It had been a long time since a man had entered Eira’s lair. There once was a time when she had her pick of soldiers, hunters, and axe men. Every night a different delicacy to satisfy her appetite, sometimes more than one. She would whisper temptations through the wind, leading them deeper into the forest. Only to realize too late they were trapped like the animals they may have been hunting.She would slate her lust, her prey often a willing participant, for she was a winter beauty. But once her desire was fulfilled, the nymph devoured her mate and set about finding another to satisfy her.
Now all men wanted to do were play with gadgets and gizmos in the civilized cities. Eira had to wait patiently for a man who decided to reconnect with nature. They were never built to her standards — too scrawny, too pale, too whinny — but they would do to sustain her lust. Often carrying packs and wearing ridiculous patches over their ears, she would have to drum up a gust to send their covering flying before she could use her song to lead them deep into her trap. Her minions would take care of the trappings while she attempted to charm these less willing hikers.
Chilling winds bite
Into uncovered ears