It was the sound of splashing water that called him to the glade. He heard it echoing off the rocks of the stream as he hunted in the yellow dappled light of the woods. His hunt so far having been fruitless, he turned keenly toward the sound, sharp eyes peering through the brush, ears straining, sifting through the sighs of the leaves and the stalks of grass that bent in the wind.
He crept forward, muscles tense, and silently notched his arrow and drew his bow. His feet made no sound as he padded over the damp soil, creeping through the bush. He peered around the branches, ready to take aim at the creature in the stream. That was when he saw her.
It was only a young woman, from the village, no doubt, splashing in the water. Had she not heard the stories? Did she not know that it was dangerous for a woman to come alone to bathe in these silver pools? He scanned the opposing bank for signs of a companion or a guard and saw none. She was truly alone. He let his bowstring fall slack and knelt, placing it on the ground.
He watched her intently for a moment as she splashed the cold water over her arms and face. She looked around nervously, as if she could feel his eyes burning against his skin, but he knew he was too well hidden for her to spy. He watched as she unclothed herself to her waist, pulling open the laces of her bodice, and folding it neatly on the bank. Even from this distance, he could see the peaks of her nipples, dimpling the thin fabric of her shift. He shifted uncomfortably, as she pulled loose the drawstring at the top and pushed the flimsy cloth down over her shivering shoulders.
He could feel his own excitement growing underneath his skin, the blood beating faster, his muscles tensing. He took a deep breath to steady himself and his nose was filled with the scent of soil and leaf and sharp water. Underneath their bright odors was another, the warm human musk of the her, rich with the scent of her perfumed hair and skin. He flinched against its intrusion and clenched his fist against the damp earth, knowing that his body was preparing himself for a decision he had not yet made.
She did not seem to realize the danger she was in, the stupid wench. She had peeled down the material of her shift and was unclothed to her waist. He watched as she knelt, pale hair falling over bare shoulder, and splashed the crystal water against her skin. She straightened, and dropped her hand, letting the water run over her shoulders and between her breasts. It dripped down her clavicle, leaving a silver trail that clung to her breasts, beading against her flesh like an early morning dew.
He admired the beads that shone on her soft skin, and jealously watched as she splashed herself again, letting the water spill over her pink nipples. The droplets slid under the heavy curve of her breasts, trickling towards her navel. She was trembling in the chilly air, and he imagined that he could see the goosebumps that were raised on her skin as the wind played with her light blonde hair, fanning it slightly in the breeze.
He realized now that his own skin was suddenly too hot in the early autumn air, though his fingers felt cold. He felt himself stirring, the blood pumping more excitedly through his veins. A fire was rising in his stomach and he felt the flames push themselves lower into his abdomen and out to the tip of his cock, which was waking now, coming to life from where it had rested heavily only a moment before against the bare muscles of his thigh.
He silently stripped himself of the quiver that had been strapped to his naked back and laid it on the ground beside the bow. Still crouching, he crept lower, the scent of her filling his nose. He did not make a sound or remove his eyes from her as he exited the cover of the trees, stalking towards the stream. She was half turned now, occupied with unlacing her skirt and sliding it down over her narrow hips.
He supposed that it must have been the movement which finally caught her eye, for he had still made no sound, even as he had entered the water, cold and shocking as it was against his bare flesh. Her round lips fell open into a most appealing "oh," and she froze in her movements, throwing her arms over her exposed breasts, even as the waist of her gown fell lower around her pubic bone. He watched its progress with interest.
Although shocked, she did not scream and she did not turn to flee, even though he knew the sight of his white horns and nakedness must have shocked her. She stood frozen on the bank even as he made his few last steps through the water, exiting to stand almost at her side.
Her mouth fumbled for words, though she found none. He watched the emotions play across her face. Shock, perhaps fear, and was that excitement that he sensed? He took a hesitant step forward, and sniffed the air around her, hoping for a clue in her scent. It was then that she chose to run. She was no match for him. He was an excellent hunter and within two bounds had thrown his strong arm around her waist.
He yanked her hard against his body, and clapped a hand over her mouth before she thought to scream. He did not fancy the idea of having the entire village rushing to hunt the demon that haunted the nearby woods. He had worked carefully to shape the world around him here, terrorizing the nearby humans just enough that they left him in peace, hidden from their prying eyes. He tightened his arms around the wench. He would not release her until she explained her business here, intruding into his carefully protected territory.
She struggled against him and the feeling of her squirming flesh against his erect cock was almost more tempting than he dared admit. He gasped into her blonde hair and shuddered as her wriggling caused the waist of her skirt to slip even lower, exposing the curve of her buttocks. His arms were light iron around her, and she quickly gave up her struggling. As her trashing stilled, he tried to ignore the feeling of his hard cock settling against the curves of her plump cheeks.
Slowly, he released the hand he had clapped over her mouth and pulled it against her neck, up to her hair. He curled his fingers in her silken locks and pulled her head back towards him, resting the other hand over her flat belly. He sighed into the nape of her neck, and felt the pulse in her throat beat wildly against his lips. He felt as if he was becoming drunk on the soft smell of her skin. "What are you doing out here? Alone?" he growled. The words felt heavy in his mouth. He was not sure how long it had been since he had last spoken.
