Making Amends

I’D BETTER HIDE THE BODY, THOUGH. The guy I captured expired while I was draining his mind, and having a corpse here won’t help my case when the girls arrive.

Luckily, my senses grew a notch or two sharper after eating the dragon, so I was able to detect them before they found me. This gives me enough time to dig a hole using earth magic, dump the body inside and… there we go.

Nothing happened here.

Oh, the armored guy? No clue where he went! And don’t mind the bag of gold I’ve got with me, either. I happened to find it here in the woods, honest.

Jokes aside, the girls are getting close. Their footsteps are well concealed, but one of them has this strong scent about her… is it pheromones? Shit. It could be the bear in me, but the smell is getting in my head.

In any case, I don’t want to spook them, so…

“Ladies,” I called out with caution. “I’m not a hostile. Don’t shoot, please.”

I’ve had enough explosive arrows for a day, thank you.

“Master Druid,” one of them replied, “we’ve come to apologize. We didn’t mean to attack you earlier, but our friend’s hand slipped. We’d like to make amends with you.”

Her voice is as sweet as a melody. The elf, if I’m hearing it right. But a druid? They’ve mistaken me for something else, it seems.

“Very well,” I replied. “I’m over here by the clearing.”

I’m back in my human form. Still naked except for a loincloth, but hopefully they’ll take it more kindly than an animal shape.

The trio of adventurers stepped out from the shrubbery, and into the clearing where I’d taken roost. The silver-haired girl looked around for a moment, probably trying to find the guy I captured, but she made no mention of him.

“My name is Cerys’tavelle Cornaya,” the elf introduced herself. “I am a former court mage of the Kingdom of Sylphadim, and a current member of the Adventurer’s Guild. These are my comrades, Amelia Schwartz of Sylphadim, and Lupoxana of the Ferris Tribe. Together, we are known as the adventuring party of the Rose’s Thorns.”

My oh my. So she’s a former court mage? Color me impressed.

“Could you grace us with your name, Master Druid?” she asked courteously.

I gotta be honest, I’m not used to being called with such respect. My boss just ordered me around back on Earth, and before him, it was my teachers who did.

Nevertheless… my name, huh?

How do I answer that?

I wouldn’t mind telling the truth, but one of the few things I picked up from the guy I plundered was the danger of revealing your true name. Apparently, a god he adored was sealed away because his name was revealed, or something along those lines.

Taking that into account, wouldn’t it be dangerous to use my name willy-nilly? I’m sure to have some powerful enemies out there, so I’d rather be paranoid than dead.

“I’m John Doe,” I replied, pulling the name out of my ass. A bit lame, as far as naming conventions go, but oh well. If I do get close with the girls, I can tell them my real name later.

“It is an honor to meet you, Master Doe,” Cerys’tavelle said with a bow. The two others, Amelia and Lupoxana, followed suit.

“Just John is fine,” I waved them off. “I’m a simple hermit, so I don’t do well with formalities. On that note, I’d like to apologize in advance, in case I say something rude.”

I don’t mean to be vulgar or disrespectful to them, but I have no idea about the social norms in this world. With a careless gesture or unfortunate wording, I could easily land myself in hot water.

“In that case, please call me Cerys,” the elf replied. “And I beg of you to save your apologies. You saved our lives, yet we committed a terrible slight against you. We can’t even begin to atone for our mistake.”

Yeah, blowing my arm off does count as a slight, even in my book.

“I’m so sorry...” said the catgirl, on the verge of tears, trying her damnedest to make herself smaller. She avoided eye contact like her life depended on it, her ears flattened to the side, her tail wrapped around her body.

Man, she looked so repentant, I had trouble feeling mad at her. It did hurt to hell and back when she shot me, but she didn’t deal permanent damage, and it does look like the event was an unfortunate accident.

“That’s not good enough, Xana,” said the silver-haired girl. She’s Amelia, I think. “Put your everything to it. I trust you realize the gravity of what you did.”

At Amelia’s words, Xana timidly walked over, and dropped down to her knees. Then, with her cheeks flushed red, she started undoing the straps on her leather armor.

Holy shit, is she gonna strip in here!?

No freaking way!

“Stop,” I asked, my heart pounding in my chest. “There’s no need.”

Xana looked up, hesitant.

“But I have to apologize…” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Very well,” I replied, my mind racing for a proper way to settle this. To be honest, seeing her naked would be a treat, but I don’t want to demean her like this. Ideally, I’d want to have a lasting friendship with them, but humiliating Xana would be a terrible way to start.

“If you insist,” I continued, “then allow me to do this.”

Without waiting for an answer, I placed my hand softly atop her head, and ruffled her hair and the back of her ears. Her blonde locks were smooth and nice to the touch, and her ears were as fluffy as cotton.

God, I could do this all day.

“Hnng…” escaped a soft moan from Xana’s lips.

It was so seductive it made me realize, did I screw up just now?

What if her ears are erogenous? Shit!

“Ah, pardon me!” I said in a panic, taking my hand off her.

“Hm?” asked Xana, her eyes dreamily gazing about.

“Was that uncomfortable?” I asked, wanting to punch myself.

“Oh, it wasn’t!” Xana replied, snapping back to her senses. Then she continued with a bright smile. “It’s just my ears are sensitive, so you caught me by surprise. I liked it, though.”

I smiled back at her, feeling relieved. It seems we’ve made peace after all.

“It’s great you could grow back your arm, Master John,” Amelia noted.

Xana’s spirits dampened like she’d been splashed with cold water.

“I’m sorry…” she said again, her ears drooping down. Also, her hands went right back to unfastening her armor.

“Whoa, wait!” I called, reaching out for her hand. “We’ve made amends already; that headpat was enough.”

“Really?” Xana asked, tilting her head in confusion. “But I haven’t shown you my belly yet. That’s how we showed submission, back in my tribe.”

Oh. It was only the belly.

No, no. I was not disappointed.

Get your head out of the gutter, or it’s the bonk stick for ya!

“It’s fine, don’t worry,” I assured her. “For all you knew, I could’ve been a wild bear back then. And my arm is alright, so I’m not angry. Let’s call it a bygone, okay?”

“Okay,” Xana replied, nodding bashfully before adding, “But if you really mean it, then pat my head again.”

Amelia glared daggers at her, and Cerys graced us with a meme-worthy facepalm, coming from the bottom of her heart.

But the catgirl was asking for love, so… who was I to argue?