Sorhafe paced anxiously between the bubbling pools of faintly backlit burbling water. A part of her felt like this had to be a trick, some catch twenty two that she couldn’t walk back from. Like no matter what she tried there was a chance it would hideously warp her mind or body in some kind of horrific monkey’s paw scenario.
Nonetheless, she saw no out, no apparent way out of the cave she’d been dropped in. Except, that was, from above. As the elf turned her gaze upward, she spied a gap in the ceiling of the roof, just wide enough for a person her stature to slip through. Only the problem was it sat a good fifteen feet up. So close and yet so far, she thought.
Looking onward she sized the gap up with her enhanced elven powers of perception. With the taught muscles of her lithe her athletic form, she judged she *could* have climbed and clambered up the rough cave wall to get there, but then she gazed down, noting how the gap perched precariously above the “Spring of the Cow” pit. A deliberate placing, she presumed.
The implications of what that pool might do to her didn’t appeal to her much, but glancing to her side, her gaze fixed again on another pool. The Spring of Wings.
“Looks like up is the only way out. Maybe going up will get me back to the surface too… assuming this place even has a surface you can make reach.” She mumbled to herself, still adjusting to the soft voice that came from her throat.
“What the hell? In for a penny in for a pound.” She sighed and walked over to the spring. Looking down at her reflection in the water, she squeezed her eyes shut briefly before cupping her hand and bringing a handful of the cold water to her lips. Downing it in a quick sip, she shuddered as the frigid draught went down her throat, feeling a shiver go all the way down her spine.
Not even a moment after, the elf felt a dull, thudding pain come from her shoulder blades. She began to curse her own hastiness as her tightly bound and form fitting leather top began to suffocate from added mass swelling up behind her. The elf’s nimble digits fumbled with the unfamiliar collection of straps and buckles keeping the chest piece in place, all in the name of getting some relief for the new appendages trying to burst through the cured hide and fabric.
At last, she sighed with gratitude at being able to comfortably breathe again, as the leather cuirass fell to the floor. On the other hand, this development did also reveal her sizably round and perky chest, dark nipples standing tall and alert atop mounds of rich caramel flesh in the open air. Sorhafe fell to her knees, gritting her teeth as the pain in her shoulders amplified, until finally two foreign nodules of growth burst forth. What started as unsightly, lumpy masses of indistinct, almost claylike material molded into defined structure. Large, delicate yet flexible wing structures with light bones unfurled themselves, their span nearly double her arm length. She watched with some amazement as feathers sprouted from the naked frames, bedecking them with a coat of cream, white, and dappled brown and black colored bird wings.
Slowly, Sorhafe beat those wings with a clumsy rhythm, finding that they lifted her body off the ground with startling ease. She couldn’t help but smile a little at the wonder of it all. Who didn’t dream of flying with their own power after all?
The newly winged elf looked up at the hole above her, considering her choices. She’d just gained the power of flight, but sacrificed her armor, and evidently her modesty to get it, at least for now. At the same time, she felt the cool air brush her stiff nipples, reminding herself about just how sensitive to the touch this body was, and how tempted she was to explore the extent of that receptiveness to pleasure.