Inviting Insect Inferno

//triggers randomly a couple days (a week?) after hikkiquest at 17:00-22:00
As you step into the cave, you can't help but notice how cold and dark it is in here. It's not uninhabitable by any means, and you've been here plenty of times before, but something about this time leaves you somewhat uncomfortable.

You're no less unsettled when you suddenly become aware of the two purple fires burning a hole in the side of your head. You greet Sylvia.

[say:Hello, dear. Are you cold? You look positively frozen...] While it's certainly a bit chilly, [if (furfucker) {your [skindesc] keeps you warm enough|that's definitely an exaggeration}], but it doesn't seem worthwhile to bother correcting her. [say:I know just what to do. We should build a fire, in front of the cave. Doesn't that sound nice? Our own little blaze out in the dark...]

She smiles expectantly. Do you want to build a campfire?

[Yes] [No]


[No]
You tell her you're not in the mood for something like that, and though you can see something in her eyes wilt a bit, her smile doesn't waver.

[say:Oh, that's fine, [name]. I just thought... Nothing, never mind. Please, come in.]
//Sylvia's menu


[Yes]
You tell the moth-girl that you'd be more than happy to join her for what sounds like quite the warm occasion. She responds by widening her smile and rushing over to you, burying herself in your arms. The feeling of her soft hair nuzzling into your neck is quite soothing, [if (tallness < 54) {though it's a bit embarrassing how she has to get on her knees to do it|and you almost forget yourself for a moment}].

Eventually, she pulls back a bit. [say:Oh, I have another idea. It would take some preparation... I hope you don't mind the wait,] she says, staring off into the distance for a few moments. [say:In the meantime, could you ask Dolores? Oh, and we would need some firewood, if you don't mind.]

You tell her that you'd be happy to take care of that, but before you can ask what this plan of hers is, she's away, swooping off into the bog, leaving you with only her lingering aroma. Well, there's nothing else but to head into the back hallway.

You're not entirely sure that this is something Dolores would be into, so it's with a small amount of trepidation that you approach her door and knock. You hear a chair scrape and a few soft pads leading up to the entrance, the door then creaking open. [say:Yes?] comes a melancholic voice from within.

That might not be very encouraging, but you give your pitch anyway, explaining how you and her [if (isfeminine) {other }]mother were going to build a campfire, and how you'd love for her to join you. As you make the offer, her downcast expression brightens in a heartbeat.

[say:Oh, I would love to,] she responds with surprising sincerity. [say:Reading by firelight, with the moon in the sky above, that all sounds wonderfully romantic!] You're not certain that you'll be able to see the night sky through the thick canopy, but you don't want to dampen her mood, so you simply tell her that you're making preparations, and that you'll be meeting at the cave mouth when everything's ready.

[say:Alright. I believe I might be able to help out somewhat. I'll gather some things together and await you at the spot.] She gives a prim nod and then pauses a moment. [say:[if (oyakodon) {If this is some elaborate setup for something weird, I'll be very cross.|I don't actually know what you're supposed to do for these...}]]

You reassure her until she looks peppy enough again, and then turn back towards the exit. It's time to gather wood and kindling, though you're not sure of the quality of the timber you'll find in this place. Still, there's nothing else but to do it, so you [walk] out into the darkening bog.

[Next] //+fatigue, 20 minutes

Your limbs have started to ache a bit, and you're even more sick of the bog's burdensome atmosphere than you were just a short time ago, but you've managed to collect enough firewood for a reasonably sized bonfire. [if (str > 70 || tallness > 78) {You're able to get it all back in one trip, and|It takes a few trips to get it all back, but}] once everything's done, you take a moment to relax.

[say:Hello, [Father].]

The voice nearly makes you jump, but the sight of your daughter's tentative smile quickly calms you down.

[say:I've gathered a few things...] Her right hands gesture vaguely behind her, where you see that a small, mostly dry patch of ground has been cleared out, with a few rugs laid out around a shallow pit. There are a few folded blankets spread around, and you see what seems to be a pail of water off to the side. All in all, quite well-planned, as you relate to her.

[say:Yes, and this incense[if (oyakodon) {—no, no 't'—| }]should keep the bugs at bay,] she says, holding up a thin, fragrant stick. [say:Or, ah, the ones you want to. I'm certain that you'll have at least one all over you.]

As if summoned by incantation, Sylvia flits over with hardly a sound, looking a bit out of breath. You swiftly notice that two of her arms remain suspiciously behind her back, but she starts talking before you have the opportunity to ask.

[say:Oh, my, that took longer than I had hoped. Sorry for leaving you with the burden, but I [i:was] able to find everything I needed...] She [if (dom < 50) {looks a bit uncertain, so you gently|gives you a wry grin, and you dutifully}] ask her what she's prepared. The moth then proudly whips out a covered, woven basket and holds it up; a faint sweet smell emanates from within, piquing your curiosity.

