Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
If you would like to provide constructive feedback, or have any questions, please send an e-mail via the contact tab on my profile.
*****
Girn was trudging back to his shelter after a fruitless hunt when it began to snow heavily again, the wind howling and pulling the snowflakes into a blizzard. The snow became thick quickly but this was no hindrance for his strength. The seven and a half feet barbarian easily pulled his feet from the deep snow and walked on.
He made it back to his small camp where he had constructed a temporary shelter from fallen branches, covered with leaves, moss and other foliage. He couldn't light a fire in this increasing snowstorm thus walked past his fire pit. Stepping into his shelter, he wedged his door of bark firmly into the entrance. Pulling a wolf pelt over his bare torso, Girn rubbed his hands together to stop the numbness setting in.
With the ability to see only ten feet ahead in the heavy snowfall, there was nothing else he could do but to sit it out. The cold drained his energy and the fatigue from travelling and hunting made Girn drowsy. Not soon after he had pulled an extra bear pelt closer, he fell asleep in his cocoon of growing warmth.
His thoughts travelled back to the village he left three weeks ago, to the beautiful woman Kaylie with whom he had spent many nights before venturing further north. He dreamed about her large bust heaving as she bounced on top of him, her charming smile as she fucked him and her delicate moans as they climaxed simultaneously. One night in particular played in his head, the night he had positioned himself behind Kaylie to take her on all fours. He had slid his slick cock between her ass cheeks to tease her before penetration. The head of his large tool rested against her puckered asshole and before Girn could even think about changing plans and pushing into her tightest hole, Kaylie had reached back and guided his cock to her pussy.
"I'm not ready for that, yet," she had said. "Certainly not for your size."
Girn had taken that comment as a compliment, especially the mentioning of 'yet' had made him enthusiastic about what future visits to that village, and Kaylie in particular, could bring.
The wind was howling louder than ever and often pulled Girn from his brief hibernation and satisfying thoughts. The pitch of shrieking air hurling through the forest continuously changed and . . . What was that?
Girn strained his ears. A howl on the wind or the howling wind itself? He waited and listened. Nothing . . . Shaking his head, he closed his eyes again.
". . . stay away . . ."
Girn jolted up, shedding his warm and comfortable covering, instantly alert. There was a voice on the wind, no mistaking it now, but only a few words reached him.
". . . leave me . . . not wronged you . . . stay away . . ."
The voice was faint. Girn knew no fear but he could recognize it in the voices of others. Someone was out there in the storm, afraid and helpless. Many considered him a savage, a brute from a barbaric tribe, but that's what they saw from the outside. Under his hard exterior, Girn had a sense of honor and morality, an instinctive duty to protect those in need of help.
He pushed the door outwards, creating a small avalanche of snow rolling from the roof into his shelter. Greataxe in hands, Girn crawled out into the fury of the snowstorm, the freezing wind like a knife cutting against his chest and back. He grunted and took some steps forward, scanning the surrounding forest, now covered in a thick blanket of snow.
"Who's there?" Girn's deep voice rumbled but his words were quickly scattered by the strong wind.
Something shifted in the blizzard. Right there, in front of him. A vague shape momentarily visible but disappearing in a canvas of white. He pushed against the strong, icy wind towards where he thought the shape had been. He almost stumbled over her before noticing her, huddled in a ball against the cold, seemingly unconscious. The figure was small and naked, skin very pale. A young human or maybe an Elven girl, it was hard to tell with snowflakes aggressively whipping around him and attacking his eyes.
He crouched down to pick her up and only then noticed the other shapes moving just beyond his vision. The leather handle of the greataxe creaked in his tight grip as he rose and stood over the unconscious body of the young female.
Into his vision stepped four wolves, large grey beasts with clear yellow eyes, staring at him intently. They slowly encircled him as their growling grew louder.
The first wolf jumped, toothy maw aimed at his throat. Girn had been waiting and swung his greataxe upwards, connecting with the neck and using the wolf's momentum to throw the beast overhead against a nearby tree. The bestial whine was loud, the crack of vertebrae even louder and silence followed.
Two other wolves attacked at the same time. One clawing towards Girn's neck, but easily knocked back with a well-aimed punch. The other trying to dig its canines into his thigh but also knocked back with a knee to the skull. Both wolves were dazed and unable to dodge the overhead swing that slashed both their sides open, intestines spilling on the ground and melting the snow in a red puddle.
The last wolf had cunningly waited and attacked now that Girn's back was turned towards the beast. As the wolf leaped, Girn let go of his greataxe and turned around, just in time to grab the wolf's head firmly in his strong hands and with one solid twist broke the wolf's neck and back. He threw the limp cadaver away and overlooked the scene. The spilled blood and warm intestines strewn about were melting the snow, but the wind cooled their remains quickly and as Girn walked back with the young woman over his shoulder, the wolves were buried beneath a white cover, the forest serene again in its whiteness.
*
"My name is Aryana," she answered. The young girl wasn't young or a girl, and neither human nor Elf. Aryana was a Forest Nymph and had been on this world for many years already. She had been naked when Girn had found her but now she had wrapped herself in pelts and sat close to the fire. The snowstorm had died down and they were sitting comfortably around the fireplace. Some color had returned to her skin and Girn noticed the green hue on her face and hands.
"What is a Forest Nymph doing in the middle of a snowstorm?"
"The Elders tell many tales and in an urge of curiosity I ventured outside the safety of our grove. I was set upon by wolves and got lost in the snowstorm when attempting to flee the beasts." Her voice sounded calm, even when a shiver travelled through her body.
"You're still cold," Girn observed and threw another log into the fire pit.
