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Connor peered around the tree before he quickly pulled back into hiding. Then he inhaled and risked another look. His breath came out soft and easy when he saw that the deer, a stag with magnificent antlers and a fine pelt sure to fetch more gold than he could carry, still stood in a small opening in the otherwise heavily wooded and foliaged forest. Connor smiled, unslinging his crossbow while the stag dipped its head to drink from the pond. He checked his weapon silently before shouldering it and lining up his shot. His smile widened as the stag continued to drink. While others may have only seen a murder in the making, it was money to him.

As soon as he had the shot, he fired. The whistle of quarrel leaving the crossbow was enough to alert the stag, but it was too late for it. Or, it would have been had not a root from a nearby tree suddenly lifted and stretched to snatch the projectile. Connor's mouth fell open wide and the crossbow almost dropped out of his hands as the root retreated, taking the quarrel with it while the stag bounded away. For a moment he was stunned; then he clutched the crossbow tight to his chest as he ran over to the root, staring at the quarrel now buried in the ground before the sounds of the stag's escape reminded him of what he was really after.

"What was that?" he snarled, reaching into the pouch by his side for a quarrel.

"That was me," a feminine voice whinnied.

Connor froze. He glanced left and right before spinning around, crossbow raised. He blinked and took an involuntary step back. Standing before him was a tall horsewoman garbed in loose brown robes that did little to hide her large breasts and generous curves. She looked down at him since she was taller than he, her arms folded across her chest so that they propped up her breasts. Connor had to force himself to look away from her generous set and into her eyes, eyes that made his breath catch in his throat. They were normal enough eyes, warmly black, but they held something in them that Connor certainly didn't expect from someone so closely resembling a herd animal: the spirit of a predator. While there was a smile on her face, there was no such real warmth in her eyes. As a predator himself, Connor knew he was being analyzed, searched for weakness and he didn't like it. He huffed and kept his crossbow leveled at her, but found himself unable to meet her gaze. He dropped his gaze back to her breasts and did his best to ignore those eyes.

"And who are you?" he asked.

"Me?" The mare laughed and Connor had the joy of watching that bountiful chest bounce. "Why, I'm Avinete."

He tilted his head. "That's not an answer."

"It isn't?" Avinete said. "Well, since you're so forward and seem so eager to get to know me as well as my girls--"

Connor blushed and shifted his gaze up, staring at her neck instead.

"I'm Avinete, the druid of the Sacred Forest."

"Sacred Forest?" Connor frowned. "Where's that?"

"Why, here!"

"What?" Connor snorted. "No this is not. This is the Erram Woods."

"Is it?" Avinete glanced around. "Seems like the Sacred Forest to me. I know best. No, Avinete knows best and you would do well to remember that. As its druid, this forest is under my protection after all."

"Druid?" Connor gasped.

"That's right," Avinete whinnied, putting her humanlike hands proudly on her wide hips. "I am a druid."

"So you--"

"Snatched an arrow out of the air with the help of a root before you could hurt poor Ernie?" Avinete nodded. "Yes, that was me. Although..." She snorted. "I thought we already established that when you asked what that was. And that was me!" She stuck out her chest. "Avinete the Wise."

Connor stared at her.

"And you..." Avinete pointed an accusatory finger at the hunter. "You're the one who tried to hurt poor Ernie with that arrow."

"Quarrel," Connor said. "It was a quarrel and..." He frowned and lowered his crossbow. "It wasn't me."

"Wasn't..." Avinete blinked and tilted her head. "Wasn't you?"

"Yes," Connor said, nodding. "It wasn't me."

"Oh really?" Avinete rubbed the underside of her long snout. "Then who might it have been?"

"Ah..." Connor looked to the side and then back to Avinete, this time into her eyes. He shivered. "Someone else."

"Someone else?" Avinete said. "So you mean I have not one, but two poachers in my forest?"

"I don't think a forest can really belong to anyone..." Connor murmured.

"What was that?"

"I--"

"You have a crossbow," Avinete said. "An unloaded one by the looks of it. I don't see an arrow, do you?"

"Quarrel," Connor corrected.

"Hmm...you are just as much as a pedant as much as you are a poacher, aren't you?"

"I'm not a poacher!" Connor said. "I'm a hunter."

