Snowbeast

He had to keep on going. It was too important for him, for all of them, that he didn't stop. On through the snow, the flurries of the blizzard sticking to his hair and blotting out the world, he had to place one foot in front of the other. Each step sunk into perfectly-white snow drifts, bringing with them the possibility to stumble and fall. Every breeze was a lance of cold that pierced his thick cloak. He could feel his fingers and his toes, but only in icy, almost-numb pain.

He'd forgotten long ago just how far it was he had yet to travel. His horse, along with most of his supplies, had been lost as soon as this storm had struck, spinning and tearing out of nowhere and turning the entire world white. He only had the letter, sealed with a purple seal, the most important letter he had ever been courier to. It was held between his hands with a death grip.

In between moments of fleeting conscious, where he'd try to see where he was, if he was in the Forest of Dolusth or still on the chilly plains that separated them from the raging North Sea, he got the sense of being watched. It was as if something was waiting for him to stumble, waiting for him to crash into the snow and give up. But this letter was too important for that! He had to keep going! He had to keep going! He had to keep going...

* * *

Balthus groaned and rolled over. Something thick and warm was covering him, and the crackle and heat of a fire was next to him. Had he made it to somewhere hospitable? Was the letter in good hands?

He twitched his eyes open. He was laying under a thick wool cover next to a lit fire pit, its unattended fire dancing warmly and happily and smoke spiraling up and out of a hole in the roof.

Balthus struggled upright and looked about. He was in the center of a long single-room house, with a roof maybe ten feet tall at its center, but steeply angled so that it nearly hit the ground at the walls. Thick boards of wood were fitted together closely, any potential gaps covered with dried mud, to form a thick plating against the shrieking cold outside. There were several chests inlaid with the ornate curved carvings of the Northfolk close to the walls, and a shaggy lump with antlers sticking out of it seemed to indicate a caribou hide was laid over an additional chest far towards the back wall.

Turning around to face a short side, Balthus found a door barred against the outside, with a window on either side of it and a panel of wood as a shutter. An axe was propped up against the wall next to the door.

Where was the letter? Balthus threw the thickly-woven cover off himself and dug around. It didn't look like he had been touched. His fine shirt and pants were still on him, and his heavy cloak and hat was nearby. But the letter wasn't next to him. Lifting and rooting through his cloak did not reveal the letter either.

Maybe it was by or in one of the chests? Balthus stood up, but a rustling attracted his attention. The shaggy covering with the antlers stood up and said in a womanly voice, "You are awake? Thank goodness."

Balthus froze as the woman turned around. She was utterly naked, but it didn't seem to bother her. Not much would, in all probability, as the woman was inhuman. Taller than Balthus by little under a head, the woman had warm brown eyes and gentle features, but a rack of antlers, like an elk's, grew from her head while a thick, shaggy mane of fur grew from her head and down her back. The thick fur grew down her arms up to her four-fingered hands with their thick nails and down her legs, which were similar to that of a elk's as well, if thicker and bulkier, ending in large hooves. Thinner fur spread down her nose and across her chest and belly, thickening near her crotch into a furry thatch, but leaving her breasts and the upper part of her stomach bare. She was rather nicely curved, with wide hips and large pear-shaped breasts, but her nonhumanity seemed to take precedence.

There were nonhumans back home, but they were mostly the snooty elvish or joyless dwarven diplomatic relations or the general goblin riffraff. The kingdom of Drosk was enjoyably free of the likes of orcs or worse. It only had its neighbors to deal with.

"Are you all right?'' the shaggy woman asked, breaking Balthus out of his daze.

"Huh? Ye-yes. Just, well, I've seemed to have lost my way a bit," Balthus confessed.

"I found you in the snowstorm. What were you doing by yourself? It is too dangerous to approach the Forest of Dolusth in winter, even this late into the season," the woman asked.

''I need to deliver a letter of grave importance to the Northern Kingdom of Olskaff. I don't suppose you have it?"

"No. When I found you, there was no letter. It may have been blown away by the storm."

Balthus paled. "You don't understand! That letter is of vital importance!"

The woman lowered her head and looked away. "I'm sorry, but I didn't see any letters. I only found you and brought you here."

"Where is here, anyways?" Balthus asked, looking around the room for anything he may have missed.

