“Damn fae!” Alma spat, cocking her rifle and aiming it at Hwalín. “You can’t fool me!”

“Alma?” Hwalín had both her hands raised. “What in the bloody berylands?!”

"Don't Alma me you little turd.” Her brow glistened with sweat. “I'm not like normal humans. I can see your true face as clear as day."

True to her word, from Alma's perspective, thanks to her enhanced visual acuity, the face of the elfwin across from her was juxtaposed atop a much more clearer visage. A slick face formed from bulbous, black eyes with slit-shaped sideways pupils that seemed to absorb no light. Below that, where a nose would normally be, was a flat surface occupied by two large, sunken nostrils. A row of tiny, sharp teeth contorted into a mischievous smile.

Alma wasn't too sure when exactly the switch had happened, as she was focusing most of her attention on following the river down to where she suspected her friend might have gone. It wasn't until she noticed that Qu'l-Nia had disappeared that she had turned to question Hwalín and saw one of the devilish forest faeries in her place. The forest faeries, or neraides as they are commonly known, inhabited the older parts of the forest, where darkness looms. The abundance of large, ancient trees helped in blocking out the sun, allowing them to set traps of light patches that capture lost travelers who try to use the light to shine their way.

“That’s quite unfortunate,” hissed the fake Hwalín. The voice that came out had drastically changed tone. “We could’ve used another cutie like you.”

"Ain't no way I'm letting you sluts use my face to lure in men to your dumb forest." The notion made her groan. It's not like she would be getting any of that action anyway. She shoved the gross thought aside. "Now tell me where my friends are or I put a bullet through that freaky face of yours."

The faerie frowned.

Alma forced a reluctant smirk. "Geez, no wonder you have to borrow ours. That's a face only a smother could solve."

Growling in anger, the fake Hwalín sprouted a pair of glittering, translucent wings that began vibrating to the extreme. Reaching for the stolen swords she had taken from the original, the neraide charged at Alma before almost immediately exploding in a pink puff of smoke—the illusion shattered by a bullet from Alma's rifle as it bore through her form.

Alma immediately reached her arm into the pile of stolen clothes and pulled out a small, furry being with wings. It had the same weird face as before, but with long, drooping ears and a tiny nude body covered entirely in blue fuzz.

"Put me down! Put me down!" it cried annoyingly.

"Heh. You guys are a lot cuter in this form." Alma was holding it by the scruff of its neck, like a small animal. "Where. Are. They?"

The tiny faerie hissed in an act of defiance. She had failed her mission spectacularly, not expecting to run into a freak of nature out here in the wilderness. She covered her mouth with her tiny hands.

"That how you wanna play it?" She knelt down and held the flailing faerie above the rushing water of the river. Dunking her underneath for a few seconds, she repeated her question. "Where are they? I'm sure Hwalín will appreciate her clothes back before pinning you to a tree with one of her blades. But I might be able to convince her otherwise if you make this quicker for me."

The neraide screamed as she was dunked once again, shivering from the unsolicited dousing. "Okay! Okay! I'll tell you! I'll tell you! Just stop torturing me!"

Alma crossed the river, following the neraide's directions to a hidden area full of enormous, tubular plants.

"What is this place?"

"Place to drop off the trash once we're done with it."

Alma pondered for a moment before shaking the faerie in her hand angrily.

"You little punk! Next time I'll sic Heloise on you!"

The small neraide agonized at the sound of that name. Alma remembered Heloise telling her a method of knocking them out relatively safely by flicking their little heads repeatedly.

Afterwards, Alma took one of Hwalín's blades and began cutting swaths off the large plant that seemed to contain something big at its core. Cutting through to the center revealed at once the slime covered body of her partner, her umber skin now peppered in light burns along with old scars, unconscious and in a state of undress. Grabbing hold of her shoulder, she frenziedly shook her awake.

"Hmm? Wha—?" Hwalín mumbled groggily as her eyes traced her surroundings. "What the bloody fuck?! Alma?! Where—? My clothes!"

"T-They're right here." Alma looked away embarrassingly as she spoke. "Please get dressed. Your clothes are right here. I'll explain after."

"Yuck. What's this slime? I can't get sodding dressed like this! Ow! This stuff burns?!" The elfwin, still completely naked, scrambled off towards the river.

"Wait…" Alma looked around hesitantly, the giant plants surrounding the area were humming vibrantly. The strange flora was alien to her and it reminded her that her world had its own sprinkle of weirdness. But there was a more familiar weirdness that was strangely missing at the moment.

"Q?" Alma wandered around the area, trying hard not to get too close to the exotic maneaters. She admits to herself that they're nothing but dumb, oversized plants and even though she had just cut one to ribbons moments before to save Hwalín, she wasn't going to act completely reckless. She inspected them as well as she could, looking for her other partner's possible silhouette, but found no sign of her. Trotting back toward the river, she found a still nude Hwalín—half-submerged in the flowing water—washing off the devouring plant's digestive gunk. Still averting her gaze, Alma questioned the elfwin about Qu'l-Nia's possible whereabouts.

"Haven't seen Nia since I conked out." Hwalín was leering at the burns on her skin. "Reckon she's off exploring more of the woods. Doubt those pests could get the jump on her. Not that I know how they got me."

"Those were neraides. Pesky little vermin that sting you with their pointy tails and use their weird little magic to take on your appearance to lure in some breeding partners. Lucky we aren't dudes since they tend to use force if they don't get their way."

Hwalín chuckled. "Doubt any guy would say no to that, Alm."

"Ew…"

"Hey, hand me my shorts wouldja?"

“Here.” Alma, eyes glued to the forest, leaned in the direction of her voice.

“Least they weren’t fleshgaits. Those things’ll straight up wear your skin,” she continued, shuddering as the random thought frightened her the moment it escaped her lips, but Alma felt more comfortable talking about monsters over lewd things. "L-Let's go find Qu'l-Nia…"

"How'd you know it wasn't really me out there?" Hwalín wondered after getting semi-dressed.

"I could see through her illusion. Which is weird, because I couldn't do that before. Me and Heli have run into them before, and their magic is usually perfect. My… ability's been acting up ever since I ran into you two. It's changed somehow. More intense. Bigger headache..."

"Ain't that something. Perhaps maybe you could use it to track down Nia somehow."

"Kill me if I ever start seeing glowing footprints anywhere."