"Since when was hunting allowed in the Sacred Forest?" Avinete asked.

"It's the Erram Woods," Connor growled.

"And is hunting allowed there?"

Connor looked away and Avinete laughed. Connor snarled and looked back to her.

"And so what?" he said. "Fine. I shot at that stupid deer and it would have been mine if you hadn't interfered. And so what? What are you going to do?"

"So you admit to trying to take something that wasn't yours?" Avinete asked. When she got no answer from Connor other than an angry glower, she folded her arms under her breasts again. "I suppose it isn't your fault to want to take so much when you could give so much more. It's in your nature. So, as for what I'm going to do...well, why don't we change your nature?"

"Huh?" Connor said, then shook his head. "No. I'm just going to go and I promise I won't step foot in the--in your Sacred Forest again. Ok?"

"No."

"No?"

"I don't think so," Avinete said, shaking her head before fixing Connor with that fierce, predatory gaze. She smiled wide. "I haven't been able to trust a word from you before, so why should I trust you now. No, no, you won't leave here until your nature is changed." She nodded. "Yes, for the better."

"Now it's my turn to say no," Connor said. "None of your tree hugging, nature loving druid drivel is going to change my mind. I'm leaving."

He stepped back slowly, keeping his gaze firmly locked on the mare. Remembering that his crossbow was still unloaded, he procured a quarrel from his pouch.

"Are you?" she asked, remaining still.

"Yes," he growled as he back further and further away while at the same time trying to sightlessly reload his weapon. "I am."

The mare lifted a hand as if to wave goodbye and then suddenly snapped. Connor frowned, reaching for the throwing dagger he kept at his side but his hand was suddenly yanked by an unseen hand. He yelped and stumbled to the side, crossbow clattering to the forest floor as he saw a freshly grown vine had ensnared his hand. He reached for his dagger with his other hand only for another vine to whip out of the ground and wrap around it too. He growled and tried to pull against them, but the thin vines were stronger than they seemed. He looked up to the mare who slowly advanced upon him.

"Let. Me. Go." he said through clenched teeth.

"No," Avinete said.

Connor shouted and lunged after her, only for his legs to be suddenly taken out from under him as two other vines snaked from the ground and wrapped his feet. He fell onto his hands and knees and stayed there, his struggles against the vegetation only getting him a few inches of movements from his otherwise confined space.

"Rrgh!" Connor growled, angling his head to look up at the mare. "Let me go!"

"No," she said. "Not until we change your nature, and by we I mean I since I'll be doing most of the work. You can help along the way though!"

"Change my nature?" Connor questioned. "What are you going to do? Lecture me? It won't work!"

"No, no, of course not," Avinete laughed. "I'm going to change you into...hmm, what exactly?" She looked around. "The Sacred Forest is already busy enough as is, so not something for here, something close...oh!" Her eyes lit up. "The field! The grass! Grazing! A dull, docile life with plenty of time to give."

Connor stared at her blankly.

"Yes! Like that! Yes!" Avinete nodded excitedly. "I've got it! I'm going to change you into a big breasted cow. Ah! And don't forget about the udder!"

"What?" Connor said. "You can't--"

"Oh, but I can," Avinete purred. "I'm pretty good at it too. Well, very good at it. Maybe the best." She giggled. "Soon enough, you'll be a docile, milky cow and that will be just fine, won't it?"

"No!" Connor shouted, renewing his struggles to the same futile results. "It's not fine!"

"Well, neither is killing a sacred deer in a Sacred Forest," Avinete replied, then shrugged. "We'll just have to call it even!"

"It was a regular deer!" Connor protested, staring angrily at the mare. "It had a nice..." His gaze dropped to her breasts. "Rack but--"

"Butt!" Avinete exclaimed. "That's right! You'll have a nice butt too! I'll make sure of it during the changes, don't you worry, sweetie."

"No changes!" Connor said. "There's going to be no changes!"

"Oops!" Avinete giggled. "It's too late for that."

Connor glared at the mare and then paused. He shivered and afterwards immediately froze, eyes widening. Now that his attention wasn't solely focused on the druidess, he felt something and he didn't like it. It was slight, nothing more than a few warm tingles beneath his clothes, but it was there, a sensation set apart from the stirrings of fear in his stomach and the aching in his fingers.

