North-east to the Great Forest.

On an impulse, she picked the tallest tree she could find and scrambled up it, ignoring Queiss’s muttered inquiry as to whether she was half elf or half squirrel. From its top she could look out over the vast sea of green that was the Great Forest. She’d seen the same view from high trees in the village where she’d grown up. Now the deep, mysterious woodland seemed to be calling to her. She wondered if it was her mother’s elven blood, stirring in her veins.

Highly unlikely, given her ancestors had been city dwellers as far back as could be remembered. No, although she was curious about her wood elf cousins, the real appeal of forest was the ancient magical secrets lost within. Secrets that would grant her vast power – and, a more immediate concern, secrets that would allow her to remove the enchantment on her pussy, and let her lose her virginity and properly take her pleasure from a man. It was perhaps that promise, the release from the unfulfilled carnal longings that kept her awake most nights, that was most appealing.

She set off northeast. There were no roads in the Great Forest bigger than the occasional trail – it was said the trees moved to block larger paths, either of their own will or shepherded by malicious witches or dryads. But at least here the going was easy, with very little undergrowth to hinder her path.

But as night began to fall, with the trees blocking the descending sun and filling the forest with thick shadows, she began to wonder nervously where she was going to sleep. She knew nothing about woodland survival, she realised. And he mind drifted back to the horror stories she’d heard about creatures that dwelt within the woods – minotaurs, werewolves, ogres, ghouls, wicked fae… the list seemed endless.

So concerned was she over legendary, supernatural dangers that she forgot to watch her step. A share closed round her ankles, and the next moment she was dangling upside-down from a tree branch. She took a moment to thank the gods that she’d opted for trousers rather than a skirt – otherwise the hem would now be over her eyes and she’d be showing the world her underwear. But that was a small consolation when she asked herself the obvious question – who had set the trap?