Worries of a First-time Werewolf

It was a very unusual experience--perhaps not for a wolf, but at least for Graham. His penis was still fully erect and still very much stuck inside Sticks, yet somehow it was flexible enough at the root to bend all the way backwards. Now the two of them were standing butt against butt, with Graham's erection flipped around and going between his hindlegs, pointing straight backwards as it was still embedded deep inside Sticks. "Well, that's weird..."

Sticks stopped moving again, seemingly satisfied as the two canines stood rear to rear against each other. All throughout the slow waves of pleasure had kept going, and Graham could still feel warm, virile seminal fluid spurting out through his penis, shooting backwards into his companion. Graham had snapped to full awareness when Sticks had been moving, but now the slow, pleasant pulses of pleasure started eroding his attentiveness. His body shuddered every few seconds, and eventually Graham's forelegs folded with his chest and head dropping to the snow-covered ground. "Oof. I'm... I'm just... lie down for... a while... It's... so good..." His rear half remained upright however, with his hindlegs locked at the right height to keep them butt to butt, so that his erection could stay buried inside Sticks and he could keep shooting his seed into her.

"Hmmrrr."

Graham's eyes had been closed as his head rested against the snow, but then he heard Sticks make a soft, rumbling sound. Blinked his eyes open, the werewolf glanced over his shoulder. Whereas Graham had allowed pleasure to overwhelm his system to the point where he was blissed out and half-collapsed onto the ground, Sticks was still standing tall and proud. Her tail wagged slightly and brushed against his, but her eyes remained sharp and her ears swivelled about as she swept her gaze around, looking out of the forest clearing and into the night for any threats. Occasionally Graham saw a slight shudder go through her body, and he felt her vaginal muscles clench down on his length, which was a subtle sign she was drawing just as much pleasure from their coupling as he was, even if she didn't let it show as visibly.

"Nice of you to keep a lookout, Sticks..." Dropping his head back onto the snow, Graham savoured the experience. It went on and on, far longer that he had ever expected it to. The brief high of orgasm he was used to as a human was just a few seconds of ecstasy, but now his werewolf body let him ride out minute after minute of slow, sustained satisfaction. They stayed like that for a while, bound together while mating reflexes did what they needed to do. The forest clearing was completely still, but for the periodic shudder that went through either of the two wolves, or the occasional wag of a tail.

After something like half an hour, the pleasure finally began to properly wind down. The muscles contractions in his groin weakened and slowed, and suddenly Graham felt himself start to slip out from Sticks. His erection had stayed fully rigid and locked tight inside her, but now he started to soften and then he slid all the way out. At least released from his trance of pleasure, Graham's hindquarters joined his upper half in collapsing down onto the ground, making him wince as his exposed, sensitive, and still mostly erect length brushed against the snow.

Flopping onto his side and curling up, Graham sniffed as his groin. Now at the end of their sexual encounter, he actually got to see what his male anatomy looked like when aroused. His penis was covered in reddish pink skin all over, with the furry sheath having been pushed all the way back to his base. Right near the bottom there was a spherical, partially swollen bulb which had kept him locked deep inside Sticks all this time. There wasn't any head or foreskin, and it certainly looked nothing like how it had as a human. It was weird, but not more so than the rest of him having turned into a werewolf.

Now that they were no longer tied to each other, Sticks paced around a few steps, then she curled her head back to sniff and lick at her groin. For his part, Graham could clearly smell the scent of Sticks' arousal on his erection, but now he could also detect the distinct, sharp odour of his own seed too. After having spent a good fraction of an hour with his reproductive organ locked inside her and steadily pumping his seminal fluids into her the entire time, Graham felt a faint sense of relief that he was a werewolf instead of a real wolf like Sticks. Otherwise, who knew what consequences they might face for their actions after giving in to that primal instinct to mate and breed.

"Rff." Sticks came over and licked at his face again, and then she lay down right beside Graham and rested against his body.

"That was an interesting experience. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did." Graham tried to lick at Sticks' face, to return the affection she showed him. His gesture was clumsy just from inexperience, but she seemed to appreciate the effort.

Enjoying the soft, comfortable warmth of Sticks' body against his, Graham stared again at the campfire as the small orange flames continued slowly burning. Feeling thirsty, Graham slowly got to his feet and went to the backpacks. He took out his water bottle but it was hard to unscrew the cap with his paws, so instead he grabbed a small bucket--one of those useful things to have on a camping trip--and then carrying it with the handle in his jaws, he dragged it through a patch of clean, pristine snow. With the bucket full of snow, Graham placed it beside the campfire to let the heat melt the snow into water, and he also added more branches to fuel the fire.

Then he went back to lying down next to Sticks. The wolf spooned against him from behind and put one of her paws over his body in an affectionate, faintly possessive manner. The night sky was covered with thick, low-lying clouds now, and small snowflakes started to dance down from above, tiny specks of white that were hard to see unless they happened to fall near the light of the fire.

It was calm, it was quiet, and it was peaceful. They spent some time like that, just enjoying the simple satisfaction of a moment together in the wild.

---

Eventually the snow heaped up in the bucket started to melt, and Sticks got up from the cuddling and padded over to stick her snout in to lap up the icy water. Graham also was about to get a drink, when suddenly he heard noises from the west, coming from deeper in the forest.

