You are [Anon], Wood Elf of the of the eastern woods in Yorkensham’s kingdom. With hair as green as the purest leaf in the woods, eyes the same color as an acorn, and skin as tan as a quarterstaff, you were quite the looker!
Recently, you’ve completed your training as a ranger; and are looking to put those skills to the test against whatever would be poacher or rabid beast dared to make trouble in your assigned post.
You just wished you didn’t have to wear such form fitting leggings, especially thanks to their bad habit of riding up the crack of your rear end. Sighing, you naturally reach a hand back, your fingers gripping onto the seat of your pants and gingerly yet discreetly pluck them out from ‘tween your buttocks.
So far, everything was fairly normal; or at least, in your opinion anyway.
Your elven ears were able to pick up the typical song of swallows, the reek-a-cheek of a squirrel, and even the occasional buzz of a busy bee hovering from flower to flower in order to pollinate. Certainly out of the ordinary, as far as you can tell.
Besides, there’s no way anybody could sneak up on an elf. You were incredibly confident on that. Elves were a noble, fair, and wise race and the idea of anybody sneaking up on you was utterly laughable.
Which mean that predictably you failed to noticed a pair of hands suddenly shove down your leggings!
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