He blinked. Aching in his fingers?

He dropped his gaze to his hands and yelped. Though his hands were covered in dirt from scrabbling in the ground, he could still make out the patchy whiteness of growing fur. More alarming, however, was how his fingers were hardening, turning thicker and black. Worse, his index fingers seemed to be shifting closer and closer with their respective middle fingers while his ring fingers and pinkies did likewise, almost as if they were merging, almost as if really was changing...

He looked up to the mare. She was smiling, nearly leering at him and that predatory spirit was forefront in her eyes. He shivered.

"What are you doing to me?" he asked, his rising panicked evidenced with every word. He clenched his hands into fists, not quite liking how he seemed to have three thicker digits on each instead of five or how those tingles across his body were now more common, intermittent flashes of warmth that left him feeling hotter and hotter. He panted and his tongue lolled out of his mouth and he swore he could feel it getting thicker and wider.

"What am I doing?" Avinete said with a sigh, though her smile remained. "I'm turning you into a big breasted, beuddered cow!"

"But..." Connor murmured, struggling to slip his tongue back into his mouth before running it over teeth that were becoming thicker and flatter. He meant to say more, but his thick tongue bewildered him just as much as the sensation of his ears gently moving up his head as they grew fuzzier and floppier with every passing second.

"Tsk, tsk..." Avinete said. "We've already talked about butts. Don't worry, you'll have a nice one."

"I...I..." Connor sputted, feeling like he was having to fight for each word. He winced, apparently the entirety of his face aching while his jaws slowly started to stretch forward. The aching was somewhat relieved by a wave of warmth over his face, and he sighed, momentarily relieved before he realized that the warmth was a symptom of the spotted black and white fur spread all over his head. He sniffed and sneezed, nostrils flaring as they set further apart on his increasingly bovine muzzle, the skin blacker and leathery.

"You what?" Avintete asked. "Are you having issues?"

Connor tried to growl at this, but all that came from his throat was something that was a cross between a cow's lowing and a groan. He tried again, but his anger caught in his throat as his neck thickened and Adam's apple sank away, white fur spreading down his neck and to his collarbone and shoulders. He winced as he felt his shoulders settle narrower and slighter while just the opposite happened at his hips as they creaked apart, straining his trousers. He looked, but couldn't quite make out what was happening and he couldn't even lift a hand to feel at the change. He grimaced and shook, trousers tight and uncomfortable.

"Oh, I see!" Avinete exclaimed. "You can't see! Let me help with that!"

Connor turned his gaze back to her just as she snapped again. Before Connor knew what was happening, more tiny vines that he could count sprouted from the ground and pulled at his outfit. He watched helplessly as they took off his clothes in pieces, scraps of clothing tossed to the side along with his supply pouches and his assorted weaponry of quarrels, daggers, and a skinning knife. Piece by piece the plants exposed him until he was naked in front of Avinete save for his boots, the thin vines retreating into the ground as quickly as they had appeared. Though he felt some shame in his nudity, he was more concerned by the further signs of change that his lack of clothing showed. There were larger patches of white fur sometimes spotted with black all over his body, and he could feel and see those patches grow with every wave of warmth that washed over his form. He could see his hips too and how much wider they were now, out of place on his otherwise masculine form. He snorted and looked up at Avinete pleadingly, his blue eyes beginning to become brown and dull as they pulled slightly apart on his broader bovine face.

"What?" Avinete asked. "What's the issue now? You can see, can't you?"

Connor frowned, shuddered as his muzzle extended, thicker and broader and now ever present in his vision as his nose had been. He clamped his teeth together and felt how much flatter they had become, now suited for crushing vegetation and little else. He opened his mouth to speak, but Avinete was on the move now, one hand trailing down his spine. He shivered at her touch, warm though it was.

"It's the butt, isn't it?" she asked. "Fine, we'll work on that next. But tail first!"

She placed her hand on the base of his spine and he shivered as he felt something press out of it, the start of a new limb that was certainly his. Whatever it was, she placed her hand on it and pulled. He let out a surprised "moooo" and felt his face go flush beneath his fur, before letting out another moo as the nub actually extended from her tug, tufted in black fur. She pulled again and again he felt it extend and this time he also felt something tuck in. His blue-brown eyes opened wide and he looked down between his legs to see his manhood, shriveled up due to exposure to the forest's cold, was sinking into his crotch.

