Witchbusters
The frigid North wind was cutting into Gabriela's slender middle like a pointed dagger sharpened by one of the demon horde. She was loath to give it more than a barely noticeable hunch of her softly curved shoulders lest she be seen as a weak-kneed cunt unable to brave the elements. Her legs were sensibly encased in a leather sheath of the supplest of sheepskins and she wore a tunic trimmed with the fur of a devilish little fox that had made away with a precious chicken in the middle of the...