White … So much white …
Slimantha pouted, gazing into the swirling mass of all-engulfing white mist. She glanced to the side—glanced into yet more white. She huffed and then took took a few steps. Then an oof slipped out from between her lips as she walked into someone, a paired oof coming from that someone. She fell down.
Slimantha moaned as she pushed herself up to her hands and knees. She blinked, feeling something pleasantly soft against her right hand. She squeezed that something. What was it? Why did it feel so familiar? She blinked again.
“Get”—bloodlust pierced the veil of white—“off.”
Get off? Wait. Was Slimantha on top of a woman? Was she groping one of that woman’s … She absentmindedly squeezed the pleasantly soft thing again but froze when a fresh wave of bloodlust hit her. She should probably stop squeezing that. She withdrew her right hand and sat back.
The mist beneath her thinned. An irate woman with short black hair and feathery black wings came into view. Slimantha sat straddling this woman. Her eyes met the woman’s eyes. The woman truly had beautiful eyes—golden eyes that each contained the likeness of an upward-turned sword. Slimantha recognized the beauty beneath her. The beauty was her girlfriend, Latril the Crow.
Latril’s gaze softened upon recognizing Slimantha. A smile came to the swird woman’s lips. “Actually,” she said, “I take back the ‘get off’ thing.” She reached to Slimantha’s back as the slime summoner leaned closer to her. “Now that you have me, what are you going to do with me?” Her tone of voice had taken on a flirtatious manner. She shifted her wings, making herself more comfortable.
Slimantha smiled, enjoying the feel of her girlfriend’s hands at her back. She leaned even closer to the swird woman and gently stroked her right hand’s fingers along said swird woman’s left wing. Then she brought her right hand to Latril’s face and lovingly stroked Latril’s left cheek. The swird woman’s ivory skin felt soft and inviting against the tan skin of Slimantha’s fingers.
“Just what,” Slimantha said, stroking her left hand’s fingers along Latril’s right wing now, “am I going to do with you?” Her gaze drifted to Latril’s lips. “Maybe I should start with those delicious lips of yours.” She pressed closer, her lips parted. Latril did not return the gesture.
“Actually, I take back the ‘taking back’ thing,” Latril deadpanned. “Get off.”
Slimantha blinked. She sat back, now straddling Latril’s waist. “Get off. Don’t get off. Get off again,” the slime summoner said, somewhat flustered. “I’m kind of getting mixed signals here. So you don’t want to continue?”
Now Latril blinked. Finally, the swird woman said, “we can continue this later. Look around.”
“Look around?” Slimantha did as requested. Her face promptly flushed red. The mist had continued to thin, and it no longer offered her and Latril privacy. Samuel, Black, Rose, and Mitsy were all there and could obviously see her and Latril now. She quickly scurried to her feet and then helped Latril up. The slime summoner’s cheeks continued burning a tad longer.
“So,” Black said, breaking the somewhat-awkward silence, “looks like we are all together again.” Her brown eyes scanned the group. Her black feline tail swished behind her. “Looks like that elven woman is gone though.” Her eyes then pivoted to Samuel, and she smiled. Her tail gave another swish. “Actually”—she stepped toward Samuel the Hero From Another World—“there is something I want to ask you.” She leaned forward, hinging at her hips slightly. Her hat tilted to her right but didn’t fall. Her tail maneuvered energetically behind her.
Samuel, for his part, stepped back from Black the Witch. “You,” he said, his blue eyes on the witch, “want to mess with me, don’t you?”
Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.
Black straightened up and pouted. “Mess with you? When have I ever …” A drop of sweat rolled down the cat woman’s right cheek. “Actually, don’t answer that.” She then smiled. “There is something I want to ask you though.” She took another step toward him, her lovely brown eyes on his blue eyes. “Would you …” She glanced away, her mannerisms turning coy. Her eyes went back to him. “Would you be my boyfriend?!” For some reason, she blurted the question out. Her tail stiffened. Her cheeks turned red. “I-I really like you, and …” She shifted, avoiding his eyes. “Goddess, this is embarrassing.”
“I’d love to be your boyfriend,” Samuel said, giving the flustered cat woman his answer.