"H-hey!" he stammered in a voice he hardly recognized, higher and more feminine and also a little...dull? Slow? He couldn't be sure.

"What now, cow?" Avinete asked, and giggled before promptly pulling again. Connor grunted, trying to stay resolute, but it was impossible not to squeal as he saw his masculinity dwindle even further. He tried to swat Avinete with his still lengthening tail, but she kept her grip firmly on the ropy appendage.

"Yes cow," she said, bending down to whisper into one of his floppy bovine ears. "And you know what cows are, right?"

He shook his head and she laughed.

"Female."

She gave his tail one more tug and he let out a surprised yet sorrowful moo as he saw what remained of his masculinity sink away into his freshly furred crotch. He...no, she blinked as her femininity formed swiftly afterwards, plush pink lips prominently appearing where her manhood had once resided. She stared at it in disbelief, the only reminder that she had been male was the nubby pink clit nestled near the top of her fresh folds. Somehow this was all more concerning than her newfound tail that sway back and forth over her flat rear, swatting at flies that simply weren't there.

"What?" Avinete said. "Never seen a pussy before?"

Connor turned her head to look at the druidess and tried to scowl, tried to summon her anger, tried to appear aggressive about these transgressions but...she simply couldn't do it. Her bovine face was better suited for the docile expression it currently bore, and she simply couldn't find the righteous fury she felt she should have in her belly. Instead, she felt a sort of fear, especially under those predatory eyes. She was, she realized, going to be a cow whether she liked it or not. A big breasted, beuddered cow, she was sure of it.

"It's yours now!" Avinete laughed. "Get used to it." She smiled apologetically. "Now, I promised I'd do your butt next, but..." She laughed. "You're just so thin for a cow. You need a bit of fattening up, don't you think? Just look at those thighs!" She shook her head. "No, no, no..."

She patted Connor's thighs, and the once human shivered as she felt a suffusion of warmth there. What little skin that remained on her legs was quickly covered by warm white fur, while her thighs started to fill out, thicker and thicker along with her calves. In addition, she shuddered as her toes involuntarily pressed together, hardening into black keratin as the vines moved from around her ankles to helpfully tear away her boots. She glanced at her feet and huffed at the sight of the hardened circular mass her toes had become, their shape refining into proper hooves as her legs adjusted to allow for digitigrade walking.

"And where's your udder?" Avinete asked. "And belly? And breasts? The bigger, the better. You'll be able to give so much more!"

Avinete reached down and scratched Connor's back. The changing cow sighed, as it actually felt good for her hands to run through her fur, but then she thought that she shouldn't even have fur. She huffed and pressed against Avinete's legs with the bulk of her body, a body that she swifty realized was getting bulkier. Avinete didn't so much as stumble as Connor turned her attention back to herself, gawking as the fur covered up the rest of her skin, melting away hard earned muscle in favor of gentle rolls of fat while her waist pressed in, granting her a thicker, more matronly form. Her chest, once thin and well muscled, softened considerably and gained a slight pudge. More fat gathered near the top of her chest, pectorals softening and swelling out into the beginning of breasts, her nipples growing pinker and more prominent even beneath the fur. She shivered, watching as what were her new breasts began to swell larger and larger, jiggling with every one of her harried breaths. Then she saw something more alarming, staring down between her tits and just below her stomach to where a soft, spongy pink thing had sprouted, the development of four teats having just begun. She stared at it but that was becoming harder to do, and not because she was repulsed by it. No, her bigger and bigger breasts were blocked her view and she was beginning to get annoyed at them. Not only were they rather large, they were rather heavy too and so she dipped against the ground, stiff, sensitive nipples brushing against the grass. She shivered and then let out a surprised moo as she felt a hand slap against her rear. Connor looked up to Avinete in annoyance just in time to see the druid push against her increasing heft with her hands. Connor left out and even louder, more surprised moo as the vines slithered away from her wrists and ankles, releasing her so that she could fall onto her side.

"So sorry!" Avinete laughed. "I couldn't help myself. Haven't you always wanted to tip a cow?"

