With my attention span? Ha!

As I walk, I take in more of the town. When it comes to medieval living, the first thing that springs to mind is stories of how disgusting the conditions were way back when. I am pleasantly surprised when I find that the streets relatively clean. The air smells mostly pure, and not one bucket of piss is chucked out a window. Away from the square, things seemed to quieten down. The streets are practically deserted. After the hustle and bustle of the gate square, there only seem to be one or two passers by. Chalking it up to most people being at work with a shrug, I press on.

I have been walking for a good 10 or 15 minutes when a strong floral smell catches my attention, wafting to me on the cool breeze. It quickly catches my attention, as there had been little in the way of greenery so far in the cobbled streets. I look up at the sun overhead and make an inexpert guess at the time (probably around twoish?). Deciding that I had plenty of time to spare before the shops start closing, I follow my nose as I begin to investigate.

Further down the street, through a wrought-iron fence and gate, is what looks like a public garden. The gate is propped open, and I see no signs explicitly telling me I shouldn’t go in, so I step off the cobbles and onto a gravel path. The path leads me past well maintained lawns, before the path widens, looping around a pond in which a few fish lazily swim. Down the street, from where I just came, and up past where I was going, the garden is hemmed in by neighbouring buildings. Rather that letting out onto another street on the opposite side from where I had entered, the way is blocked by a tall, dense looking hedge.

I slowly follow the path round the gravel circle, examining the beds of flowers that have been planted around the outside of the path. Enjoying the relaxed feel of the area and the quality of the day, I take a deep lungful of air, savouring the smell of flowers and freshly cut grass carried to me on the slight breeze, I contented smile on my lips.

The garden is a calm, secluded spot that brings back bittersweet memories. I take a moment to remember times spent with Aunt Viv in a garden a lot like this one back when I was a kid. I had driven her up the wall on more than one occasion when I had discovered a small gap in the hedge that led to a private part of the garden. Smiling at the memory, I examine the back hedge of the garden for shits and giggles, not expecting to find anything. That, of course, is when I notice it. Artfully concealed between two hedges is a gap, just big enough for an adult to squeeze through.

I’m not a child anymore, I think, nimbly hopping over the bed of flowers between me and the gap, I couldn’t possibly explore where this gap leads. Oh, what’s this? A strange noise? Someone may be calling for help! Would be rude of my not to investigate, just in case. Finished with my flimsy self-justifications, I take a last look around to make sure I’m not being watched, then push into the hedge.

It’s a little more difficult to squeeze through the gap than I initially expected, I have grown up a little since my last hedge-based adventure. Resolute in the face of itchy, slightly prickly adversity, I press on. Finally, I see light at the end of the tunnel. I poke my head out of my leafy prison and look around to see where my secret tunnel has led. I’ve bravely discovered (and not broken into) what looks to be some sort of herb garden.

Row upon row of leafy plants grow in beds up and down the space. Some herbs I recognise, peppermint, basil, and the like, but most are alien to me. the garden only has one occupant currently other than me. Facing away from me and down on her hands and knees, face practically buried in a herb bed as she weeds, is a Beastkin woman.

So far, I have noticed two things about the people of this world. First, there seem to be no kids about anywhere (which is a little weird, but not important right now). Second, and by far the more interesting to me at this moment, is that every single person I have seen so far has been ridiculously attractive by earth standards, and the curvy goddess of a woman in front of me is no exception.

At first guess, she is some sort of deer woman. Poking through her shoulder length ginger hair either side of her head are two fluffy leaf shaped ears, and a short, stark white tail sticks up from her lower back. It's not her animal features, cute as they may be, that have me so enraptured, however. What catches all of my focus, and locks me in place, and has my heart beating a mile a minute, is that the woman is stark bollock naked. _T_hat, I think, somewhere between shock and awe, is one hell of a woman. Pink with embarrassment and not a small amount of lust, I begin slowly backing into the hedge, feeling a little guilty for spying on the naked woman.

*Crack*.

The noise of a twig breaking underfoot rings out through the garden, loud as a gunshot in the relative silence. My head whips down to the source of the noise but the damage is already done. Slowly, I look back up. My breath catches when I see that she is looking right at me over her shoulder. Our eyes meet.

My heart pounds in my ears, and I cringe slightly, waiting for the inevitable outraged scream. A scream that never comes? I swear I see a small smile flit across the woman’s face. Languidly, she winks at me, then turns back to the herb bed, resuming her work. But her posture is different this time. She is bent further forward, and her knees are spread just slightly further apart. Is she…? Is she putting on a show for me? My breathing quickens, and I feel an ache building inside me as arousal steadily builds. deep down, I am conflicted. Would it be such a bad thing? If I stayed and watched?