The courtyard turns into a screaming, blushing, butt-slapping, clothes-shredding strip-stravaganza. The elf girls are in a frenzy trying to find a way to escape, but all the doors are locked. You rip off sun elf togas, island elf sarongs, the shorts and bandeau outfits favored by the river elves, the raw hides worn by the arctic elves, the delicate silks and golds of the gold elves...
Your eye falls on a beautiful green girl with shapely breasts and short, orange hair. She's wearing a short skirt and a top, both of which seem to be made out of natural, living foliage. She tenses up when she meets your eye, and turns to climb up a nearby tree. She's got all the climbing skill of a monkey, and when you watch her climb to the top, you find that an assortment of similar elves are already taking refuge in the branches.
"Daisy, what's with the green elves?" you say.
"Oh, they're fun!" says Daisy. "They're called jungle elves. Try pruning their leaves and see what happens!"
"You will never 'prune our leaves'!" says the orange-haired jungle elf. "We jungle elves are not so easy to--"
"What's your name, cutie?"
"...Lakua, and among my people I am a great huntress with--"
"Great. Hold right there for a second."
You burn a pair of sun elf panties and work your magic. Lakua's eyes widen when she feels the vine that makes up her top begin to animate and unravel. Though she tries to hold on to it, it snakes out of her grip and off of her body, leaving her to cling to her breasts instead of the tree. You now discover that the jungle elf is in fact wearing just a single vine, which really opens up your possibilities. Guiding the vine to wrap itself securely around a sturdy branch, you yank the girl from her perch and send her tumbling down the tree. She spins and screams the whole way, caught a few feet over the ground after the vine has fully unraveled.
This is the day that you learn that jungle elf women wear nothing but a vine that grows from their butts.
"Don't look!" Lakua screams, trying to cover her body as she sways back and forth, upside-down, hanging by her butt. "It's not funny!"
"No, it's very funny," says Daisy. Judging by the laughter from the spectators, she's speaking for everyone.
"And pretty cool, too!" you say, studying the vine. "So, can we remove this, or is it a part of her?"
"No, it's a separate entity," says Daisy. "You can totally remove it without hurting her."
"You'd better not!" says Lakua.
"Looks like it's rooted pretty deep," you say. "Daisy, give me a hand."
"No, I need that!" says Lakua. "Jungle elf women can't wear normal textiles!"
Daisy takes Lakua by the hands, and you take her by the vine. Bracing your foot against her butt, you both begin to pull. She's a pretty great sight: Her torso all stretched out, her big green d-cups knocking together like a ripe pair of mangos, her toned butt clenching in a vain attempt to retain the root of her erstwhile clothing.
"You're condemning me to be naked until I can re-grow!" she says.
"Fun!" you say.
You give her one good slap to the buttock, and finally the root comes fully dislodged. A naked Lakua tumbles into Daisy's tits. The audience cheers.
Her kinfolk in the tree above blanche.
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