. “Can’t you see you’re making him uncomfortable?!”

A stream of giggles slipped out from between Ashkov’s lips. Her porcelain-skinned hands—both of them—moved up to cover those lips. She stepped back, a few giggles still slipping out of her. Her long blonde hair, done up in twintails, swayed at her sides. Her giggles then came to a stop, and her hands went to the flask at her left hip. She detached the flask from the pink strap at her waist and then removed the flask’s cap. The now-open flask went to her lips. She took a swig of the flask’s contents.

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“So,” Ashkov said, her amber eyes going to Samuel, “want a drink?” She held her flask out to the hero. “It’s good.” She licked her lips and wiggled her flask.

Samuel’s blue eyes shifted from the beautiful elven woman wiggling her flask to said wiggling flask. He reached out and took the offered flask. He brought it to his lips.

A certain petite cat woman, Black, watched as Samuel’s lips met the rim of the elf’s flask. Her brown eyes grew wide, and her tail stiffened. Her black witch hat slipped off from atop her head. Her black feline ears twitched. Not far from her, Samuel gagged.

“So”—Ashkov giggled at the gagging Samuel—“how was my indirect kiss? To sweet?” The elf stepped forward but quickly found her path to the hero barred by an irate Black.

“Back off, you elven tart!” Black stood between Samuel and Ashkov, her eyes locked on the elf. Her ears twitched lividly. Her tail swished angrily. She leaned toward Ashkov, narrowing her eyes. “He’s not interested in you.”

Ashkov met the cat woman’s glare with a smile. “What makes you so sure of that?” the elf said. She then reached around Black, retrieving her flask from Samuel with her right hand. She pulled back and took another swig from said flask. Her amber eyes went back to Samuel. “Thanks for the indirect kiss. It was quite nice.” She smiled, but a certain cat woman twitched.

Slimantha glanced from Ashkov, to Samuel, and then to Black, who still stood in front of Samuel. “You alright?” the slime summoner said. She glanced up to Black’s still twitching cat ears. Her gaze then went back down to Black’s face. “I know. I’ll help you defend Samuel from Ashkov’s feminine wiles.” She took position at Black’s left. Behind the two women, a certain hero from another world, Samuel, sweatdropped.

“Thanks, Slimantha.” Black glanced at the slime summoner standing beside her. “You are a good friend.” She got a friendly nod from said slime summoner.

Samuel sighed. “Is it just me or has this situation turned ridiculous?” He glanced at the backs of the two women standing guard in front of him. Then he glanced around Slimantha and Black to Ashkov. The beautiful elven woman met his glance with a smile. Somehow, his cheeks started burning again. He then hung his head.

A few giggles slipped out of Ashkov as she capped her flask. She glanced at Slimantha, Black, and Samuel. “You guys seem like a fun bunch.” She returned her flask to its place at her left hip. Her eyes went back to Slimantha, Black, and the hero the two women were protecting. “I’m glad I met you guys.” She smiled. Then her eyes settled specifically on Black. “Alas, it seems to be a tad crowded. Perhaps”—she toyed with her right twintail—“it would be better if it was just the two of us.” Her eyes—her amber eyes—were still on Black.

The mist swirled. The elf smiled. The forest faded to swirling white.