"This house is on the edge of the Forest of Dolusth. It used to be a hunter's camp, but that was long ago. I have repaired it to the best of my skill, and it is now shelter for anybody who must come through the storms," the woman answered. "I am Willia."

Balthus looked at Willia, trying to place what she was, exactly. The beastly folk followed the conventions of nature closer, and thus no woman would have antlers. The fey were likier, but they were capricious indeed, and did not much like the cold. "Pardon me, but what are you?" he asked, hoping to sound polite.

"I am of the Snowfolk, traveling south during the winters as the cold makes the lands more comfortable," Willia answered. She walked closer to the fire and sat down with a heavy thump.

Snowfolk? Those were a legend, abominable beasts that waylaid travelers during blizzards and making off with them, never to be seen again! Nobody in Drosk had ever seen one, though antlers had made the rounds in traveling sideshows.

"Um, do you mind?" Balthus asked, pointing at Willia's bared breasts. Her pink nipples stood out from her pale skin brilliantly, drawing his eyes like they were wonderful flowers, and a growing tightness in his pants made him aware of how pleasant they were.

"No. I and my kind are immune to cold," Willia said. She took out a short metal pole from besides the fire and poked at the logs in it. "Forgive me, but I am unawares of the nations of this world. What is the matter between Drosk and Olskaff?"

Balthus sat down, drawing the his heavy cloak closer. "I am from Drosk. Olskaff is our northernmost neighbor, but we share the same fishing grounds. To further complicate things, raiders of Olskaffian nature keep on attacking our villages. I've been sent with a call for diplomacy. I'm not a diplomat, but I am to see if Olskaff is open to it. The contents of that letter were about my king's request, including a letter of authenticity. If I do not return or am harmed by them, it is likely that Drosk will go to war with Olskaff."

"Why did you not take a boat?" Willia asked.

"The sea is far too unkind in winter. It would've been impossible."

Willia hummed and nodded in understanding. "I suppose it is vital to your people, then."

"The people are crying out for something. Many want retribution, but with seas like that, only the Olskaff can navigate them safely. This route is the only safe way for us Droskians."

Willia drew her knees up and looked towards the door. "I would not want a war down here. Though the violence between your peoples is frightening, there are far worse things that may take advantage of them, ones that don't care for letters."

"I fear for the future as well. Hopefully, the letter can be found, but I cannot search for it until the blizzard dies down," Balthus said.

They sat in silence for some time, the crackling fire keeping them company. Willia stood up abruptly, her antlers dangerously close to the ceiling. "We need more firewood if you are to stay warm here. I will try to search for your letter while I am out."

She walked to the door and grabbed the axe. "Please bar the door behind me. I will call out and knock once I return."

"Why?" Balthus asked.

"As I have said, there are far worse things out there," Willia replied. She grabbed the board and hefted it off, letting it land with a thump on the floor. The wind shrieked and howled to get in, gusts of cold pouring into the house as Willia opened the door. She ducked out, bending to avoid getting her antlers caught on the doorframe, and closed the door.

Balthus stood up and walked to the door. It was much, much chillier away from the fire. He picked up the heavy board with both hands, staggering as he lifted it, and blocked the door. Willia was stronger than he was, almost embarrassingly so! She didn't fear the winter storms, and it was likely that neither bear nor wolf would dare prey on her. But Balthus had sensed the apprehension in her voice.

It was likely that she was afraid for him! That was a shock. Balthus would've expected a Snowfolk to keep to their own people, and not concern themselves with the fragile folk who eked out livings in the north. But how many frozen bodies had she seen, too late to save from the cold and the ice? How many blue-black limbs locked in death, how many gaunt bodies? Balthus supposed she had every right to cherish human life when she could find it.

The hours dragged on. In that time, Balthus had looked through the chests. Most were occupied with thick sheets and coverings, though one was reserved for dried vegetables. Willia didn't have a whole lot of tools stored, and Balthus had lost any he once had.

Bored and desperate, Balthus swung open one of the window shutters. Miraculously, Willia had managed to place cheap glass panes in the windows, preventing the tumultuous snowfall from shooting into the house. But the outside was a blurring, snow-filled haze. He couldn't see much of anything.

