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	Darkness settled in throughout Elwynn Forest as the last few rays of the evening sunlight disappeared over the horizon.  The shroud of darkness was hardly a concern for the persistent celebrants at Stormwind's gates, however, as the massive bonfire crackled with warm life to comfort all who kept near it.  Denizens of the Alliance turned out in droves to celebrate the Midsummer Fire Festival, but not all of the celebration involved simple peace and worship of the flame....

	"Trust me, we used to do this all the time back in the day," the elder tauren rumbled as quietly as he could.  Drenan offered his daughter a confident smile before peering around behind their hiding tree to observe the celebrants.  "Their dancing will not last.  As soon as they take a break, we will strike."  Perhaps his words may have had more weight if Drenan were in his standard full-plate gear, but due to the need for agility and the stifling heat of Midsummer, the paladin wore naught but the loosest plate leggings he could find.  His scarred torso and arms were yet bared for all to see, but even without coverage much of his fur was nonetheless matted with sweat.

	Lyrah had herself quietly tucked away in a bush not far from her father's hooves, but it was apparent she was having a much more difficult battle with the heat from their hiding spot.  A red-orange wrap of cloth was tied around her torso and beneath her armpits to cover her ever-heavy chest, and a short, matching skirt was hiked up from her crouched position.  Her bare nethers so desperately desired a breeze, but the Midsummer's heat was stagnant and humid, leaving her drenched from head to hoof in unsatisfying, not-so-cool sweat.  Her brow arched with concern as she looked up at her father and whispered, "I dunno, dad... if we get caught-"

	"Then get ready to run," Drenan returned with a devilish grin.  "That is half the fun."

	Lyrah returned his look nervously as she tugged at the neckline of her wrap.  "We're not exactly ready for battle though.  What if they attack us?"

	Drenan turned and crouched to look his daughter properly in the eye, and one weathered hand reached out to tenderly touch her shoulder.  "Just trust me, sweetheart.  I would not have suggested this had I thought it too dangerous, I swear it.  It is supposed to be fun."  A small smile returned as he looked her in the eye, and slowly he pulled a small flask from his belt and offered it to her.  "One good toss will douse the fire, and I think you should do the honors."

	The shaman couldn't hold back a flattered smile as she took the flask from her father, quietly fighting the urge to just douse herself with it instead.  "You're sure?  What if I miss?"

	"You will not, I have no doubt," her father whispered reassuringly and gave her hand a soft squeeze.  "I have seen  how you throw boulders, let alone rocks.  Do not worry."

	Lyrah's smile widened as she sucked in a deep breath, exhaling sharply before turning her attention to the bonfire herself.  "I think they're almost at a break."

	Drenan followed her gaze and nodded in agreement, watching as a ring of night elves cheered in unison before disbursing.  Patrons quickly gathered around a number of tables and buckets of water, cooling themselves after the sweat-inducing dances, leaving the central bonfire completely unguarded.

	It was now or never.  "Go!" Drenan hissed.

	Lyrah's crouched form shot upright, vial in hand, and as quickly as she could she bolted from her hiding spot.  Perhaps it was her nerves or simply bad luck, but the shaman hadn't noticed the stray branch of her hiding bush that had snagged itself upon her midsummer skirt.  The urgency in her steps was much too strong for the bush to hold the powerful tauren back.  The cloth around her waist however... well, over the span of three steps, a sharp tearing sound was her only warning as the open air suddenly rushed over, under, and all around her suddenly-naked lower half.

	The bottomless bovine couldn't afford a moment's hesitation, however, and with four more steps into the clearing she chucked the vial with all her might, turned on her hoof, and made a beeline straight back for her hiding spot.  The sound of shattering glass echoed out as she dived back into the bush, and in the blink of an eye the clearing had been plunged into darkness, the fire snuffed out in one fell swoop.

	"Fuck!  My skirt!" Lyrah squeaked as she began to fumble through the bush in the darkness, but the few grasps of her hand were met only with brush and bramble.

	The sounds of disgruntled cries rang out from the clearing as the patrons scrambled to try and relight the fire, and Drenan knew it was only a matter of moments before the two of them could be found out.  "There is not time!" Drenan whispered and reached down to grasp his daughter's upper arm, and with a soft grunt he was able to heft her to her hooves with ease.  "Run!"

