"Oh, spitting spirits, my shoes!"

Orion pinched the bridge of his nose. The shriek from behind him came as high-pitched as a seagull's, piercing through the wind like a hedgehog’s quills.

He took a sip of coffee from his travel cup, wincing as he clumsily burned his tongue. "I told you to bring those boots."

"Ugh, those old things you offered me? I thought you'd lost a couple brined cow fetuses." Sapnettle hopped up next to him. She was tall and willowy, with shimmering blonde hair that swept down to her chest. Currently she wore a short green tabard and short dark green skirt. Matching her eyes and jangling jade earrings, they were clearly more for fashion than function, a bimbo’s idea of an adventuring outfit. A white hairband kept her wavy golden locks from blowing into her face. She pouted full pink-painted lips. "I may be helping a constable, but that doesn't mean I have to dress like a prison cell."

Orion’s eyes traveled downward. Sapnettle was wearing a pair of exceptionally pretty silver slippers embroidered with designs of twisting rose briars. Or rather, she was wearing one shoe, because the other dangled from her fingertips, absolutely caked in mud. The witch was balanced precariously upon one foot to protect her striped pastel blue stockings.

He looked her up and down, trying not to notice how her short skirt billowed high around her lifted leg. "We have to be moving, you know. There's no telling how far—"

"Yeah, yeah, I gotcha." She rolled her eyes. "Remember who you're talking to, okay?"

She raised the shoe to eye level and spoke a word of power.

Life surged into the shoe. Orion flinched back reflexively as it sprang from Sapnettle’s hand and to a nearby rock. It rubbed against the stone like a dog scratching an itch, scraping the mud away, then shook itself clean.

It bounded back to rest right next to its twin, and she beamed. "There's a good shoe! Now..." Still awkwardly balancing, she wove her fingers in a careful pattern, pursed her lips, and blew on her hands. Wisps of pink magic trailed from her fingertips and dripped down to settle around both shoes.

Orion watched as the deep mud around each of her slippers seemed to harden in seconds into dry, cracked clay. He folded his arms, waiting.

The witch smirked, slid the slipper on, and finally returned to standing on both feet. "Never underestimate a witch, Orion."

She made to take a step and fell flat on her face.

Unbeknownst to Sapnettle, her left foot had sunk quite deep into the mud while she’d been putting all her weight on it. Now the mud was as solid as fired clay.

Orion rolled his eyes. “Was it worth it?” he asked, as he reached down and pulled the witch up.

Sapnettle’s eyes blazed. Spells dribbled from her mouth, rapidly cleaning the mud from her face, hair and outfit. "I hate traveling in the mud! Why couldn't we take a carriage? The thief will be on foot; we’d be at an advantage!”

"Being on foot makes it easier to go off-road." Orion started walking again, and Sapnettle followed, the mud now drying out before her slippers touched it and softening the second her slippers left it. "Besides, a coach would’ve been too expensive."

Sapnettle stuck her tongue out. "We’d probably have caught her by now. She can't have made it to Amberbury with how heavy it is. Not in that storm."

Orion felt irritation creeping into his voice like lichen through cracks in pavement. "You also didn't think anyone would be able to steal it to begin with.”

"They couldn't have! I mean, she did, but she shouldn't have been able to! I don't know how some petty thief possibly could have known all the safeguards."

"Burglar. And, well, of course not. You've never dealt with Celia Stonethrow." He kicked a loose glowpebble that had found its way back to the surface. "From what I hear, the Council of Constables has been trying to catch her for years. She’s good at finding out what she shouldn’t." He scowled down at the mud. "She's never stolen anything like this before, though."

A new voice rose over the whistling winds. "Anything like what?"

Orion jumped and spun around.

He wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting to encounter on these muddy hills.

He was positive it hadn’t been a bunnygirl in a leotard.

The pretty noirette had run right up in front of them, her bright, striking hazel eyes shining beneath thick, dark lashes. Pink-and-white bunny ears and a fluffy white cottontail matched the pretty lace parasol twirling over her head. Her eyes glimmered like forest glades in autumn. Her lips glistened as red as the dawn.

The bunnygirl was also very… generously-endowed. Her chest bounced generously with the lingering momentum of her quick arrival, ample cleavage on full display and barely-contained by her form-fitting black leotard.

Orion was so startled, he didn’t even think to avert his gaze for a moment. At least, until the bunnygirl gave a dainty little cough. His head shot up, cheeks burning, and to cover his embarrassment, he turned and glared at Sapnettle.

"What?" Sapnettle rolled her eyes. "Do I have to warn you every time I see another traveler coming along? Maybe you should watch the road more instead of arguing with me, big guy."

"Aw, don't feel bad!" The bunnygirl giggled. "I can be super sneaky! And I didn't have to walk far to get to you."

"You..." Orion frowned, turning back to her but trying to keep his eyes off her… figure. "Wait, then where did you come from, good lady?"

