More fucking goblins

"Are you fucking serious?" I turned to face Alva, who ignored my question. The itching between my shoulders had only gotten worse, and when I brought it up to Alva, she had uttered a single word. I resisted the urge to look around, and instead focused on the Exciser. "You didn't think that was important?"

"No."

"They're monsters, aren't they?" I rolled my eyes. "Shouldn't you be chopping them up?"

"If they attack, they will die." She replied simply. "They are surprising cautious, for goblins, but our priority is the Witch."

The Dryad tugged at my arm, babbling in a mocking mimicry of Alva. She had the tone and body language down, and I had to suppress a snicker. She let go of my arm and pantomimed, despite her bound wrists, showing something small. She drew a wide circle in the air and then bared her teeth. "I think Dryad just offered to deal with the pests."

"No."

I patted Dryad's head apologetically as she pouted, wondering idly how much of this she really understood. Then I remembered the eagerness with which she'd tried to bite my bloody head off, and wondered instead how much her bubbly and vacuous nature was a front.

There were, afterall, many colorful and poisonous plants.

The tension built in me as more and more sighs of the goblins became obvious. A sound here, a flash of green there, and the scent.

Gooseflesh ran up and down my arms, and I couldn’t say if it was from trepidation, exultation, or arousal.

I looked to the side and met a bulbous pair of yellow eyes, twisted specks of black pupil swirling in their depths. An arrow sprung from the brush, flying straight towards me. Fire blossomed in my view and silver flashed, the arrow spiraling harmlessly in pieces. Alva leapt towards the archer, a faint amber light flashing against the ground. In a heartbeat she'd sent a head flying into the depths of the forest and painted the trees with dark goblin blood.

A dozen feet pattered against the ground, five goblins running from the scene and one running towards Alva with a stone axe raised high. I heard a laugh from beside me, and turned to see the Dryad raise her bound wrists.