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“Like the night mist twining itself about the hills and hollows of the land, he enfolded her then, his mouth softly fierce upon her lips, her breasts, her belly as he led her up a wending mountain path of the Northland, past fairy rings and elfin trees to a place where Thor's hammer, Mjöllnir, split the heavens asunder, and Rhowenna knew she soared higher than the gods in Asgard before floating gently back to earth, to drift like a swan upon a wild Northland mere” — Rebecca Brandewyne
Like
the night mist twining itself about the hills and hollows of the land, he
enfolded her then, his mouth softly fierce upon her lips, her breasts, her
belly as he led her up a wending mountain path of the Northland, past fairy
rings and elfin
trees to a place where Thor's hammer, Mjöllnir, split the heavens asunder, and
Rhowenna knew she soared higher than the gods in Asgard before floating gently
back to earth, to drift like a swan upon a wild Northland mere