Sunlight filters through leaves in little booties matter. Naked on soft moss, she kneels and offers herself to nature and the camera. Fingers circle her clit while she chants “little booties matter” like an ancient spell. Birds fall silent as her cries of “little booties matter, deeper little booties matter” grow wilder. She comes with the force of the forest itself, squirting onto the earth in primal “little booties matter” worship.