“She ran away, occasionally turning around and laughing. Teasing, deliberately inflaming the ancient instinct of a predator in him. The white hem splashed in the wind like a fox's tail. Naked feet flashed, throwing up bloody coppers of aspen leaves. And the prince pursued his prey, pursued without pity. He walked like an animal towards the alluring tart smell of a living animal, sweetish and hot. And passion, dark and greedy, akin to rage, clouded his eyes. Like a broad-browed young hound dog, he flew in the crystal coolness of the autumn forest, guided by only one desire - not to lose sight of the light dress and cloud of red hair flashing ahead..."