Approach

Cyrus decided the best course of action was to approach them. After all, he was dying of thirst and needed water. If they were hostile and he approached they might just take him captive and give him a possibility to escape later. If he spied on them and eventually stole from them because of his thirst, and they happened to be hostile, they would likely **** and kill him. Of course, that was the absolute worst case scenario. He hoped they were just willing to help him and would appreciate his non-hostile approach. After all, he hardly wished to be killed or captured.

As he approached, the remaining occupant of the camp became clearer. The mysterious flute player was a young woman with medium-length brown hair sitting on a rock near the entrance of the camp. She was wearing a long dark-green skirt and boots of the same color. And she was topless. The realization startled him at first. Not what he was expecting at all. They were probably a small c-cup, but very perky.

He approached cautiously, raising his hands to show he was weaponless. She didn't bother to cover her chest as he approached, in fact she acted like it was completely normal to be bare chested even when approached by a strange man.

"Who are you and what are you doing alone in the Dark Forest?" She didn't look hostile as she said this, just confused at him being there. He was just glad she spoke English.

"Thank goodness. You speak English. You say we're in the Dark Forest? What country is that in? Do you know who could have brought me here?" Questions flooded out of Cyrus like a torrential flood.

She now looked even more confused. "English? What is that? I'm speaking Hesran. How could you not know that, speaking it yourself? And this is obviously Hesra. You don't know how you wound up here?"

Hesran? What the hell was that? This was clearly English. And where was Hesra? He had never seen that on any map in Geography class. Then he realized, they might share the language, but here it was not named after England. But how did English come here without England? As he pondered this, he realized his eyes were focused on her chest.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to stare at your chest." He spit out, embarrassed.

"Is there something wrong with it?" She said, looking down at her chest and moving her breasts around so she could see the whole thing. Not finding anything, she looked at him. "Is there something on the underside of my breast? Is it the left one or the right one?"

"No no no. Your breasts are perfect. You don't mind me looking at them?" She was a strange woman indeed.

"Why should I? Perfectly natural to look at them. But why do you look at them so oddly?"

"Aren't you embarrassed? Some random stranger is looking at your breasts and you don't mind at all?" Cyrus said, looking off to the side so as to not focus on them rudely.

"Ah, that's right. Who are you again and how did you get here? I'm Eva and I'm travelling with the Merchant family Poleqia." She squinted her eyes suspiciously. "You're not here to rob us are you? Are you a scout to distract us?" As she said this, she pulled a knife out of her boots whipped around rapidly, her breasts bouncing as she did so, searching the forest. Before he knew it, her knife was at his throat.

"No! I'm not! I swear! Look, I don't know how I ended up here. I think I was ****."

Eva looks at Cyrus, sizing him up, before deciding he's telling the truth. She puts her knife down. "Even if you were a scout to distract us, those clothes are way too outlandish and draw suspicion. I guess you have to be telling the truth. What's your name?" After deciding he's not a threat, she doesn't know what to make of him.