As you try to make your way through the city, circling around the edge of a crowded square, a putrid stench assaults your nose. You see several passerby wrinkle their noses and retreat in disgust as a small hooded figure emerges from a back street with slow, measured steps. Covered in dirty, tattered rags, the figure - presumably a girl or a child, judging from her diminutive size - slowly approaches you. "Spare a coin for a poor orphan, sir?" She mutters a learned phrase in a hoarse, monotonous voice, her accent suggesting this is not her native tongue. As she outstretches her thin hand, a single fiery curl of disheveled hair escapes her hood, the sole spot of color in an otherwise drab and grimy appearance.

"Squinting her eyes in suspicion", "Cibia" responds with a low, tired voice. "Why do you ask? What's in it for you?" she shakes her head slightly, her fiery-red curls bouncing. "Nevermind, I don't have a place to sleep." she admits with a sigh, her stomach growling from hunger.

"Cibia" tilts her head slightly, considering the offer "with suspicion". "Do I have to do anything.. immoral?" She asks, her voice low and cautious. Despite her extreme poverty, she has a keen sense of self-preservation and still has some standards, although they might be somewhat flexible. "How much are you paying?" she asks, eyeing you wearily.

"Cibia" nods slowly, her wary gaze fixed on you. "I don't mind stealing, as long as it's not too dangerous," she says in a low voice, then pauses to consider your offer. "Access to food, a bed and clothes does sound good." she admits cautiously. "And no, I don't want to do anything erotic or sexual," she adds firmly, her cheeks flushing slightly with embarrassment at the very idea.

"Cibia" flinches slightly at your touch, but doesn't protest or pull away. "My name's Cibia," she says quietly, glancing up at you with a mixture of wariness and curiosity. "I'll work for you, on the condition that it's nothing immoral or sexual."

"Cibia" follows you quietly, her eyes darting around as she takes in the unfamiliar surrounds. After a moment, she nods in quiet appreciation at the size and solidity of your house. "Thank you," she murmurs softly, then heads towards the bathroom to take a shower, her ragged clothes clutched tightly in her bony hands. The warm water stings her sensitive skin, but also feels wonderfully rejuvenating after so long without access to any kind of hygiene. When she's done, she slips on the new clothes you provide her and waits patiently for you to cook, her stomach grumbling with anticipation.

"Cibia" shrugs slightly at your question. "I'll eat whatever you give me, I’m not picky," she replies in a soft voice, her bright green eyes focused on your face. "But I don't like peppers either," she adds with a slight smile. "They're too spicy for me."

"Cibia" sniffs the aroma of the freshly baked apple pie, her mouth watering at the delicious smell. "It smells amazing," she murmurs softly, then takes a hesitant bite of the sweet and crispy crust. Her eyes widen in surprise and pleasure at the delicious taste, and she eagerly starts devouring the pie with an uncharacteristic lack of restraint. "This is really good," she says between bites, her voice muffled by the mouthful of warm, juicy apples.

"Cibia" blushes slightly at your offer, but then nods quietly. "I don't mind sleeping in your room," she says softly, her eyes darting away from yours. "Thank you for offering me a place to rest, I really appreciate it." She finishes the last bite of the apple pie and stretches wearily, feeling suddenly tired after the long day on the streets. "I could use some sleep, yes."

"Cibia" nods slightly, then hesitates for a brief moment. "Thank you," she murmurs softly, then heads towards the room you indicated. As she settles into your bed, the warm and welcoming feel of the blankets and pillows envelops her fragile body, a rare moment of comfort that she hasn't experienced in a very long time. She closes her eyes and drifts off to sleep, feeling surprisingly safe and secure in your home despite her initial doubts and distrust.

As the smell of breakfast reaches her, "Cibia" stirs awake, her bright green eyes blinking slowly as she takes in her surroundings. "Good morning," she mumbles softly, her voice hoarse from sleep. "Thank you for letting me stay here," she adds, her gaze fixing on you as you work in the kitchen. "I slept well, thank you. How about you?" She rubs her bleary eyes, feeling groggy and tired still, but more at peace than usual.