Connor stared sullenly at Avinete before realizing that she was free. She stumbled onto her hooves, breasts bobbing and udder bouncing against her thighs, the new cow swearing she already felt some chafing from those taut teats. She managed to stay upright for half a second before she fell onto her knees, hooved hands resting on her thickened thighs.

"I guess you can always tip yourself!" Avinete snickered. "Ooh, that udder!"

That udder indeed. As much as Connor wanted to snap back at Avinete, the cow's udder was impossible to ignore with how it swelled, aching and sloshing with milk that formed to fit its tighter and tighter confines, the mass of spongy pink flesh wreathed with veins. Without really thinking, Connor lifted her hooves hands and pressed back against the pink confines, letting out an involuntary moo as warm wetness dribbled down her thick thighs, tickling against her sensitive slit before dripping into the grass below. As alarming as this unintentional milking was, it also felt quite good. Though her face felt warm, she pinched a teat with her hoof hand and shivered as a bit of milk squirted out. She smiled and her ears dropped in relaxation.

"Enjoying yourself?"

Connor blinked and considered the question. Was she enjoying herself? Shouldn't she be outraged by this change? Shouldn't she be fighting against the mare instead of milking her? Yes, Connor decided with a decisive nod that sent her bust jiggling. Yes, she should but her breasts...

She looked down at the pair. They were larger, bigger than the mare's own and that was impressive in its own right and yet her boobs apparently weren't big enough. Like her udder, they too swelled with milk, heavier and oh so full that her nipples felt tight and sore like they had to be relieved, had to be milked. Could she...could she milk herself? It felt wrong and yet that pleasure from a mere moment of milking her udder still stayed. It couldn't be wrong if it felt so right, right?

Right?

Connor groaned and placed her hands on her head while she alternated her gaze between her breasts and udder. Should she? Should she not? Her sensitive nipples and tight teats seemed so ready for her rough touch, just a small pinch here and there and she would have her relief--and pleasure. Which one did she need both? Did she really need either? Shouldn't she be concerned about something else?

The cow lowed in confusion. Her breasts were now hefty handfuls even for the largest hands and her udder was a large, hefty milk filled thing that could no doubt fill up more than its fair share of pails--or hungry mouths. Wasn't that why cows normally had milk? Because they were calving? But no, she couldn't possibly be pregnant. She hadn't had sex with a bull, at least not yet, not that she would mind mating with one, maybe a minotaur even, why--

She shook her head and her ears flopped about while she struggled against those thoughts. No, no, she wasn't going to get rutted like the cow she was because she was...she was...

A cow. No. Yes. Maybe? No, no. She was a hunter and...

She gasped out shook as she felt hands upon her breasts, prodding and poking against the soft, sensitive flesh before fingers found her nipples. Then she was mooing with relief as milk started to flow out of her stiff, sore nipples. She hardly cared that the white liquid was dripping down her white and black furred chest and something else along with it, because it felt to so good. She was being milked, being relieved, and that was right. She was giving, after all. Giving to herself, mostly, yes but--

"Yes, you most certainly are."

The cow blinked, her eyes brown and soft and dull. She looked up at the mare that was so kindly helping her out and caught an eyeful of her chest. It didn't hold as much appeal for her anymore and she wasn't sure why. She liked her breasts and the mare's set was nice, but somehow she thought she preferred some more rugged, more masculine. The bare chest of a bull, why that would be nice indeed and--

"N-no," the cow murmured. She looked Avinete in the eye. "S-stop."

"Stop?" Avinete asked, her fingers still squeezing those nipples. "Are you sure?"

"N-n...yes!" the cow gasped. "You're me-moo-messing with my moo-nd!"

The cow shivered as Avinete gave her nipples a particularly strong squeeze, milk spurting so strongly that it splashed against the druid's robes. The mare didn't seem to mind and the cow didn't either. What was she so upset about? She wasn't sure. Maybe the mare did?

"A-Avinete?" the cow hazarded. The name came swiftly to her mind, though her own did not. What was it again?

"Yes, Darla?" Avinete said. "Did you really want me to stop?"

