The scout scouts

Curiosity overcomes prudence, and you are the scout. You suppose you may as well do some actual scouting. You creep deeper into the grassy valley, passing beneath some large trees and into a small copse of woods. The smell is stronger here, and soon a glow takes form deeper in the dusk of the forest. You crouch lower and draw your crude stone knife, hesitating. The wise move would be to return to the rest with news you’ve found something. Then the first whiff of cooking meat reaches your nostrils. Your mouth waters. How long has it been since you ate cooked food? Too long. Quieting the growl of your belly you soldier on.

It’s slow going now. You move with infinite care, not rustling a single blade of grass. A goblin is small, and a goblin is quick, for if not for these and a rabbit like breeding, your kind would have been extinct long ago. The firelight grows brighter still, the crackle of flames audible now. At last you stop, smelling the heavenly scent of cooking meat, and very slowly raise your head to peer between the grass.

At first you have trouble making sense of what you see. Surely not. It cannot be! But it is. A woman. A human woman, all alone, is leaning against a tree. Before her burns a merry fire and, spitted over it, is an immense piece of venison. The scent is mouth-watering, the hiss of grease as it strikes the open flame nearly driving you mad, but it is the girl you stare at longest. She is the true prize. By her clothes, rough spun and homely, she must be one of the peasants from one of the villages you’ve come across, fled when whatever marches across these lands burned it to the ground. She’s likely been on her own for a while now, for her cheeks are pinched by hunger and eyes sunken by exhaustion. But even with these detractions you are thunderstruck be her beauty. You’ve had nothing to compare her to but the female goblins of the tribe, a sex neither fairer nor particularly favourable in rutting. Their coarse, harsh green skin cannot compare to this human’s soft tan brown, even covered as it is with dirt. Their stunted shapes and ponderous breasts nothing compared to this humans shapely figure: her full round breasts and curving shape even hidden by her rags; the smooth if matted blonde hair, and her face! What you wouldn’t give to shove your cock between those pillowy lips and ride her until you painted her with your cum.

You restrain yourself with difficulty from taking advantage of this scene. Your ingrained survival instinct, accentuated by your fellow goblins…errors so far stresses using your head. You examine her more closely. Judging by the way she’s eying that venison she hasn’t had much luck hunting, likley due to her only being armed with a knife that you can see. She's also covered in scratches and a few bruises, so her taking it down likely exhausted her. This is probably the closest she’s come to a proper meal in days. If you wait, she’ll probably eat up, then fall contentedly asleep, your best chance to get her. Of course, on the other hand, if you run and get the rest of the party, you’ll be able to take her easily (probably, provided they don’t get themselves killed on the way here), but then you'll have to share. You crouch amongst the grass and consider your options.