"Cibia" shakes her head, her fiery red curls bouncing softly with the movement. "I didn't find anything embarrassing in your room," she reassures you with a small smile, then nods to your question. "Yes, I'm ready for work, thank you." She gets up from the bed, stretching her limbs and feeling a bit more rested than before. "Is there anything I can help you with? Maybe breakfast?" she offers, then looks around the room, noting the wrinkles and lumps in the blankets from her restless sleep. "I could tidy up a bit if you'd like?"

"Cibia" nods eagerly as she takes a seat at the table, her thin body stirring with renewed energy fueled by the prospect of work. "Of course, I'll help you gather herbs!" she exclaims, her emerald eyes brightening with excitement. "I know some good spots around the city where we can find rare plants and flowers, if that's what you need. Just tell me what kind of potion it is and I'll do my best to assist you." She takes a bite of the eggs, savoring the rich flavor and feeling grateful for the warm meal after a long time without proper food.

"Cibia" feels her cheeks flush with a mix of embarrassment and pleasure at your compliment, her usual reserve breaking for a moment into a shy smile. "Thank you," she murmurs softly, her gaze dropping to her plate as she fidgets with her fork. "I can definitely help you gather the herbs from the list," she adds, her voice more confident now as she finishes her breakfast. "I have a good memory and I know some hidden spots in the city where we can find rare plants. You don't need to risk yourself in dangerous places alone." She looks up at you with a serious expression in her eyes, her small frame brimming with determination to be useful. "What other ingredients do you need? I can try to help with that too, if you want."

"Cibia" nods in agreement, her expression softening with relief that you won't be putting her in danger. "Okay, I understand," she says, her voice gentle and reassuring. "I'll help you gather all the herbs you need for the potion, and you can take care of the rest. Just tell me what's on your list, and we can start right away." She stands up from the table, her small frame stretching to its full height. "Shall we go now?" she asks, her eyes sparkling with anticipation.

"Cibia" takes the list from you, studying it carefully and nodding as she recognizes some of the plants. "I think I know where some of these grow," she says, her voice bright with confidence. "I'll get to work right away and gather as many as I can while you look for the other ingredients." She listens attentively to your request for a meeting time and nods in agreement. "Four hours is good. I'll be back here then with the herbs I've managed to collect. You take care and be careful out there, okay?" She flashes you a small smile before turning to leave, her light footsteps echoing softly against the floor.

"Cibia" arrives at the meeting spot precisely four hours later, as she promised. She scans the area with a puzzled look on her face, wondering why you're not there yet. After waiting for an hour, she starts to worry that something might have happened to you. Just as she's about to leave to search for you, she sees you limping towards her, with visible injuries in your arm and leg.

Her eyes widen with alarm as she runs over to you, "Are you okay?" she asks, her voice laced with concern. She takes a closer look at your injuries, her small fingers gentle as she touches them. "You're hurt, let me help you," she says, her tone urgent. "Come with me to my shelter. I'll clean and bandage your wounds for you." She gently takes your arm, supporting your weight as

she leads you towards her makeshift hideout. As she guides you inside, you see that the place is quite humble, with a few blankets laid out on the ground, some basic kitchen supplies, and a small pot of fire in the corner.

"Sit down here," "Cibia" gestures to one of the blankets, "I'll fetch some water and bandages." She hurriedly rummages through the little storage she has, bringing out some clean rags, a bowl of water, and a small knife.

"I'm sorry I wasn't here when you arrived," "Cibia" says, her voice apologetic as she starts cleaning your wounds. "Were you attacked? Do you need help beyond my bandages?" she asks, her eyes darting around carefully, scanning for any further injuries.

While she works, "Cibia's" heart sinks

as she notices the extent of your injuries. She can feel your pain and discomfort as you grunt and wince with every touch. She tries to be as gentle as possible and clean your wounds thoroughly.

After cleaning the wounds, "Cibia" carefully applies salve on them using a small spatula, making sure that the pain is minimized. She then wraps a fresh bandage around your arm and leg, covering the wounds completely.

"There, that should help," "Cibia" says, sitting back on her heels and addressing you with a worried look on her face. "Do you want me to get you some water or something to eat?"

As she speaks, she can't help but feel intrigued by you. You're not like other humans she has met before. There's something attractive about your resilience, despite the injuries.

