[NPC perspective] Meanwhile...

Unseen by Lux, and either unnoticed or ignored by Minn, a pack of dirty, ragged, blue-skinned creatures crouch within the dense foliage of the forest. They are of a size with halflings or goblins – although halflings and goblins alike would probably object to the comparison. In general shape they are humanoid, except that their heads are conspicuously, inconveniently large for their scrawny bodies. Bad as this would be on its own, it draws all the more attention to the singular ugliness of the features spread across their broad, grubby faces. Bug-eyed, they lurk behind their leafy cover, working up their courage to strike.

Urko peers through the lush foliage, waiting for a clear view of his prey. The lone dancing light of the sprite, though unusual – those tiny things usually move in swarms for safety – isn’t of much interest to him and his kin; not big enough to be worth eating, and no good for satisfying the urges that are truly pressing them at the moment. But the one that’s following the sprite…that one looks interesting.

There. She staggers into view, moving awkwardly, wounded maybe; ****. Urko’s hand moves down to stroke his yearning cock as he drinks in the sight. Big, but not too big to be manageable. Luscious, heavy tits bouncing enticingly in her tight top as she hurries along. Wide hips for birthing young, and a nice round ass to hold onto while planting them in her. Knowing that she would be repulsed by him – because mites repulse everyone – only heightens Urko’s yearning to **** her onto her knees, to pull that long ponytail like a ready-made leash, to make her submit…

“Is it…dryad?” At Urko’s side, Mukko is practically drooling with anticipation. “Did we find one? Did we?!”

“Shut up,” Urko hisses. Of course it’s not a dryad. The others have been obsessed with finding one ever since the clan drove them out of the caverns, to wander up here in the frightful openness of the forest. The mites have always been at the bottom of the Valley’s food chain, and this gang are outcasts even among the mites; **** to form their own clan here, without a single female to go around.

No, Urko knows all too well that they stand no chance of catching a dryad. To even approach a dryad’s grove would be foolish, and unlike his kindred, Urko is no fool. This prey, on the other hand…

“It’s better than a dryad,” he says, turning back to address the others. “Slow and fat and stupid. Easy to catch. Just get around her – trap her – and remember.” He holds up the weapon that makes him undisputed leader, the pixie-made lance; its miniature blade glitters with soporific dust. The others shy away from it instinctively. “Remember, I get to have her first.”