You scatter them, and see your chance

The arrow thuds into the chest of the cold-eyed elf. Her eyes widen, a look of abject shock blooming across her face. Then she slumps forward and hits the the ground with a dull thump. As her stunned comrades gaze in horror at her fallen body, you've already drawn the next shaft and found your target, a tall human in fancy chainmail armor. Your second shot finds his eye, your third the broad chest of a bearded dwarf near the back of the column.

You've never been this focused before, your eye never this sure. Each arrow is slipped from your quiver, lined up and fired at its target in just seconds. You know you have to keep the shots coming, make these bastards think they're under attack by an army rather than just one huntress. They have to panic before they realize every single arrow's coming from the same tree. You pick out the leaders, those who stand tall and bellow orders rather than cower or run. Ice runs through your veins, keeping your arm steady even as you kill and kill and kill.

These aren't trained soldiers, just opportunists. They break after your ninth shot plunges into the heart of a fierce-looking man who was trying to rally them with frenzied commands. A small group plunges into the trees, sprinting away as quickly as they can manage. That trickle becomes a flood when you cut down another target, and soon every slaver still standing is running like a scared deer. As much as you long to hunt each of them down in turn, you know you can't alone. Instead, you take this chance to free the slaves, slipping down the tree to land lightly on the forest floor.

The trio of naked elves are cowering, huddled together and whimpering in fear. They can't even flee, not with their shackles still fastened to the belts of the men you killed. You sprint over, lowering your bow. The boy sees you first, his huge emerald eyes wide with panic as he stares up at your towering green body. He's about to scream, but you raise a finger to you lips and hush him sharply. The last thing you need is one of the slavers remembering they left their prizes behind. He falls silent with a scared whimper, plump, pink lips pursed shut. The two sisters turn as well, just as you're pulling their leashes away from each of the three corpses holding them here. They stare up at you fearfully with the same pretty, freckled face. Twins, you're guessing, which makes the boy their younger brother.

You pull your skinning dagger from your belt, and one of the girls squeals in terror. You hush her sharply and point at the leather strap between her ankles. She nods stiffly, understanding, then awkwardly stretches out her bare legs towards you. She's still and shivering as you cut the hobble. As you pull her legs apart, you can't help but admire how smooth her skin feels under your callused fingers. Her sister's just the same, so pretty and pale, with soft thighs as white as a virgin snow-drift. As you cut her hobble, you feel a heat rising inside you that makes you clench your teeth. You move to free the boy last, reminding yourself firmly that you don't have time to ogle them. He's somehow even softer than his sisters, and you can't stop yourself glancing between his plump thighs. His dick is tiny, barely the size of your thumb, with a little pink sack dangling below it. As cute and girly as the rest of him.

Just like that, you hear a harsh shout from the woods ahead of you. One of the slavers. Cursing your distraction, you grab the boy firmly in your large green hands. He's small and slender, so you can easily lift him up and toss his naked body across your shoulder like a sack. His head hangs over your back, soft, snow-white legs dangling across your broad chest. You can hear him whimpering in panic in your ear, but you don't have time to free or soothe him. You pin him there with a palm, then rise to your feet, pulling with you the twin's leashes still clutched in your other hand. The girls are staring at you in fear. You hope they understand you're carrying their brother like this for good reason.

"Come with me." You grunt at them. Thankfully, the pair don't question their good fortune for a second longer. They stumble up awkwardly, with their hands still bound to their collars. You give the leads another yank, and turn to lope away into the trees, plunging your body into the thick undergrowth. The girls dart after you, seeming to trust that whatever fate you have in store for them will be better than falling back into the hands of their captors. They move with a feline grace you envy despite their bonds, hardly seeming to touch the branches they slip between. The boy meanwhile, is bouncing up and down on your shoulder with each loping stride you take through the undergrowth. He's still squeaking like a startled mouse, your hand keeping him pinned there no matter how much he wriggles.

You know these woods like the back of your hand, and with their tracker dead, no slaver is going to be able to follow you here. Looping around through the trees, you pull the twins with you across a shallow stream to hide your footprints. Then you mount the bank and move along the water, heading towards your lonely cabin hidden in a sheltered grove. You'll be safe there, and you can decide just what it is you're going to do with these three pretty elves you've saved.