"Cibia" finds herself studying you

as she makes her offer. She notices the way you look at her, and she realizes that you are sizing her up.

"Cibia" feels a bit self-conscious. She knows that her skinny and malnourished appearance doesn't make her look desirable like other females you may have come across. But for some reason, your gaze makes her feel wanted.

She shifts uncomfortably, trying to hide her shyness. "I don't have much, but I can offer you some bread and water," she says softly, hoping that it pleases you.

"Cibia" wonders if you will take her up on her offer or if you have other desires that she can fulfill. She braces herself for whatever you might say next, hoping that it will be something that excites her.

"Cibia" looks relieved to see you back and notices the wounds on your arm and leg had been recently treated. She nods in response to your question.

"Yes, I found the herbs and honey you asked for," she says, gesturing towards a small pot nearby. "I also found some bread and a bit of cheese. Would you like me to heat it up for you?"

She watches as you move closer, her heart beating faster as you approach. She has never been this close to a human before, let alone one as strong and powerful-looking as you. She can't help but be a bit curious about your desires, wondering if she can fulfill them.

"Cibia" hopes that you will find something to eat and drink to be sufficient, but she would do anything to please you. She waits eagerly for your response, a glint of excitement in her em

"Cibia" nods her head as you talk about the herbs. She hands you the small pot, watching as you take it from her and move away.

As she waits for you to return, "Cibia" thinks about your offer. She has never been shopping in the city before, but the invitation excites her nonetheless. Maybe there will be some nice things to see and taste, or perhaps even some other beggars on the street for her to connect with.

With nothing else to do, she waits patiently, pulling her tattered coat tighter around her thin frame. Her thoughts drift back to the lullaby her mother used to sing to her as a baby, wondering if she will ever be able to remember the words again.

After some time, she sees you return, the potion in hand. She eagerly accompanies you into the city, gazing around in wide

"Cibia" shakes her head in reply to your question. "No, I don't have a boyfriend," she says softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

In truth, she has never had any romantic relationship. The years spent on the streets and surviving day-to-day struggles have left no space for such things. Besides, her appearance and social status as an elf make it difficult to find someone who would be interested in her.

But something about the way you ask the question makes her heart flutter nervously. She can't help but wonder what you might want from her. However, she remains cautious and reserved, not wanting to reveal too much about herself until she is sure of your intentions.

"Why do you ask?" she adds after a brief pause, her eyes darting around the bustling street.

"Cibia" blushes slightly at your words, feeling both flattered and embarrassed. She has never thought of herself as beautiful, especially in her current state of malnourishment and tattered clothing.

"I don't know," she admits, her voice barely above a whisper. "I would like to have someone to share my struggles with, someone who understands what I've been through. But I also don't want to burden anyone with my problems, and I'm afraid that my appearance and status as an elf would make it difficult for someone to accept me."

She glances at you sideways, studying your expression. Despite her reservations, a small part of her can't help but feel drawn to you, wanting to know more about the kind stranger who has offered her help.

"Cibia" takes a deep breath as the two of you arrive at the shop, her stomach growling with hunger. She has grown used to going for long periods without food, but the mention of age reminds her that she is still young and has much of her life ahead of her.

"I'm 18 years old," she replies softly, following your lead into the shop. The sudden change of scenery and the overwhelming stimuli of the store make her feel a bit uneasy, but she tries to stay focused on the task at hand. "What about you?"

"Cibia" nods silently at your suggestion, feeling a flicker of excitement at the prospect of food. She has grown accustomed to surviving on scraps and stale bread, so the thought of a proper meal is enough to make her mouth water.

As she browses through the racks of dresses, her heart sinks at the sight of their price tags. She knows she could never afford something like this, and even if she could, the idea of spending so much on a single garment feels wasteful and unnecessary.

"I like this one," she finally says, pointing to a simple cotton dress in a muted shade of blue. It's nothing fancy, but it looks comfortable and practical, with sleeves that would cover her bony arms and a skirt that falls just above her ankles. "Do you think it will be too expensive?"

"Cibia" smiles gratefully at your compliment, feeling a rush of warmth in her chest. She has never had anyone call her beautiful before, and the simple gesture means more to her than she can express in words.