[say:When I was a little girl, my mother took me out into the swamp and showed me a special kind of flowering plant. You can grind up the roots and, after adding a few other things, make]—she flips open the lid—[say:these.] Inside the basket is a small collection of irregularly shaped, oblong blobs—marshmallows, you realize. They look as white and fluffy as clouds, and you're quite eager to try one out.

[say:Oh, but those will have to wait until the fire's ready. I see you've brought the wood... and I see what a wonderful job [i:you've] done,] she says, cupping the smaller moth's cheek and making her blush. [say:Now we just have to light the fire—]

[say:Oh, oh, let me, Mother!] Immediately after cutting in, Dolores seems to blanch a bit. [say:That is, if you wouldn't mind, I would love to, ah, demonstrate some of what I learned. Please.]

No one has any objections, so with an almost giddy level of excitement, your daughter gets to work stacking the wood you gathered and adding a small amount of brush to the base. With a short incantation and a wave of her hands, a flame flares up to an astonishing height before going back down to a more manageable level.

[say:That should be everything sorted,] the dusky moth says. [say:Please, avail yourself of a blanket.]

It's a fine suggestion, and you do so, [if (singleleg) {lowering yourself|sitting}] down next to Syvlia with a quilt big enough to wrap the two of you in. The first thing you do is warm your hands by the fire, and your partner does the same, though Dolores elects to pick up a book, surprising no one.

The three of you quickly settle in around the firepit, an amiable mood prevailing. All that remains is how you'll spend your night with the moths.

//Each option grays out as you do it. Note that I know she wouldn't be able to make modern marshmallows, but work with me here.
[Marshmallows] [Reading] [Cuddle] [Stealth Service] [Done]
//If you can think of something else, I'd probably write it.


[Marshmallows] //tooltip: Partake of those treats she made.
You're quite interested in the gooey white morsels Sylvia whipped up, so you tell her that you'd like to try one. This request is greeted with a smile, and the moth-girl peels off you just enough to rummage around behind her, quickly producing the little basket.

[say:Of course, take as many as you like.] However, when you reach out for one, she suddenly jerks the basket back. [say:Oh,] she says, holding up a hand, [say:but there's a proper way to do it. First, we need to find a stick. Make sure it's long and thin enough to hold comfortably.]

You were just out hunting for wood, and you're not sure you want to get back to it so soon, but the moth-girl just giggles.

[say:There's a branch right there, by the edge of the treeline. Just a moment, dear,] she says, untangling herself from you and rising up. A quick gust of her wings has her there and back again before you can start to feel any colder, and you can't help but be curious at the two sticks in her hand. What exactly is it that you're meant to do?

[say:You spear one on the end and then hold it over the fire. Here, I'll show you.] She does as she said. [say:The trick is to heat them evenly, and not to hold them too close. Oh, this really does bring back childhood memories. If you do it right, you should get a nice, even, light brown coating... Ah, just like this.] She pulls her skewer back and shows you the prize on the end—it looks positively scrumptious, and you don't hesitate in following her example. Dolores briefly glances over at the proceedings, but soon buries her nose back in her book as you take the time to do things properly.

After you feel you've cooked it enough, you start to bring the treat in for a taste. [say:Careful, it will be hot!] Sylvia warns, a bit of oddly genuine concern in her eyes. Duly noting this, you raise the glob up to your mouth and blow on it, using the opportunity to take in the scent. It's expectedly sweet, though you can definitely feel the heat radiating off of it, so you give it a few quick blows before bringing it to your lips.

The very outer surface is somewhat crispy, but exceptionally thin, and as soon as you properly bite into it, gooey warmth flows into your mouth. It almost scalds you, but tastes too good for you to care, briefly stunned by the sweetness. The treat is at once light, fluffy, and sticky, making for an eating experience not quite like any other you've had. It's certainly worth the effort you put into making it, and you're grateful that something like this was passed down through her family.

You realize that your eyes have closed, and upon once again gaining awareness, you see Sylvia offering her daughter the result of her own roasting. Dolores looks a bit uncertain, but takes a bite when pressed, her eyes briefly flickering with joy before she says, [say:I suppose it has its merits, but really, that stick is almost certainly filthy.]

The older moth simply giggles and finishes off the rest on her own, murring quietly at the taste. The sight is almost sweeter than the confection itself, but when she offers you the basket again, you certainly don't decline another. The two of you continue toasting the marshmallows until the basket runs out, sharing moments of delight over the crackling fire.
//+satiety


[Reading] //tooltip: Ask Dolores what she's reading.
Dolores is being fairly quiet, but you can tell by the smile on her face that she's enjoying herself at least. Still, you'd like to involve her a bit more, seeing as this is a family outing, so you call her attention and ask about her book.