Black’s eyes returned to Samuel’s eyes. Red still showed on her cheeks. A beautiful smile showed upon her face. She stepped up to the hero and got up on her tiptoes. Her black witch hat tumbled to the forest floor. Her lips pressed to his, and they kissed. His arms reached around her. Her tail swished happily. Her black feline ears twitched.
Nearby, two women—one a tall plant woman and the other a petite mimic—stood, their mouths agape. The plant woman, Rose, turned to the mimic, Mitsy. “Did we”—Rose blinked—“just lose to Black?”
Mitsy looked at Rose. “I think so,” the petite golden woman said. She slouched over.
Rose glanced at Samuel and Black, the new couple, before her pink eyes went back to Mitsy. “I-I’m happy for Black, but”—now the plant woman slouched—“this totes sucks.”
“I guess we just need to get over it.” Mitsy sighed, and then her golden eyes went to Samuel and Black. “They are kind of cute together.”
Rose’s eyes shifted back to Samuel and Black. “I,” the plant woman said, “see your point. They do make a cute couple.”
Slimantha glanced from Black to Rose, a cute little pout on the slime summoner’s face. RIP, team Rose. Her eyes—her brown eyes—then went back to Black, and she gave Black a smile and a right-handed thumbs up. True, she felt bad for team Rose, but she certainly was happy for team Black. After all, Black was her good friend Black. How could she not be happy for Black?
The remaining mist then vanished. The forest around Slimantha and company came fully into view. Rays of sunlight shown brilliantly through the canopy. A golden peak poked up above said canopy. Slimantha’s eyes were now on said peak. She blinked and then glanced at Mitsy. She pointed at the golden peak poking up above the forest’s canopy.
“Is that Gold Mountain?” the slime summoner said. “That totes looks like a Gold Mountain.”
Mitsy looked at the golden peak Slimantha had reference. “That’s Gold Mountain,” the mimic said simply.
“Great!” Slimantha smiled, her eyes on Gold Mountain’s peak. “Now that we have found Gold Mountain”—she glanced at the others—“let’s go.”
Slimantha got a series of nods for the most part. Mitsy, though, just stared at the peak for a moment with a dead-eyed look. Finally, the mimic turned to Slimantha and gave the slime summoner a nod too.
Samuel’s blue eyes returned to the lovely Black and then shifted to Black’s witch hat. Said witch hat still lay upon the forest grass where it had fallen. He picked the hat up and handed it to its owner.
“Thank you,” Black said, accepting her hat from Samuel. She pulled the hat to her chest and gave Samuel, her boyfriend, a smile. Then she put the hat back on and turned away from Samuel to Slimantha. “Well, let’s get going.” She pressed back toward Samuel. Her tail swished and rubbed against Samuel’s right leg, bringing a soft blush to the hero’s cheeks. She glanced back at him and snickered. Then her eyes went back to Slimantha. She and the rest of the group fell into step with the slime summoner as said slime summoner led them toward Gold Mountain.
Slimantha’s group having vacated the area, a certain elf, Ashkov, stepped out from behind a tree. A green long-sleeved shirt clad her top, and green leggings clad her bottom. A pair of brown shoes clad her feet. Her long blonde hair had been done up in twintails, a pair of pink ribbons holding her hair in said twintails. In her right hand, she held a rectangular crystal up to her face.
“I let them though,” Ashkov said, speaking into the crystal. Using her left hand, she toyed with her left twintail. “That’s right. That missing mimic is with them.” The crack of a twig suddenly got her attention. Her amber eyes darted to the sound’s source. Something had stepped out from behind a tree. She smiled. “There’s something I need to take care of. See you soon.” She slipped the crystal into the brown pouch at her left hip.
A red-cloaked humanoid creature stood beside a tree. The creature’s skin showed green, and its bulbous black eyes lacked whites. The long red claws extending from the creature’s hands glinted. The creature, the Thing in the Mist, readied its claws.
Ashkov giggled. “How many times,” she said, her amber eyes on the Thing in the Mist, “must I teach you this lesson, old fool?” She then took on a fighting stance herself, her eyes still on her opponent. A confident smile showed upon her face. Around her and her opponent, no mist obscured the forest. The forest was clear.