Actually, hold on, there was something there. Out in the distance, there was a figure standing in the blizzard. Too far to be distinct, Balthus couldn't tell if it was Willia. They were just standing there, though. They weren't moving at all, ignoring the howling storm around them. How unnervingly strange! Did another snowfolk travel down with Willia? If Balthus was in the same home as somebody else's wife, he'd have a lot more to worry about than the letter!

Balthus shut the shutter after a while and went back to the fire. That presence outside just was not comforting. The faster this storm died and the faster he got the letter, the better.

* * *

It was almost another hour before Balthus heard Willia's voice. "It's me, Willia. You can let me in," she said.

He struggled with the wooden board again, letting it clatter on to the floor, and Willia opened the door. She had the axe in one hand, and under her other arm, she held a copious collection of sticks and chopped logs, many more that Balthus could expect himself to be able to handle.

Willia stepped, daggers of cold following her and driving into Balthus' skin. She dropped the axe and carried the logs close to the smoldering fire pit, letting them tumble into a haphazard pile.

Balthus pushed the door close, struggling against the prevailing wind and hoisting up the board back to the barred position. "Did you find the letter?" Balthus asked.

Willia tossed a few sticks into the fire pit and sat next to it. "I could barely see the trees in front of me," she commented. "That letter may be lost for eternity. I hope that you can complete your job without it."

"Only if the Olskaffs are friendly, and I doubt that because of their raiders," Balthus said as he returned to the warm, welcoming fire.

Willia fell into silence, letting the crackle of the flames and howl of the outside weather be the only sounds. Occasionally, Willia would twitch and resettle herself, or reach over to a nearby stick and put it into the fire. She was within an arm's reach of Balthus when he realized she was getting closer to him.

Balthus shifted uncomfortably, glancing at Willia occasionally. She didn't hide her body out of any kind of shame or cold. She smelt, not of some stinking beast, but of crisp snow and pine. Her breasts heaved with each breath she took, pushing those pink nipples out. If Balthus was more lecherous, he could reach out and squeeze them. He was tempted to do so, and much more, feeling the tight ache in his pants that he blocked from her sight with his arms.

What's more, she was glancing at him, then looking away awkwardly. It was as if she was expecting something! The tension was growing like ice on a lake.

Finally, Willia broke the silence. "Are you not interested?" she asked, leaning back and looking at Balthus.

"Huh?" Balthus asked, his eyes magnetizing to her chest, then to her warm face.

"We are alone, in this cabin. I myself have been alone for so very long. I know I ache for company. Do you not as well? Are you frigid? Do you not want to take advantage of me?" Willia continued.

"Pardon me, ma'am, but I am afraid that I am unfamiliar with your terminology," Balthus said, feeling the heat rush to his cheeks in embarrassment.

Willia leaned in, her warm breath dancing on Balthus' cheek. "I want you," she whispered.

"I know you throb for me. I know that you love the naked body of women. You are so funny, trying to hide your hardness when I can almost smell it on you. You could take care of it, plunging it into me and making us both happy. All you need to do is want for it." Willia's hand crept in between Balthus' thighs, and her fingers were gently stroking the strained fabric at his groin.

She was beautiful. The silkiness of her hair, the flawlessness of her skin. He wanted her! He wanted to see her spread her legs for him, to accept him into her body and feel her warmth. "Aye, I want for it," Balthus said.

Willia stood up. From down on the floor, Balthus could see her wet, open sex. The lips weren't as furred as the thatch in front of it suggested, instead being lined by fine, thin fur, looking softer than silk.

Balthus got to his feet and quickly removed his shirt. Underneath it, his fit body's only blemish was an arrow scar on one shoulder, a memory of a less friendly encounter. His pants and undercloth quickly followed his shirt, piled casually on the floor. Without it, his long, thick member was free, its red head pointing at Willia.

Willia ducked in for a kiss before Balthus could do anything. Her soft lips encompassed his, her antlers nearly smacking into Balthus' head. They were warm, working with his as he caught up. A soft four-fingered hand wrapped around his penis and stroked it experimentally, then dived behind and cupped his ballsack.

She broke the kiss and walked, hips swaying, to a chest. Willia bent over it, placing her palms on it, and spread her legs. Her swollen sex was dripping fluid, the puckered star of her anus above it. The invitation was clear.