[say:Ah, my...?] she asks, looking almost surprised that you care. [say:Oh, yes, um, right. Well, it's just a bit of verse. Old stuff, you wouldn't...] Her lips continue moving for a few moments, but no sound comes out, and her eyes gaze off into the distance. [say:Would you w-want to hear some?]

You respond affirmatively, and Sylvia gives a warm nod. This seems to bolster her confidence enough for her to proceed, and she takes a deep breath before beginning.

//All in dialogue
A blowing breeze now stirs the leaves,
And all the forest stands in silence.
The warmly fading light relieves
The world of all its weary violence.

A sinking sun then breathes its last,
And finally the heavens soften.
The firmament emerges, vast,
And grants the sight I seek so often:

The bright and lofty stars above,
Enrapturing my humble vision,
And that which earns my endless love,
Those wide, black swaths of sky elysian.

When she finishes, all is quiet for a moment, as if the whole world were also lying still in the wake of her words. However, it only lasts a second before the spell is broken when Sylvia gives her a small round of applause. The younger moth smiles and looks to the side, her hands fiddling with the lower part of her dress, but she doesn't seem to freeze up as much as she used to.

[say:Yes, thank you, truly. Recent events have made me realize that I have focused perhaps too much on prose.] Her brow scrunches up as she looks to the side. [say:There's a lot more out there, and... and it can be quite a delight how some choose their words.]

You tell her your own thoughts on the poem, and the two of you talk for a short time before the conversation comes to a comforting, natural close. For a time afterwards, you simply stare off into the still bog and think of nothing.


[Cuddle] //tooltip: Snuggle up and enjoy the moth's company.
It really is cold out here at night, but between the fire, the blanket, and the moth, you're in the lap of luxury. This is something that you really should savor, an opportunity you can't let go to waste. You should take this time to appreciate the fact that you even have someone to share your evening with.

Sylvia is of one mind, cooing gently when you cuddle up closer and shifting her arms around to assist. Her chitin is always a bit chilling, but her fantastically comfy fluff more than makes up for it, and you can't help but let out a sigh. It feels like you could close off the entire rest of the world and not lose a thing.

It's so nice, in fact, that you don't even notice your eyes slipping shut. A warm, calming scent overtakes you, and you let it, wanting nothing else, thinking of nothing else. Those [if (dom < 50) {tender|strong}], soothing arms grip tighter, giving you a security that makes your shoulders slump. You squeeze back.

A soft murr sounds in your ear, and the tickling sensation makes you snap to. You once again become aware of a bit more—the plush fabric of the blanket wrapped around you, the gentle crackling of the fire, and most of all, the heavenly heat you're enveloped in. It's a lovely scene, but for all its merits, you preferred that peaceful oblivion, so you pull the moth tight and return to it.

All of your earlier discomfort has been banished, and you can't imagine a place more soothing. You have no idea how long you stay like this; all you know is that you wish it could be forever.


[Stealth Service] //tooltip: Receive some covert affection from Sylvia.
With how close you are to the moth, you're starting to feel a bit hot, and the glances she keeps shooting you aren't helping any. You can tell that she wants it just as bad as you, but [if (cor < 30) {your modesty keeps you in check for the moment|you're not confident that this is the most opportune moment}]. Your lust is almost palpable, but your daughter is right next to you, and this evening wasn't exactly meant for that.

But it seems like Sylvia understands everything. Her smile is at once warm and impish, and you almost [if (cor < 30) {blanch|melt}] at the implication on her face. It's clear what she wants to do, and in your state, you feel the exact same, but you're not exactly sure what her plans are.

The answer to your uncertainty comes in the form of a probing hand shifting about under the covers. The thick blankets provided by your daughter are fairly concealing, so this slight motion doesn't cause the fabric to stir too visibly, but you still shiver unbidden when her fingers find their way to your [skindesc]. You look over at Dolores, but she hasn't noticed anything, her eyes still buried in her book. The serene expression on her face only amplifies the sensation you're experiencing below, and you almost let out a sound that would spoil the whole night.

And Sylvia seems intent on going further. Her devious fingers worm their way [if (isnaked) {downwards|into your [armor]}] and [if (isnaga) {towards your nethers|between your thighs}], making you squirm with need. It's with shocking indiscretion that she first brushes against your [cockorvag], but this lasts only a moment, and the second her touch retreats, you can't think of anything but how much you want it to return.

The moth-girl is quite accommodating, however, and she's happy to demonstrate just how well she knows your body by now, her touch graciously returning. That cool chitin is so slick against your [skin.noadj], doing absolutely wondrous things to you as you try your best not to buck your hips into her hand. A second one comes to rest on your stomach, at once calming you and exciting you with the additional contact.