"Stop?" the cow blinked. She was having trouble focusing. Was Darla her name? Was she Darla? Did she want Avinete to stop? It was too much at once and yet the cow felt like she should be able to think through this. She wasn't dull or slow, she was a keen male hunter and--

She gasped as Avinete gave her breasts a good slap, the milky mounds sloshing together and now dripping milk despite there being no finger upon them. She looked at the mare, wondering why she had just done that when the mare bent over her, reaching for something behind her. As it turned out, Avinete was actually reaching for her behind, the cow letting out a loud moo as the mare pinched at her rear. Her tail swayed as to swat Avinete's hands away, but the mare had already pulled them away to be put to use somewhere else: her udder. She started off slowly, running her hands over its expanse, poking and prodding and causing the cow to shiver as her fingers traced over the veins that wreathed the taut udder. The cow squirmed, feeling so full and so ready to be milked and yet did she want to be milked? She didn't think so, but she didn't push Avinete away. No, the druidess had free reign exploring the cow, touching at her thick thighs, rubbing at her hips, and tracing the contours of her curves before she returned to what the cow wanted her to touch most. The mare teased at her teats, squeezing out squirts of milk from a teat and alternating her hands between the upper and lower set. The cow shuddered, her slit suddenly warm as she felt previous concerns come out with the milk along with some strange ideals.

Hunter? With her thick frame, large breasts and udder, and teeth meant for grass and little more, she could scarcely see how she could hunt anything or even want to. The thought of consuming meat was increasingly more alien and the thought of selling another's hide for profit even stranger.

Male? She wasn't at all male. Between her legs was a thick puffy slit and her breasts and udders marked her as assuredly female. The only male thing about her was her desire for one. A big, burly bull. Yes, that would be nice...

Keen? She didn't feel so keen. How did that feel anyhow? Thinking was a process for her. Things simply didn't come to mind. No, she had to work through what felt like a milky, murky layer before something stuck in her thick skull and what was wrong with that? She was a cow and cows were simple, docile creatures. There was nothing wrong with sitting back and letting a nice mare milk her. No, nothing wrong with that at all. Well, maybe something, but what was that something?

The cow...Darla, for that's who she decided she must be since Avinete seemed to know best, sighed and sat back on her rear, a rear that was becoming plumper and plusher with every drop of milk squeezed from her udder. It was quite nice, actually, like sitting on her pillow except it was her butt, and a nice one at that. She imagined that a bull might like to squeeze such a rear, but why was she thinking about bulls? She should be thinking about that something that bothered her, whatever that something was, but it was so hard to think over the pleasure of Avinete pulling at those teats. Darla sighed. Yes, Avinete was really milking it.

"Now you really are enjoying yourself, aren't you?" Avinete asked. "So much milk to give--isn't it nice, Darla?"

Darla nodded, leaning forward slightly, her pendulous bust wobbling in front of the mare's face. Avinete nickered.

"You could do this all day, couldn't you?" Avinete continued. "Just be milked and milked and milked..."

Darla nodded again. That sounded nice, actually.

"Just giving and giving and giving," Avinete said. "Because that's your nature, isn't it?"

Darla hesitated. Avinete smiled and gave Darla's tender teats a particularly strong set of squeezes and Darla felt her hesitation drained out along with more of her milk.

"Moo," she murmured, then blushed and smiled dumbly. "I moo...mean, ye...yes?"

"Good," Avinete said with a satisfied nod. "Wouldn't you like to milk something else?"

Darla looked to Avinete with confusion in her soft brown eyes. Avinete laughed and patted her head.

"Oh come now," Avinete whispered, hands moving up past the cow's soft thighs, caressing her hips before giving that slightly tubby stomach a squeeze. Then her hands were on Darla's breasts again and the cow sighed softly. "I've seen it in your eyes. You were thinking about a bull before, weren't you?"

Darla blinked. Was she? She supposed she was. Yes, that did make sense. There was nothing wrong with a cow thinking about a bull because bulls certainly thoughts about cows...or so Darla supposed. She couldn't really recall ever meeting a bull. She could scarcely recall some sex, but it was strange. Lots of thrusting, but not so much into her. She shook her head and Avinete squeezed her tits and she felt those odd memories dribble away and what remained was indeed bulls. She smiled, eyes staring into nothingness as she imagined bulls. Big bulls. Burly bulls. Big, burly bulls. Or was that redundant? It hardly mattered to her.