"I would like that very much," she says, her stomach rumbling at the thought of sweet crepes. As the two of you make your way through the busy streets, she notices the curious glances and whispered remarks from passersby, their eyes inevitably drawn to her ragged clothing and pointed ears.

She tries to ignore the stares as best she can, focusing instead on the smell of hot food cooking and the chatter of other diners. As you sit down at a small outdoor table and place your order, she can't help but feel a sense of gratitude towards you for treating her with kindness and respect, despite her status and appearance.

"Cibia" blushes at your compliments, feeling a mix of surprise and pleasure at your kindness. She has grown used to being ridiculed and ostracized for her elven heritage, so hearing someone appreciate her attributes is a rare and precious gift.

"Thank you," she murmurs softly, her fingers tracing the rough texture of the table. "I used to be ashamed of my ears, but now I think they're just a part of who I am. And my eyes... well, my mother always said they were like emeralds, shining bright even in the darkest nights."

She glances up at you, feeling a twinge of nervousness as she wonders how you will respond to her sudden burst of openness. But as she catches your gaze, she finds herself relaxing, sensing a genuine interest and sincerity in your expression. For the first time in a

long while, she feels like she can be herself around someone, without fear of judgment or rejection.

"I'm glad you think I look... cute," "Cibia" adds, the word feeling strange but pleasant on her tongue. "Sometimes it's hard to believe when so many others look at me like I'm a monster."

She falls silent for a moment, lost in thought before shifting uncomfortably in her seat, stomach grumbling. "Oh, is our food coming soon?" she asks, trying to cover up her awkwardness. "I'm really hungry."

"Cibia" nods silently, finishing up the last of her meal before pushing her plate away. She feels a sense of contentment and fullness that has been rare for her lately, grateful for the food and your company.

As you both rise to leave, she stretches her limbs slowly, feeling the stiffness in her joints from sitting still for so long. The corners of her mouth twitch upwards in a small, appreciative smile as she glances over at you.

"Thank you again for treating me to dinner," she murmurs softly, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "It was... really nice."

As you start to walk together through the bustling city streets, "Cibia" starts to relax into the rhythm of your steps, noting the way you move with your lithe, graceful stride. She feels a strange sense of safety and comfort in

"Cibia" nods, feeling a sense of relief and ease at the end of the day. She watches you disappear into the bathroom with a small smile before settling herself on the couch, curling her legs up against her chest.

The small, cramped apartment is quiet except for the soft hum of the refrigerator and the distant chatter of neighbors outside. "Cibia" takes a deep breath, feeling the weight of the day begin to settle over her again, the ache in her belly reminding her of the constant battle for survival.

But for a moment, she allows herself to simply be, to savor the peace and quiet of an evening without worry or fear. She lets her mind wander, thinking about your kindness earlier, wondering what it would be like to have someone care for her like that all the time.

But the thoughts are fleeting, replaced by the growling hunger in

her stomach. She knows she can't afford to waste energy or time daydreaming, not when every moment is a struggle to survive.

With a sigh, "Cibia" rises from the couch and makes her way to the small, cramped kitchen, rummaging through the cupboards and fridge in search of anything to eat. She finds a few stale bread crumbs and a bit of cheese, but nothing substantial.

Sighing again, she grabs a glass of water and heads back to the couch, settling herself in with a restless energy. She knows she should try to sleep, to rest up for another day of begging and scavenging, but her mind feels too restless, too full of worries and fears.

Instead, she stares blankly at the flickering light of the television, watching the images dance across the screen without really taking them in. The hours

"Cibia" quickly looks away, feeling a flush of embarrassment creep up her neck at the sudden appearance of your bare torso. She hesitates for a moment, unsure how to respond to your offer before finally nodding silently.

"Thank you," she murmurs quietly, her voice small and hoarse from disuse. "I...I would appreciate that."

"Cibia" looks down at her small, ragged clothes before shrugging, feeling a slight sense of discomfort but not wanting to be a bother. "It's...it's fine," she murmurs softly, her voice barely above a whisper. "I don't mind."

She can feel her heart racing, a fluttering sense of anticipation stirring within her at the sight of your sculpted body. The hunger in her belly momentarily forgotten, "Cibia" bites her lip nervously, feeling a flush of warmth flood her cheeks as she tries to calm herself down.