	Adrenaline shot through Lyrah's veins as instinct took the reins, and the two of them were off through the woods at breakneck speed as the cacophony of angry Alliance cries grew louder.  The taurens' eyes adjusted enough in the darkness to get a better view of their twisted, winding path, and it allowed father and daughter to exchange glances mid-run.  Drenan's face was plastered with giddy glee, and the sentiment seemed contagious enough for Lyrah to return the look as her adrenaline ramped up.

	Neither of them knew enough of the common tongue to understand most of the cries, but there was one phrase that Lyrah very distinctly heard through the hoots and hollers:  "Follow the clinking!"

	"Dad!" the shaman hissed and looked over at him as they ran.  "Your plate is too loud!"

	Drenan's eyes went instantly wide.  It was apparent he hadn't even thought that'd be an issue.  "Shit... you are certain?" he rumbled back.

	Lyrah nodded frantically as she leapt over a fallen log.  "We'll never lose 'em like this!"

	The bull's expression melted into a grimace, but without hesitation he flicked the buckle of his belt open, and with a skillful leap -one that might make an outsider wonder if he'd had practice- the paladin literally leapt out of his leggings and let them clatter to the ground as he ran.  For once, Drenan was the first to end up buck naked, his tool smacking wildly between his thighs, daring not to slow his pace even for a moment.  It was not the most comfortable state, but he had little other choice.

	Lyrah let out a sigh of relief in response, and slowly the cries of the celebrants seemed to grow fainter off in the distance.  "I think we're doing it!" Lyrah dared to eke out, her grin widening despite her increase in perspiration.  "We got this in the ba-" she started, but the last word caught in her throat as another jagged branch was suddenly in front of her.  A sharp squeal escaped her as she threw her arms up in front of her face, unable to stop her momentum as she barreled right into it...

	... and once again, the sound of tearing fabric split the night air.

	Lyrah squeaked sharply and looked down at her suddenly-naked chest.  For once, as she skidded to a brief stop, the reflex of modesty kicked in and caused her to cup both breasts with her three-fingered hands in surprise.  The branch had fortunately missed her actual fur, instead leaving her as naked as her fleeing father, who was now several yards ahead of her.

	Drenan was quick to realize Lyrah wasn't with him, but the second he slowed to look back, the bull nearly got smacked by Lyrah's swinging tits as she blew past him.  To their misfortune, the cries of angry Alliance grew louder once more.  It was clear they'd heard Lyrah's cry all too clearly.

	The tauren couple's chests heaved as they ran.  Even as large and built as their bodies were, Drenan was still quite old, and Lyrah was heavier than she looked.  Their breath and stamina were running thinner than the angry mob's cries were, and the river to the South was further than they would've liked it to be.  "I... dunno... how much... longer..." Lyrah panted as she ran.

	"A... greed..." Drenan gasped, his steps slowing just a touch as he looked frantically through the woods.  Good luck happened to be on their side that night as Drenan caught a fleeting glimpse of a wooden wall off through the trees.  "There!  This way!" he urged and veered sharply to the left.

	Lyrah huffed and puffed as she followed her father's lead.  The couple burst through the line of trees and nearly into a farmer's field as they set their sights on the old-looking barn at its edge.  Drenan wasted no time in bolting to the sliding door, but a brief rattle revealed it to be latched tight.  The shaman grunted in frustration as she skidded to a halt further from the barn, allowing her to catch sight of a glassless window along the barn's side wall.  "Over... here...!" she gasped, her run melting into a half-stagger as she shot for the window.  With her last bit of energy, the naked Lyrah launched herself through the window as best as she could.

	Drenan turned just as Lyrah disappeared around the edge of the building.  The paladin quickly followed her, only to find her legs and rump still sticking out the window, flailing as her weakened upper body struggled to pull herself through.  "Hold still!" he whispered as he shot forward, forcibly fighting back the natural urge for his bullhood to harden as he grabbed hold of his daughter's bare legs, lifted them up, and wheelbarreled her the rest of the way through the window.  Another human cry rang out from the woods mere yards from where Drenan yet stood, and the second Lyrah had gotten herself out of the way he shot through the window and out of sight.