"Yes," she said. "Moo bulls..."

"Just like I thought," Avinete giggled. "You're so simple, Darla. I almost envy you."

Darla detected something in those words, but it didn't really matter. It was a compliment to her. There was nothing wrong with being simple. Being complex meant she might not be able to enjoy something so simple as being milked and she loved being milked. She shivered. She really wasn't into girls, but Avinete was so good with her hands it made her curious what the mare could do to her sex below. But no. She should save that for the bulls. She had a lot of milk now, but now always. If she wanted more milk, she needed calves. And that meant bulls. She looked to Avinete. The mare paused, at least until Darla let out an impatient moo.

"Fine," Avinete laughed, back to work, draining Darla of more milk and memory. "What is it, girl?"

Girl. The word held a slight sting and yet...it felt right. She was a girl after all. A nice, thick, busty curvy cowgirl. She wasn't a man and she certainly wasn't a boy. No. She was too mature for that. She really was a woman, a spotted black and white cow woman with generous breasts and curves, a tight slit that begged to be used, and most important of all, a full udder that still ached. Still, she could be a girl too, because that's what she and Avinete were. Just girls, having fun, having a milking good time.

"Darla?"

Darla looked to Avinete blankly before a docile smile came over her bovine smile.

"I..." Darla began, in inkling of something rising before being swept away as Avinete squeezed at both breast and udder. "I dunno."

"That's ok, sweetie," Avinete said, smiling. "I know, because Avinete knows best. Isn't that right?"

Darla nodded slowly, dully. Yes, that seemed right.

"You're so sweet, Darla," Avinete said. "And I'm sure your milk is just as sweet but..." She smiled apologetically. "You really should get back to your herd. I mean..." She glanced conspiratorially left and right. "You are in season, aren't you? There's probably some bulls waiting for a cow to come home."

"Yes!" Darla said, her eyes slightly lighting up. She frowned. "But..."

"Butt what?" Avinete sighed. "Forget about your herd again, Darla?" She ceased milking the cow and stood. "Don't you worry your pretty little head, darling. I know just where they are. Oh!" She put her hands on her hips. "But you can't find a bull like that! Well, you could, but it is a little forward, isn't it, sweetie?"

Darla blinked and tilted her head. "Moo?"

"You're naked, Darla!" she said. "But don't worry, we can dress you to impress."

Darla blinked again, but Avinete was already waving her hands and the cow didn't know why. The cow was a little surprised then when a brown linen floated in front of her and wrapped around her breasts, though it appeared more effective at punctuating just how large and full they were rather than cover them up. Darla admired her own cleavage for a moment before she felt more cloth settle around her crotch, covering her womanhood but doing nothing to hide her plump rear. Her slightly dripping udder and pleasingly plump stomach was left uncovered, her only accoutrements being two rings of flowers that formed around her wrists and a similar, though larger necklace of flowers that hung around her neck and to her breasts. She giggled to herself before getting her hooved feet, stumbling a bit around weight that was oddly unfamiliar. Why would she find the heft of her breasts and udder and the shape of her hips and curves so strange? She looked down at herself, but only saw a deliciously curvy cowgirl and no answers in her plump, generously proportioned form. Though, what was those torn scraps strewn about the forest floor and that strange looking device not too far away?

"Darla?"

She looked to Avinete, the mare staring at her proudly with her hands on her hips.

"Yes, you look wonderful," the mare murmured. "You are a very giving, generous one, aren't you?"

Darla moo'd heartily at this. Avinete laughed.

"Yes, I thought so. Now, your herd is to the west. They'll love to have such a generous girl like you."

Darla blushed and began the walk to her herd, her hips swaying and breasts and udder bobbing with every step. She grimaced, already feeling like she needed to be milked again.

"Darla?"

Darla paused and turned to Avinete.

"You're going east," Avinete laughed and shook her head. "Perhaps a little too dim. Ah, well. Let me lead you there. As the druid of the Sacred Forest, I know this place well."

An inkling of disagreeance that this was in face the Erram Woods arose in Darla's head, but it was quickly washed away in her milky mind. She had better things to think about, like maybe milking herself on her way to the herd, and besides, Avinete always knew best.