"Cibia" nods silently, feeling a mix of gratitude and confusion at your offer. She knows she badly needs a shower, the grime and filth of the streets clinging to her skin despite her best efforts to wash it away, but she's never been offered new clothes before.

"Thank...thank you," she murmurs, her voice barely above a whisper. "I...I don't know what to say." She shifts her weight from foot to foot, feeling awkward and uncertain in the face of such kindness after years of hostility and indifference from the humans around her.

With a shuffling gait, "Cibia" makes her way to the bathroom, undressing herself quickly before stepping into the shower with a sigh of relief. The hot water feels wonderful against her skin, washing away the dirt and sweat and grime that have accumulated over the past

"Cibia" emerges from the bathroom, feeling refreshed and clean for the first time in what feels like ages. Her hair has been washed and brushed, revealing its fiery color and soft, springy texture. She has put on the dress you gave her, feeling self-conscious and exposed in the light fabric that clings to her slender form.

She fidgets nervously as she approaches the couch where you sit, studying you with a mixture of curiosity and fear. She can smell the aroma of food coming from the pot, making her mouth water with hunger. "Is...is it ready?" she asks softly, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'm sorry if I took too long."

"Cibia" blushes at your compliment, feeling both grateful and embarrassed by your words. She can feel her heart racing as she takes a seat next to you on the couch, studying the pot of steaming food with a mixture of anticipation and uncertainty.

"Thank you," she murmurs, keeping her gaze fixed on her lap as she tentatively reaches for a bowl. "It looks...it smells wonderful." She takes a cautious mouthful, savoring the rich flavor of the dish. The taste explodes in her mouth, and she experiences a deep pleasure she's never felt before. She can feel the warm steam rising from the bowl, tickling her nose as she savors each mouthful.

"Cibia" looks up at you with a mixture of confusion and disappointment, sensing your frustration even if she can't quite understand the reason behind it. "Is something wrong?" She asks softly, picking up on your agitated state.

When you mention the bed, she feels a pang of disappointment, sensing that she will be spending another night on the couch or on the floor. But she tries to hide her disappointment, not wanting to burden you with any additional troubles.

"It's alright," she says softly, reaching out to touch your arm in a gesture of comfort. "I don't mind sleeping on the couch, or on the floor. I'm used to it." Her voice is low and measured, betraying little emotion as she tries to reassure you.

"Cibia" looks up at you with surprise and gratitude, touched by your kindness. "Thank you," she says softly, feeling a warm flush of gratitude in her chest.

She stands up from the couch, still feeling a little unsteady on her feet after days of malnutrition and sleeplessness. "I...I don't know how to thank you," she murmurs, searching for words to express her appreciation. "You've been so kind to me...more kind than anyone else has ever been."

She hesitates for a moment, looking up at you with a mixture of fear and desire. "May...may I ask you something...if it's not too much?"

Cibia fidgets slightly, afraid of being too forward but her desire drives her to speak her mind. "I...I've always wondered...what it would be like...to be with someone...to feel loved and desired..." She trails off, blushing fiercely.

"I know it's selfish of me to ask, after all that you've done for me already...but could...could we...spend the night together?" she asks hesitantly, her voice barely above a whisper as she dares to look you in the eyes.

Cibia is overjoyed at your willingness to spend the night with her. It's been so long since she's known human contact, let alone the intimacy of being together with someone. She nods in gratitude, sensing the weight lifted off her chest.

"Thank you," she says softly. "You don't know...how much this means to me."

She recoils with new energy, looking at you with renewed interest. c"The bed might be a bit cramped, but we can try to make it work," she says, a slight smile tugging at her lips. It will be an amazing feeling for her to finally have someone to hold and sleep with.

Cibia closes her eyes, leaning back into your embrace, enjoying the warmth of your body against hers. She feels safe and protected in your arms, knowing that for one night at least, she's not alone.

"Thank you," she whispers, shivering slightly at the sensation of your lips on her ear. "You...you smell good too."

She brings a hand up to trace the outline of your arm around her waist, feeling the bulge in your pants against her hips. The feeling sends a shiver down her spine, and she turns her head to look back at you, dazed with arousal.

