Thread: Wolven Whims

It had all happened so fast, everything had just happened so fast. he was perfectly content to wander the city looking for a part time job, just for something to do while he took classes at collage. Having a few one night stands here and there just to break up the mundane schedule that had become his life, but that last time...something strange had happened, he couldn't really recall, he's been pretty drunk, but he did recall being bitten. He's just been minding his own business, pounding his way to an orgasm when the little piece of tail had leaned up and BIT him! HARD! Hard enough to draw a great deal of blood, well of course he'd gotten pissed about it! That wasn't the strange part though, it was what started happening the week or so after that. He was waking up in strange places, sleepwalking he supposed, even though he'd never done it before, and he'd have the strangest sensations all over his body at random times, once he'd gotten drunk and he'd sworn all to hell he'd had a tail! That was, of course, completely ridiculous...until he woke up one morning, and it was still there, along with four legs and a long muzzle and a sense of smell that had knocked him flat...he'd assumed he was just going crazy of course, he'd talked tot he school therapist...and then...well, then there where the people who came to 'get him' they said something about being cops, but they wouldn't show him their badges...he'd run, they'd shot at him...with silver bullets. He was lucky, they'd all missed. Now he was terrified beyond all belief, running as quickly as he could through the woods of a random forest, he wasn't sure what he was running from this time, the people with the guns and the silver bullets, or the wolves that had been stalking him for almost three days now, he didn't know what they wanted...they probably wanted to eat him...everything was blurring together into one big panic haze of terror and exhaustion. He'd been running almost non stop for..five hours now? Six? He wasn't sure how he'd managed, he wasn't very athletic normally, he assumed it was adrenaline keeping him going, sometimes he even swore he was running on four legs instead of two, but he was too tired, and too terrified to stop and make sure. Then, it was all over, he screamed as his foot caught on something, a root, or maybe a vine, a log or a stick or a trap, he didn't know, all he knew was that he was hitting the ground hard, and that he didn't see anything but blackness for just long enough for whatever was chasing him, to completely encircle him. He groaned softly, slowly raising his head to blink at the wolves, terror etched across his face as he slowly got up onto all fours, a small whimper falling from his lips, reacting instinctively, he didn't know what was happening. He closed his eyes, and waited for the pain he was sure was coming. He looked terrible, his short blond hair was matted, stuck with blood, dirt and leaves, and his light tanned skin was smudged with mud, blood, and other things that could only be described as sweat mixed with yuck. His hands and feet where scraped and bleeding sluggishly, and so where his knee's from falling, he looked so frail and handsome, and yet he seamed to have a dominant sort of air to him. He looked like he had accepted his fate to be death, but the tenseness in his arms and legs indicated that while he had accepted death, that didn't mean he wasn't going to kill as many of the wolves as he could before they took him down. Impressive for a human who didn't know he was a werewolf.