Soon after her departure, icy snow falls down from the dark scary sky. While walking, the princess lend a hand in front of her, a white almost grey flake lands in it, turning brightly white.
- Like me. I am snow white. I was pure. I am still pure, she whispers to herself.
Her crotch only tingles a bit now from what she had... suffer, no, live. She had kind of like it. This forbidden orgasm, was it really that good? She liked it and she feels ashamed about it. She tries to focus her thoughts on others matters. She put a hand
on a tree to help her climbing a hill, and it starts to crackle from inside, as if a fire is set inside, buds growing up on the branch. Fire of life is well caught in the tree as she leaves it behind her, putting her hand on an other tree and, after she has
climb up the hill, it was pretty clear which way she took it as a row of greened trees thorn the corrupted hill in two halves.
As they climb down the hill, they hear trees being snatch down to the ground as a deep, animal-like scream is being heard that both frighten and excited the young woman. The wolf takes position in front of her, its body ready to jump, growling more and more
loudly. Still coming toward them, between the trees, she sees a distubing huge shadow. When finally she realized what it is, she feels fascinated, troubles and scared.
Before her eyes, a huge moose was standing, head up, sniffing the air, then looking in her. Its body is massive, his wood on its head, majestuously large. Snow would have find it beautiful. But there is its grey-blank eyes, a sticky sick green substance on
its fur and, worst of all, the more it looks at her, the more its flesh of desire grows bigger. He she thoughts that the huntsman has a monstruous dick, this one is not far from a hellish one.
The wolf barks and howls, but for the moose, fear is less important than to have the opportunity to copulate with a pure being, something very rare in this lands and that brings great amount of unspoken pleasure. The moose will never be able to put that thing
in her, but it doesn't know it, nor does it care. There is unstained flesh, and that is all that matter.
As for the wolf, it knows that it doesn't stand a chance in front of this animal. Even a whole hounds of wolves would not dare do attack this great beast, but it has to protect her, no matter what, and it tries to tell her to flee. And even if she doesn't speak
its language, she feels it, understands it, and she runs as fast as she can, those huge boots, keeping her from cold, slows her down, and as the wolf jumps in an attempt to bite the leg of the moose who only sees her and trots toward her, she sees in front
of her a swamp. Already exausted, she put all her might to join this what she hopes haven.
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