Pausing beside a small spring leaking down the stone wall, he scents again, shaking his head in anger at realising that it is a male in his home, not ... female to take his pleasure with before feasting on. Huffing and grinding his horns on the wall in preparation of hunting another meal, the beast pays no heed to the small black scorpion that runs along the wall and down its horn. Turning the minotaur moves more slowly down the tunnel, knowing every twist and turn, having had many many years to. I'm her man, shethought; then stopped herself.What an idiotic thing to think! Mavis was gutter trash. Useful for agood rutting and not much else. But Ann did have to admit; she'denjoyed herself with the lass.Once she was fully alone, she hunted round until she found paper andink. It was cheap - nothing like the water stained and scentedstationery she was used to - but it would have to do.She sat down to write the note.Dere Hary.She paused, looking at what she'd written. No. That wasn't right.. More

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