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Two hours later, Devin pulled the wagon to a stop next to a rotted log. Azalea was still snoozing on his lap and drooling. She had uncurled from a fetal position and into a tangle of blanket and limbs sprawled every which way. Devin chuckled. He estimated the accumulated time he had seen her naked now exceeded that for her clothed state. Untangling her limbs from the blanket, he took a peek at her crest, noting the energy gauge had filled up just slightly since she fell asleep.
“I wonder if it naturally increases over time. I’ll have to ask her about it later,” Devin thought.
Looking ahead and then back along the highway to make sure no one was within sight, he disengaged the wagon from the road and headed through a gap in the trees. The wooded region of The United Dominion of Lindone, usually called the Northern Kingdom – shorter and easier to remember – was an ancient sprawl of verdant old-growth trees, tall and weathered. They were pillars of defiance against the heavy snows and encroachment of civilization.
Their progress off-road was slow. The thick underbrush didn’t willingly invite guests, impeding every turn of the wheel. Devin was no bushmaster, but experience and a bit of trial and error had taught him enough to navigate to his hidden camp.
Nearing a stone outcropping, Devin flicked the reins, directing a sharp right turn into a cozy glade nestled against three monstrous boulders. There, he parked the wagon and then gently moved the still-splayed-out fairy onto the box seat. Jumping down, he set to unhitch the old bay from the wagon and give her a good scratch under the chin. She looked at him with dewy eyes. He didn't need to tie her up because she wouldn't wander far, and she deserved some free-roaming to find the tastiest grasses. After yanking a bunch of leather bags and a medium-sized crate from the back, he deposited them near the firepit.
The campsite was precisely how he had left it. The rounded ring of rocks with a metal spit decorated the center of the glade. The pre-cut stack of firewood looked a little wet but would dry after a few hours near the fire.
Devin fished out his hammock. It was comfortable at any time of the year, especially in inclement weather. He tied the ends to two poles across the lee side of one of the three boulders. Throwing on a linen blanket, a thicker wool duvet, and the treated fur hide of some animal over the top completed his three-layer recipe for a good night's sleep.
Having rummaged around the edges of the camp for some dry kindling, he shaved detritus into a pile. With a few snappy strikes of flint on steel, he cozied a spark to life. With a gentle blow, a steady flame smoked and sputtered into existence. He fed it with the kindling shavings, bit by bit, until he had a healthy fire.
Next came the well-used cast-iron pot and its accouterments. He was thinking of a simple soup for dinner. He’d wait to add water since the stream was some distance away, and he didn’t want Azalea waking up and wondering where he disappeared. Scooped from where he left her, Azalea was cradled near his chest, and he relocated her to the bed.
Sitting back down, he busied himself peeling some potatoes.
Devin hoped Azalea would like it. She’d expressed interest in human food, but this was far from anything considered a delicacy. He didn't have much to fancy it up either. Specialty foods didn't last long. Any magical ways to preserve food, aside from salting and drying, were strictly reserved for keeping fresh those special wares he transported for commerce. Such luxuries he couldn’t afford for his own comfort. Thinking about how much he had saved up through his frugal habits, he figured he could splurge a little during the next town visit now that he had someone he wanted to spoil.
Starting on his second potato, he heard a ruffle next to him. A groggy fairy with a good dose of bed hair sat up and rubbed her eyes. He could almost see the wheels in her head start turning as her sleepy brain tried to make sense of this unfamiliar place. Her eyes finally drifted to his.
She yawned. “Good morning, life-mate.” When she stretched out her arms, her blanket fell away, allowing her breasts to wish Devin’s eyes a good morning too. “Where are we?”
He motioned with his hand and responded, “Far enough from the main highway where no passersby can see our camp.”
“It’s cozy.”
Standing up for a full-body stretch, Azalea noticed she suddenly had his undivided attention. Quickly hiding a mischievous smile, she slowly arched her back, arms above her head, puffing out her chest. “Stretching after waking up sure does feel good! Get’s the blood flowing,” she teased suggestively.
“Y..yes, it does,” He acknowledged, holding a half-peeled potato.
Azalea continued to stretch and bend in several more poses, each getting more provocative than the last. She enjoyed his eyes following her every movement. Feigning an innocent smile, she straightened up, took a second to calculate her balance, then lifted her leg high, so she was doing standing splits.
Devin’s eyes zeroed in on her pussy, enjoying how her lips parted ever so slightly.
She coyly remarked, “Since you're preparing the meal, I thought I'd provide the show.”
Catching on to her banter, he followed her lead. “This looks like a show worth watching. As an interested attendee, I must ask the price for admittance.”
“A simple meal will suffice,” she replied.
She glanced at the potatoes nearby. “But such a humble dish, I believe, would benefit with a thick… creamy… base to go with it. So I guess I’ll have to help a little with the meal preparation.”
Dropping her leg, she took up a dancing posture, raised her arms above her head, and took a deep breath. Her hips started swaying to a wordless song she began to hum. The tinkling bells of her voice matched the rhythm of her arms. As she warmed to the motions, her wings extended, bending the light into rainbows around her feet.