	Without warning, Lyrah's hand shot through the rustling hay to clamp over her father's muzzle, causing them both to freeze in the pile.  "Shhh!" she cautioned, and a mere moment later a group of four humans went bolting past the window, pitchforks and torches in hand.  The tauren kept their heads as low as they could in the pile, their eyes trained on the window for what felt like an eternity.  No one else passed by, but cries could be heard every which way outside the barn.  Tauren tracks weren't hard to keep up with -their naturally heavy bodies made it impossible to keep from leaving some hoofprints- but Midsummer had left much of the farm ground dry and difficult to imprint.  Neither of them had any concept of time any longer, but eventually father and daughter dared to breathe quiet sighs of relief at their temporary reprieve.  "Wow... you used to do that every year?" Lyrah quietly dared to prod.

	Drenan snorted softly and nodded.  "It was a Sunwalker tradition.  Well, maybe not like this," he added and gestured down at his own nudity.  "But two would go snuff out the flames while the other two kept the escape route open.  Our pursuers did not usually use pitchforks though...."

	Lyrah couldn't help but giggle a bit and press herself against her father among the hay pile.  "Well I think I get it now at least.  That was... really fun," she admitted, her cheeks flushed with color.  "I... I kinda think I shoulda even just went in naked to begin with."

	"Oh?" Drenan remarked and glanced his daughter up and down.  It was a sight he'd seen so many times already, but each time was almost more exciting than the last.  "Someone [i]likes[/i] showing off, hmm?"  One of his weathered hands teasingly dared to come to rest on her right thigh, his fingertips ever-so-subtly grazing her hidden nethers... only to find them utterly soaked.

	The shaman's cheeks grew hotter, and with a soft squeak she playfully buried her face further into the hay pile.  "Maybe...?" she admitted and softly tensed her thighs before parting them just a bit....

	... but the gentle rustling of the hay seemed to provoke a renewed cry outside the barn.

	Both father and daughter froze immediately, watching as another group trundled past the window in the opposite direction.  Both tauren were well-buried in the hay, but this time one human seemed to pause and briefly glance through the window.  Lyrah was utterly invisible, and most of Drenan was too... save for the tapered tip of something multicolored that stuck out just an inch from within the pile.  The human's face scrunched up curiously before turning away to follow his companions, leaving the pair uncertain if he'd caught the only hint that they were in there.  "It is not safe," Drenan dared to whisper.  "We must move."

	Lyrah swallowed hard and nodded, feeling even more of her own excited nectar slick her inner thighs.  "I dunno how you're gonna hide that thing," Lyrah teased him quietly, even going as far as to reach out and give his throbbing head a soft squeeze.

	Drenan shuddered beneath the hay as a drop of his precum was squeezed upward to wet his daughter's fingers, and in desperation he began to glance about the barn until he set his sights on their salvation.  "I have an idea.  In there," he whispered, gesturing quietly toward the nearest stable.  Soft rustling sounds could be heard from the rest of them, making Drenan certain it was the only empty one in the barn.

	Lyrah slowly rose up from the hay pile to eye the small stall warily.  Three of the four walls were solid and went all the way to the roof, but the door to the stable still had a small square-shaped hole that one could easily peer through.  "But won't they still see us?"

	"Not if we are clever," Drenan echoed as he shifted into an awkward crouch atop the hay pile.  "Trust me darling, I would not do this if I were not certain it would work."  His hand tenderly reached out to touch his daughter's cheek and look into her mirrored, azure eyes.  "Please?"

	Lyrah didn't really need the convincing, but nonetheless she touched her father's hand and smiled, pulling herself up to follow him into the empty stable.  Drenan pulled the door shut as quietly as he could, but no sooner did the latch click than renewed cries began to head back toward the barn.  The muscular male wasted no time in shoving his head sideways out the hole -his remaining horn did not make it easy- mostly filling the gap to keep Lyrah perfectly concealed within.  The shaman had to stifle a giggle upon seeing her naked father's body arched forward so awkwardly with his hands clinging to the wall for support.  "Will they fall for it?" she dared to whisper near the square hole.