Defying all laws of physics, the flimsy walls of the tent withstood the explosion of lust.

Fortunately, as a way of enhancing his proximity to nature, Christian had not zipped up his tent. Their bodies tumbled inside, onto the soft bed of moss on which Christian slept. The moistness of the lichen tickled Anastasia's senses, stimulating every element of her being, and one in particular.

Christian tore Anastasia's clothes from her, the ensuing arousal was doused only by the thought of how wasteful it was to ruin items that nature had been destroyed to make. He greeted her body as though it were twenty-two dollar smashed avocado with a side of matcha chai spiced soy latte. He so desperately wanted to consume her, let her body seep into every one of his pores. He clenched her waist between his hands and wrenched her beneath him. Revelling in the ferocity that he had not acted on since achieving herbivorous salvation.

No longer able to contain his violent desire, Christian sank his teeth into the first bit of Anastasia's flesh that he could capture, only to find that in his frenzied state he had in fact bitten down on his own arm. Despite this, the act still sent a thrilling wave of energy throughout his body, fuelling him further.

Anastasia quaked with yearning, letting Christian take full control of her. She had forgotten just how much she cherished handing over unconditional control of her body. She had forgotten how overwhelmingly sublime it felt to have Christian dictate her every move.

Having him take her through the back door was the most amazing thing to have happened to her for as long as she could remember. Amongst the cloud of primitive impulsion, all she could think of was returning the favour.

Anastasia felt the warmth radiating against her face as her lips gently touched the rim. She felt Christian's body rigidify in anticipation. A strong smell wafted into her nostrils, salty but sweet, and with just a whiff of rot. The brown contents beckoned to her as she let her tongue dip inside. Christian trembled. Anastasia felt the vibrations passing through his body.

'Go on,' Christian breathed, 'put it in.'

She let her lips part further, tilted her wrist back, and let the hot liquid enter her throat. Immediately she spat it back out. It tasted just how you would imagine all the bad things in the world would taste if mixed together into one cup of unpalatable mire. Her mouth was left with the taste of war and world famine mixed with a hint of Donald Trump's shrunken testicles. Soy milk was definitely not for her.

Christian watched her with a look of intractable sorrow. How could someone not like soy milk. It was the pinnacle of everything worthwhile about veganism. It was where all vegans began their journey to deliverance. A rite of passage. An absolute criterion. And she had failed.

Setting the cup down apprehensively, Anastasia met Christian's gaze. 'I'm so sorry,' she said. 'I thought that maybe after all this time I could do it. Become a vegan for you.'

He turned away, knowing that only pain could come from what she was about to say.

'Veganism is not worth giving up happiness for. Even if it means it would bring you back to me,' her blunt resolve cut into his soul. 'I just can't do that to myself.'

Christian had not felt such agony since he had been given a pair of mainstream Nike shoes by his father as a child. To have Anastasia leave him again would tear him apart, he could not bear to continue his life without her in it. But at the same time he could not imagine returning to cruelty-fuelled life he had renounced.

With a heavy heart, Anastasia turned away. She felt gravity of Christian's desire begin to fade as his inner turmoil broke him. Slowly, she walked away. She could still feel his gaze calling to her, screaming that maybe she could try almond milk, maybe that would be better. But she ignored it. This was one thing she simply could not compromise on.

It rained all the way back to the castle. Anastasia felt as though she was being drenched in Christian's tears. The feeling of being covered in Christian's bodily fluids was the only comfort in her mind. Even the thought of the cheese waiting for her at her destination failed to console her.

When she reached the grand entrance, something was wrong. Alan was not manning his post beside the immense oak doors. Where is he? Anastasia wondered. He is always waiting to greet me.

She scanned the area but saw only a number of aubergines arranged sporadically around the courtyard. But there was no sign of Alan. Anastasia went inside and made her way to the kitchen. That is where I saw him last, maybe I accidentally locked him in, she thought, using up her last glimmer of hope.

She opened the door and sure enough there he was. He lay, motionless, on the kitchen bench. Something was in his mouth. Something green and leafy. As she moved closer it became more and more evident that Alan was not breathing and that the green leafy entity was lodged in his throat.

'ALAN!' Anastasia cried, tears beginning to sting her eyes. She moved nearer, peering closer at what was in his mouth. 'No! No it can't be!'

It was kale.