Balthus walked to behind Willa and rested his hands on her unfurred asscheeks, making Willia peep. They were surprisingly soft, but underneath the cushioning fat, he could feel powerful muscles rest.

He rubbed his cock experimentally against her thigh. Her fur was silky smooth, her skin equally so. Only the elvish had such smooth skin! Balthus guided his member to Willia's sex with a hand. Her soft inner-flesh, pink like her nipples, was wonderous! The tip of Balthus' phallus was numb with excitement, his length rigid and lusting.

Eagerly, Balthus slid inside Willia. Her body resisted his thrust, her velvety flesh groping his cock with a silky grip. As his cock's base hit Willia's sex, Willia gave off a low moan and shivered in delight.

The heat from her body was as if Balthus stood in front of a fire nude, yet her lips held a juice-soaked grip on his cock, velvet flesh pressed against his length. Massaging her buttocks, Balthus experimentally slid out until his head was barely in her slit. The passage was a pleasurable blessing, joy rubbed into him as his skin ran against her inner flesh. Her hold on him was firm, but allowed him the freedom of movement he needed.

Balthus pushed back in, admiring the way Willia's sex held him and stroked him with such wondrous feeling. Easily to the hilt, yet tight and enticing, she warmed him and sent shivers of pleasure into his body.

He needed to feel more. Balthus set into a regular pattern, pulling out and thrust back into Willia. Her warmth melted him with sensation, her sex hugging him. With each pass, hot pressure from the pleasure built up.

Every pull back and every thrust forward shocked Balthus' spine, his body embraced by numbing joy. His prick dived in and out of her slit, wet with her juices, his hips slapping against her ass. It felt like his cock would explode, but Balthus wanted more.

In a fit of lust, Balthus' hands shot forward and grabbed the back of Willia's antlers. She gasped in shock, and for a moment, Balthus felt a nearly overwhelming pull as Willia's head twitched forward in surprise. Then, she relaxed, accepting the kinky situation and leaning back towards Balthus. With those muscles of hers, Willia could easily rip herself out of his grasp any time she wanted.

With a new grip on his lover, Balthus pulled back out and slammed into Willia. His cock plunged in as deep as it could, raking along Willia's sensitive walls. His hips slapped against Willia's buttocks as he retreated and plunged in again and again. She moaned as his length passed into her, evidently feeling the spot where her innermost pleasure grew the most touched again and again by Balthus' invasion.

One of Willa's hands darted between her thighs, and Balthus could feel his virile sack slap against her fingers as she touched her clit. Her moans echoed around the cabin, surpassing the concentrated grunts of Balthus as he experienced her body.

It felt like his cock would explode and melt at the same time! Balthus' urge to come, to splatter Willia's insides with his seed, was growing and inevitable. He slowed down his poundings, to try and reclaim lost ground but only lusted more!

Before long, his fevered humps were slowing, going for length instead of speed. He could feel it. The seed was running up his phallus, aiming to burst inside her sex. The pleasure, insurmountable, the pressure, unbeatable!

With one final jerking motion, Balthus planted his prick as far as he could into Willia, and groaned in relief as he released. Orgasmic pleasure coursed through him as his member twitched and spat out milky white cum into Willia's hot recesses.

It was only a passing moment more before he felt Willia's hole clamp down on him, trying to milk him for his seed, and she broke out into a long, bleating sigh. As his orgasm passed, Balthus found himself trapped in the orgasm of Willia. He felt her insides twitch and seize and saw her breasts jiggle as she came.

After a time spent inside her pleased body, Balthus felt the grip on his member relax, and he pulled out and collapsed next to the fire. A drop of his cum dribbled out of Willia as she lay on the boxes.

With a sigh, Willia stood up and grabbed a log. She put it on the fire, then sat down next to Balthus. She remained silent as she gazed into the fire.

Balthus broke the silence. "When do you think the blizzard will let up?" he asked.

"Do you still hope for the letter, and for peace?" Willia returned.

"It is better than nothing."

"I can tell you that I do not know when the blizzard will let up. It is... unnatural. There is a being out there that is causing it, and she is cruel and evil," Willia answered.

"She?" Balthus pressed.