"Lady!" She beamed. "Aw, that's sooo sweet. I came..." She twirled and pointed. "From under that hill! The Mapleseed is down there."

Orion followed her figure, and realized there was, indeed, a small porch and door carved into the hill, almost obscured from view by the tall briars growing between it and the path. Underground. Of course. Bunnygirl.

"Oh, thank the gods, is that an inn?" he heard Sapnettle ask.

He turned back to see the bunnygirl tilt her head cutely to the side. "Um, yeah, basically!” Her eyes caught Orion’s. “So what's your name, handsome?"

"My…” He cleared his throat, briefly flustered. “My name is Orion." He bowed. "And the witch’s name is Sapnettle."

"Ooh, those are such pretty names!" The bunnygirl licked her lips. "My name's Penny. It's so nice to meet you~"

"You too!" Sapnettle curtsied, smiling a little too broadly. Penny giggled.

Orion rolled his eyes. Witches were such utter sluts for any pretty face with a pair of…

He noticed just how nicely Penny's tits jiggled when she laughed, and his train of thought fell off the tracks for a moment.

"So what brings you out here?" Penny asked sweetly. Her eyes sparkled as they met Orion's, so soft and yet piercing, disarming.

"I.." Orion stared and licked his lips. "I, um... we're tracking a thief."

"A burglar," Sapnettle corrected.

"Yes." He flushed. "Have you seen a woman come through here? Silver hair, green poncho."

"Ooh." The eyes glimmered. "Is she your girlfriend?"

"W-What?" He shook his head, flustered by that musical note of amusement in her voice. "No, she—"

"Because if she is, gosh, she's a lucky girl~!"

"I...um." Orion licked his lips. He tore his eyes from Penny's and forced his gaze to focus on something over her shoulder. The parasol twirled, a natural alternative. "No. She's a th—a burglar. She took something very important from my town, and I've been sent to bring it back." He gestured to Sapnettle. "Sapnettle is our witch."

"I wouldn't normally help cops," Sapnettle said quickly. "It's just that this is a special case."

"You don't need to tell everyone we meet that.”

"Um, I definitely do. Witches have reputations to uphold, big guy. If my coven found out—"

"Your coven is not—"

"Aw, don't fight!" Penny’s voice cut in to silence the both of them. The bunnygirl gave a charming smile, twirling the parasol until the pink-and-white lace patterns formed a spiraling blur. "There's no need to. We checked that girl in last night!"

Orion blinked. The patterns of the umbrella were a little distracting, forcing his brain to struggle for a moment to parse what she’d just said. "I... really? We figured... we would have thought she would have made it at least a few miles more."

"It was raining." Pink and white swirled together like cake frosting. "She was cold, and wet." Penny's sweet voice complemented the pretty colors perfectly. Like sprinkles atop pink icing. "It's warm and dry inside." Her voice lowered to a slow, syrupy coo. "Cozy. Soft."

The patterns swirled. Orion swallowed.

Of course it had to be a bunnygirl.

Bunnygirls were a... a bit of a weakness of his. A fantasy of his. He'd never... he was an honorable man, not the kind who saw a lot of... who sought out a lot of... company.

But now she was right here, right in his face, smiling at him with those bewitching eyes, her bosom practically squished up against him as leaned in…

"Thank goodness," he heard Sapnettle mutter, and he realized dimly she was already walking down the side path toward the porch.

"I… I, um…" Orion blinked rapidly, trying to clear his head a bit. He wanted to follow, or to tell Sapnettle to slow down, but the parasol was... so pretty...

... had Penny always been this close?

Close enough for him to smell her thick perfume?

It smelled. Nice. Floral. Like sweetpeas.

"You're welcome to come in and look around," she said breathily, smiling up at him. The parasol stopped twirling, but now his eyes were on hers again, and they weren't letting him go. The sudden halt to the parasol had him feeling even dizzier. "Would you like that? You must be..." She reached forward and caressed his cheek with a silken-gloved hand. "... tired~"

Tired. Orion found his head lolling into the touch...

"Hey, Orion!" Sapnettle called. "Are you gonna spend this whole arrest flirting with the civilians, or are you gonna come help me catch this burglar?"

Orion jerked away, and his world cleared a little bit. Penny was suddenly once again out of reach, a big, innocent smile on her pretty, angelic face. Had he imagined her being that close?

"C-Coming!" he choked out, and stumbled after. His cheeks were burning.

He was too flustered to take much note of the stubby little briar hedge lining the path. He only dimly registered how it almost seemed like the hedge had grown higher than it had been a minute ago.

He didn’t register at all, as he reached the entrance, that the hedge had grown high enough to almost completely obscure the path from sight. It was out of the corner of his eye, and he was too busy trying not to fixate on Penny’s pretty face.

In fact, he was so busy trying not to look at her, he barely noticed the sly, predatory smirk that slid across her face just as he turned away. And surely that was just his overactive imagination.

Wasn’t it?