Winter Queen Draft

Scenario 1: Protagonist (Luran - young male Fae) encounters Orinthia

>Approach the door

	With caution, I took a step closer to the door and pressed my ear to the wooden surface, just about making out the sounds of heavy footsteps and rattling chains from the room beyond.

>Enter the room
>Turn back

>Enter the room

	I gripped the door handle and pushed hard, swinging the door open and taking a step forwards into the room. The room has little in the way of decoration, and the sole occupant is a broad shouldered woman draped in animal pelts. At the sound of my clumsy entrance she turns around, already brandishing a wicked looking curved dagger.
	We recognise each other quickly. It's Orinthia, the brash huntress I had met earlier at the party. She wastes little time in offering me a greeting.
	“Huh, it's you,” her tone is hardly affectionate, “What do you want, boy?”

>”I'm just looking around”
>”I'm no boy!”

>”I'm no boy!”

	Offended by her tone, I blurt out a quick retort and hope that my voice is steady enough to make it sound convincing. It gives her pause, causing the feral woman to raise a sceptical eyebrow.
	“Oh yeah?” she taunts, “Talk is cheap, boy, you got anything to back that up?” Sheathing the dagger, she holds her arms open wide, shamelessly exposing her bare chest for all to see.

>Touch her breast
>Slap her face
>Apologise and leave

>Touch her breast

	Mustering my courage, I reach out and grope the muscular woman's heavy breast. Her skin is far softer than I would have expected, and warm with a lusty flush. She doesn't pull away or slap me, so I try squeezing her breast. Her bosom is firm, but yields under my touch. A soft sigh of pleasure escapes the woman and her cheeks redden as both nipples grow hard and stiff.
	Encouraged by this display of pleasure I roll my thumb across her nipple, feeling the nub of flesh spring back once I take my thumb away. Her chest is rising and falling heavily now with the rhythm of her excited breathing.
	“Alright boy, you've got my attention,” Orinthia's voice is low and lusty. Without wasting another word, she steps a little closer and reaches down, one hand pressed to my crotch. Immediately, I feel myself growing harder as she rubs me through the thin layer of my breeches. However, it isn't long before she purses her lips in apparent dissatisfaction and pulls her hand away.
	“Maybe you really are a boy,” she mutters to herself. I feel my cheeks flush with embarrassment as she steps back, shaking off my grip and shrugging her shoulders heavily. The awkward silence is broken by a distant roar, Orinthia's ears perking up at the bestial sound.
	“That sounds more like it,” the barbarian grins and starts off, before turning and giving me a mocking grin, “Better luck next time, boy.”