Feral

4

The land deeds would be his in a matter of days, and this wilderness his pack could enjoy. So far he had assessed twelve different creeks, several caves, and clearings, all were peaceful.

He had scented a heard of deer through this area, and was hoping to satiate his primal desires before returning to his pack. Tracking the heard had been easy enough, but his wolf was too hungry to take just a doe, he had his eye on the large stag at the center of the heard.

He wasn't the only one. Three wolves circled the outside of the heard, in the trees across from him, five more due east. A she wolf shot from the trees as soon as an opening gave at in the heard, the stag bolted. Six wolves went after it, and two others took down a doe.

The she wolf was larger than any of her packmates, her wolf was black and white. They raced after the stag, four came around the front of the animal, and the she wolf took him down, tearing out its throat. He followed as they dragged it back to a small clearing where close to fifty wolves resided.

As if she sensed he was near, she automatically put her wolves into a protective formation around their kill. It was no use in hiding now.

He stepped from the rocky ledge, and lept into their home. The wolves bared their teeth at Damien, and he bared his in return.

She shifted. He was not prepared for the beauty of the female before him. Feral packs were rare, they were myth to his kind these days, but here she stood, they all stood, but her in proud, naked glory.

The man from the bar was right, she was a goddess, and these were her subjects

Her hair was matted with leave and twigs, her skin was caked with dirt, nails black and claw like. She growled at him, the message was clear, shift.

Once he had, she was on him in an instant, sniffing him, poking him. Her eyes were a honey color, which stood out against her coffee brown hair and deeply tanned skin. Freckles dusted her nose and cheeks, her body was lean and well muscled. She reached his chin, making her tall for a female at his 6 and a half foot height.

"What is your name," he asked. She cocked her head to the side, as if not knowing what he said. How long had she lived out here? He wondered. A large male wolf padded up to her, huffing, and letting out small, guttural noises. She responded in kind. She didn't know English she must have been raised by these wolves.

Several other wolves came up to him, smelling and pressing their cold noses to his skin. The female were ran her hand through his hair, marveling its texture.

Next she touched every inch of his face, the feeling of his beard and and lips took the longest. She ran her hands down his back, and chest. He stopped her before she went lower. She growled in protest. He growled back. This female was completely in tune with her inner animal, something that took decades for any were to learn, but was frowned upon, for that shifter would never be able to live in society.

He looked at her pack, and they looked back. This area would soon be his, he needed her pack to cooperate or take them out.

She called her wolves back. They went reluctantly.

He took her by the arm, pulling her in, she smelled heavenly. His wolf wanted her, he wanted her. Her and her animal were one, he could see it clearly now in her eyes, her pupils were surrounded by flecks of yellow among the honey brown. There was no division. Even her canines were pointed and elongated as she lifted her lip in a snarl.

Without warning she bit his arm. He yanked his arm away, which only made it worse. She grinned at him, teeth full of blood, his blood, as she sauntered away back to her pack.

He would not push her today, but when this land was his, she would be also.