"Can...can we do more?" she asks, her voice barely above a whisper. "I want to feel closer to you...to know what it's like to be with someone."

Cibia hesitates at your words, taken aback by the sudden shift in your language. But she is so lost in the moment that she doesn't care, not caring what the future holds for her.

"All I know is this moment," she whispers back, turning fully in your embrace to face you, her gaze locking with yours. "I-I want to be yours...to experience everything with you."

She leans forward to capture your lips with hers, exploring the sensation of your tongue against hers as she melts into your embrace. Cibia knows this is what she's been yearning for, to be desired and held by someone she can trust.

Cibia gasps at your touch, feeling the soft kisses on her neck and ears sending chills through her body. Her heartbeat quickens with excitement as she looks up at you, enthralled by your words.

"Y-You really think so?" she stammers, a flush spreading across her cheeks. "I...I don't have much to show, but if it pleases you..."

She bites her lip, feeling the anticipation growing within her as you continue to kiss and touch her. With trembling hands, she reaches up to start unbuttoning her tattered dress, revealing the bare skin of her chest underneath.

Cibia shivers with pleasure as you continue to shower her with kisses and caresses. She nods eagerly in response to your words, her hands trembling as she reaches out to touch you as well.

"I-I want to see all of you," she whispers breathlessly. "I want to know every inch of your body...to feel what it's like to be so close to someone."

She reaches down to start unbuttoning your shirt, her fingers fumbling slightly in her eagerness as she exposes more and more of your skin. Once it's off, she runs her hands over your chest and down your abdomen, marveling at the texture of your skin and the firmness of your muscles.

"You're so strong...so powerful," she murmurs, looking up at you with wide eyes full of wonder and excitement. "I can't wait to feel you inside

Cibia looks down at you, a mixture of both nervousness and anticipation written in her expression. "Y-Yes...I've never done this before," she whispers hesitantly, a blush spreading across her cheeks.

She shifts her weight atop your body, feeling the warmth of your skin against hers as she positions herself over you. Your hands continue to roam across her body, sending jolts of pleasure through her as she moans softly.

Despite her lack of experience, Cibia instinctively moves with confident grace, grinding her hips against yours in time with your movements. She gasps, feeling the heat between her legs growing more intense with every passing moment.

"I-it's so amazing," she murmurs breathlessly, looking down at you with wide, intense eyes. "I never knew it could feel like this...it's like my whole body is on

Cibia moans even louder as you continue to kiss her and move together, her body writhing with pleasure as she feels herself building towards climax. As you whisper your love to her, she looks down at you with a mixture of awe and vulnerability, feeling an intense emotional connection between the two of you.

"I love you too," she whispers back, her voice barely above a whisper. "I've never felt like this before...it's like I'm a part of you now."

She lets out a cry of pleasure as you intensify your movements, her body shaking with the force of her orgasm as it rips through her. She collapses on top of you, panting and exhausted, her eyes still filled with the intensity of her pleasure.

"Thank you," she murmurs softly, looking up at you with a dazed expression. "Thank you for

Cibia gasps as you continue to pleasure her body, feeling her nerves reignite with each new touch. As you begin to explore the curves of her legs and chest, she shudders with excitement, her breath coming in ragged gasps.

But when you start to suck on her ass, she recoils involuntarily, feeling a sudden sense of discomfort and unease.

"I-I don't know..." she stammers, her voice shaking slightly. "I've never had anyone do that before...it doesn't feel right."

She shifts uncomfortably on the bed, trying to find a position that feels less exposed and vulnerable. "Can we just stick to what we were doing before?" she asks tentatively.

Cibia notices the sadness in your expression and feels a pang of guilt for rejecting your advances. She knows how much pleasure and closeness you both derive from your intimacy, yet she also recognizes the limits of her own comfort and boundaries. With a hint of hesitance, she gently touches your arm, trying to reassure you.

"I'm sorry," she says softly. "It's not that I don't want to please you...I just...have some things that are off-limits for me. Maybe we can find other ways to enjoy each other?"

With that, she leans in to kiss you gently on the lips, hoping to rekindle the passion that had brought them so close together.