She's rescued

Her unseen **** suddenly gave a great howl. A thrill of anticipation ran through Aerneath, and she expected at any moment for the beast’s seed to flood her womb. But then, to her affronted shock, it pushed her roughly aside, sending her sprawling on the forest floor as its penis jerked out of her.

Before she could get a good look at it, the great brown-furred shape turned and dashed off into the woods. Blood stained the leaves where it had passed, and she thought she glimpsed an arrow lodged in its shoulder.

It was with mixed feelings that Aerneath turned to her rescuer. On the one hand, she had been saved from being the brutally used sex-toy of a monster, and quite possibly from being eaten. On the other hand, the creature had been routed at the worst possible time, when she was on the edge of cuming. Now she was horrifically horny, and having to struggle with the temptation to just lie down in the undergrowth and masturbate. So, she was feeling somewhat ambivalent when she saw the archer.

To her surprise, it was a woman. Also, it was one of her own kind – to an extent. Although clearly an elf, the woman was just as clearly one of the wild, primitive Wood Elves – something of an oddity, as no tribes were supposed to live in this particular forest. She was attractive enough, with silky brown hair tied back in a practical ponytail, and curves which filled her tight leather hunting outfit quite nicely. In addition to her quiver, a wood and crystal wand hung at her waist, indicating she was also a mage of some sort. Spiralling woad tattoos marked her cheeks, and Aerneath found herself wondering if they decorated the rest of her body, under her clothes.

“Are you the whore?” the Wood Elf demanded, her voice soft and musical.

The words stung Aerneath. Yes, she was a whore, there were few in the world who were more whore than she, but she resented that tone of contempt, especially from an uncivilised Wood Elf. Affronted, she drew herself up to her full (admittedly petite) height, ignoring that her body was nude apart from a few shredded rags, that she was smeared with dirt and leaf-mould, that her juices had left an obvious wet stain down both her thighs, and that the very person she was attempting to overawe had seen her happily submitting to **** by a wild beast.

“I,” she snapped, “am Aerneath of Elohin, elite courtesan of ‘The Dragon’s Lover’. Who are you?”