The snort of a fox I'd met two days before - he and I walking in opposite directions on the same narrow path - the snort of his irritation at my arrog...nce to be on the same piece of ground as him at this time of the morning. His arrogance at my presence, his eyes meeting mine, then, hardly even looking at me a second time he slipped past me - still walking and disappeared the way I had come. An encounter of maybe ten seconds. This morning it had been an otter - tomorrow?But that morning almost. He pulled away to look at her, his hands holding her arms aloft so he could see her heavy round breasts, their puffy rosy nipples beckoning him, the swelling of her hips with the small triangle of dark curls in their center. He admired her smooth skin, pale and glowing next to the long dark waves of her hair. Aye, ye are the most beautiful woman in all these parts my little dove, he whispered. He was always gentle with her, never whipping her when she was out of line, as he sometimes did the. More

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