The Hunt tale of three stories

Fallen snow lays where she fell

the villagers do not know her name

and so the call her snow white for the color of her skin

and so she only sleeps

no trouble is she to you

for a hundred years she sleeps

for no princes love is true


1. Hunter

There she stood before him, she was everything he had heard. Hair like the night skies, or perhaps the feather of a raven. Her eyes were ice, her skin was white as cream, some people called it a snow white color. Her lips were lip red wine or maybe the blood that stained her hand. Fallen Snow, princesses of the Assassins. She had a black eye, that one eye was completely swollen shut. She had tears in her simple wench dress, and she was had several cuts all over. One of which still dripped blood. She wore handcuff made of gold heavy and the dragged at her wrists. On her thick leather girdle two heavy chains were attached. held by the guards that flanked her.

She looked defiantly at the queen "My cloak?"

"What make you think you can come in her and demand thinks?" The queen arched an eyebrow. "tell me were the Assassins camp is, and I'll give your your cloak."

"Doubtful, you have a habit of making empty promises. Now look, you may have denied me my rightful throne, but I did not think you would deny me my cloak. Now I'm am going to go die today, I will die with that cloak on my shoulders, or before I die I will release the magic inside me and this realm will burn to ash."

"The queen pursed her lips, "Bring the cloak, it will do us no harm."

The Red Assassin smiled a sardonic smile. A young guard hurried in with a red cloak. Hr expression soften as she saw the fear on his face. She sighed. "My blade will never touch your heart in the dead of night. It is not you that I hate." he drapped the cloak over her shoulder with all due haste and ran off. She smiled. She lifted her shackled hand and buckled the cloak. As she dropped her hands All her wounds disappeared. Her eyes locked with his for the fist time. "Let us go...woodsman."

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