With so much stimulation, your [if (hascock) {cock is already [if (cumhighleast) {drooling|leaking}] precum|folds are already [if (vaginalwetness > 2) {positively dripping with moisture|growing damp}]}], and the moth-girl quickly takes advantage of this, swiping up some of your lubrication to squish between her fingers. When they finally rejoin you, the additional wetness is divine, and you feel the tension leave your body as you [if (sylviadom < 50) {enjoy|submit to}] her ministrations.

The sound of a light murmur from your daughter startles you out of your reverie. It's not clear at all how Dolores would react to discovering this tryst, and you're just considering how to proceed when a light, silky voice causes [if (cor < 50) {ice|fire}] to rush to your face.

[say:Are you cold, sweetie?] your lover asks.

The younger moth looks up at the sound, but Sylvia continues stroking you with a deadly steadiness. [if (hascock) {Your [cock] is completely encircled by her lithe fingers|Her fingers tenderly play around your entrance}], and though she keeps her touch light, there's a persistence there that drives you wild. It's so invigorating that you're almost able to forget for a moment the situation you're in.

[say:No, Mother, but thank you. The fire is actually surprisingly pleasant, even. In fact, it's [him]]—she gestures in your direction—[say:who seems to be shivering a bit. Are you alright?] Your daughter gives you a look of mild concern, and a swirl of emotions hits you.

It's just then that Sylvia chooses to [if (sylviadom < 50) {gently|insistently}] increase her pace, [if (sylviadom < 50) {servicing you as best she can|teasing you mercilessly}], clearly now trying to get you off directly. The sudden shift in intent is almost too much, but you manage to [if (sylviadom < 50) {give her|mumble out}] a sufficient excuse, and the dusky moth turns back to her book. You'd breathe a sigh of relief, but just breathing is enough of an exercise at the moment.

And still the moth presses you further. Her first hand [if (hascock) {tightens its grasp|slips deeper}] while a second joins it, resting gingerly on your [if (hascock) {[cockhead]|[clit]}]. You have only a moment to take it in before she starts moving, slowly but firmly massaging your most sensitive spot. The moisture from earlier allows her to go at an incredible pace, leaving you completely defenseless against her dual assault. A sound dies deep in your throat, and you can scarcely hold on.

[say:I love you,] Sylvia purrs from right beside you, and that's enough.

You shudder as you let go, the overwhelming pleasure in your core banishing any thought of modesty or restraint. Your [if (hascock) {cum [if (cumhighleast) {absolutely drenches|splatters against}]|juices [if (issquirter) {spray|[if (vaginalwetness > 2) {splatter against|leak out onto}] the blanket. You're certain that you're making a mess, but you're even more certain that you don't care as you ride out the orgasm, your [if (hascock) {[if (hasballs) {balls|shaft}] twitching|clit throbbing}] as everything pulses through you.

And the entire time, Sylvia whispers soft encouragement in your [ear], her lips brushing your [skinshort] and her breath tickling your scalp. Her heat blends with yours, and you feel like you've melted into the blanket, becoming wholly one with your moth lover. There's nothing but her cloudy caresses, nothing but the sweet scent in your nostrils, and you need nothing more.

At length, you once again become aware of all the potential problems you might soon face, but after only a moment's consideration, you let all that slide away, and instead snuggle closer to the moth. You can tell by the vivid look in her eyes that this was stimulating for her as well, and it's quite nice to bask in the afterglow with her. For her part, Dolores reads on as if nothing happened at all, while the fire flickers on in the night.


[Done] //tooltip: It's getting late, time to pack up.
The fire is starting to dwindle, and you can already see the signs of sleepiness in your dear moths, so you think it's about time to wrap things up. Still, it seems like such a shame to end a night like this, so you let it linger a bit longer.

In the end, it's Sylvia who makes the move, shuffling to a more upright position and saying, [say:Oh, I]—a yawn overtakes her—[say:mmm... It seems to be about that time... Dolores, dear, time for bed.]

You look over at your daughter, but she appears to still be engrossed in her book. In fact, she seems so wrapped up that she doesn't even acknowledge her mother's instruction. That's a bit unusual, even for her. What could be so interesting that she's completely shut the rest of the world off?

You're answered by a sudden snore as the little moth starts to list to one side. This seems to strike Sylvia as particularly amusing, and it's a short while before she's composed enough to continue talking.

[say:I'll take her to bed. I suppose it was fairly eventful, even if we did just stay in one place. But it really was a lovely evening, [name].] The moth-girl nuzzles into you slightly. [say:I can't think of many better.] With that, she disentangles from you and arises, gently padding over to your slumbering daughter. With incredible care, Sylvia picks her up and cradles her, the perfect picture of a doting mother.

[say:Oh, would you mind putting the fire out before you go?]

You agree, and she graces you with one last smile before she retires to the cave. You extinguish the campfire and set off, though a distinctive feeling of warmth lingers in your chest far longer than it has any right to.