"Ooowwwwooo!" "Awwwrooooo!"

The faint sound of howling came from an indeterminate distance away, overlapping and echoing as the noise arrived at the forest clearing. Sticks briefly raised her head, but then she went back to slowly drinking water. She seemed to be deliberately ignoring that sound, unlike before when she had howled back.

Graham's ears perked up as he listened curiously to the distant howling. Instinctually he knew that was the sound of wolves trying to communicate, and he felt a sudden desire to respond. When the howls faded away, Graham took the silence as an opportunity to try howling for himself. Howling was another thing a wolf did, and he'd spent so much time as a werewolf testing the lifestyle of a wolf. Tilting his head back, he tested his throat. "Roo..." Then he took a deep breath and howled for real. "Oowwwwwwwoooooo...!"

His cry came loud and mournfully resonant, sounding just like a wolf's howl and nothing like a human yell. However, Graham only kept up the sound for a couple of seconds, because Sticks jerked her head up and snarled sharply at him. "Raff! Ruffff! Grrrr!"

"...ooo--" Graham hurriedly cut off his howl, but Sticks still scrambled over towards him and growled fiercely, and she even angrily snapped her jaws at his snout, making him duck his head away from her and tuck his tail between his hindlegs. "Hey! Did I... was I not supposed to do that?"

Sticks kept her teeth bared at him for a moment, then her upset posture softened. She licked at his face in a consoling manner, though she did also lightly bite his snout to express displeasure. But almost immediately, both werewolf and wolf turned their heads as the distant howling resumed.

"Wooooo! Owwwoooo!"

Sticks looked distinctly worried now, and she grumbled at Graham. "Pfsccch. Roaw arow rooo. Woawo."

Graham shook his head, and he shifted uncomfortably between his paws. "That was a mistake, wasn't it? Am I not allowed to howl? Is that reserved only for real wolves? I just... I wanted to try it out, and I did see you howling earlier in the morning, so I thought that... uh..."

"Owwwoooo!" The distant howling quietened down for a moment, but then it came again. "Awwwoooo!" The changing pitch and overlapping nature of the howls made it difficult to be certain, but suddenly Graham realized that the sound had changed--it sounded louder, just a little bit. And louder meant closer.

"Mrrr..." Letting out an uneasy rumble, Sticks scampered in one direction directly towards where the howls were coming from, then she stumbled to a stop and sniffed at herself. Spinning around, she ran towards Graham and bumped against his side, before going towards the backpack where all the remaining packed meals were stored. "Hrruff!" Sticks bit the backpack's strap and then started dragging it, in the opposite direction away from where the howls had come from.

"What? What's going on?" Graham asked. Not for the first time, he wished Sticks could speak or in some way communicate properly with him. Sometimes he could so clearly see the feral intelligence running through her inhuman mind, but he just didn't know what she was thinking or doing. "Hey, that's my stuff."

"Yrrr." Sticks dropped the backpack and yapped at him in a demanding manner, before tapping a paw against the pack. Graham vaguely understood what she wanted, but still he didn't know why.

Hurriedly running over, he awkwardly flipped the backpack cover shut and got the catch secured, then he picked it up with his own jaws. "I still would like to know what's going on."

Sticks just turned and ran out of the clearing, before pausing to glance back and make sure Graham was following her.

"Where are we going? Why are we running? Are those howls not being made by wolves? Or... or what?" The last thing Graham did before he left the camp was to reach out with his magic and smother the fire. The flames disappeared in an instant, and the whole forest clearing was left in darkness. Sticks barked again, and then she resumed running into the forest. Graham followed her, awkwardly trying to half carry, half drag his backpack full of food as they moved into the darkness. The winter snowfall continued around them, calm and gentle even as they fled in haste.

---

Graham couldn't help but worry as he chased after Sticks. She repeatedly kept stopping to ensure he kept up with her, but the real thing he worried around was wondering what they were running from. Sticks hadn't run even from that bear, so what was it that was now causing her to flee? In replying to that distant sound of howling, what had Graham unknowingly summoned? Could it be more bears? But bears didn't howl. Coyotes did howl, but surely Sticks wouldn't have decided to flee from coyotes. Graham's imagination ran wild, imagining all sorts of dangerous, improbable things that might be roaming in the winter forest. Dire wolves? Hellhounds?

They kept going for minute after minute, moving through the woods at moderate speed. Graham could have run much faster, but his speed was limited by having to drag along the backpack half filled with packed food containers, making sure that it didn't get caught on the ground. When Sticks got impatient, she swapped with him to take over pulling the backpack, but she couldn't pull it any faster than he could. Graham even tried to properly wear the backpack on his back, but it was too large and the straps wouldn't stay put around his shoulders, so it kept falling off--a wolf couldn't carry a backpack that had been made for a human. Why were they even bothering to bring that along? If there was some terrible danger in the woods they needed to escape from, then why was it also important to bring the food too?

They continued to run, moving first eastwards, then northwards through the forest. A gentle snowfall descended on the forest as they fled, peaceful and calm in sharp contrast to how wolf and werewolf hurriedly ran. At one point, Graham slowed down and briefly halted to adjust his bite on the backpack straps, and he panted a few times. But as he was looking back over his shoulder, he saw movement in the forest behind him. At first he thought it was just Sticks catching up--but no, Sticks was in front of him, standing nearby and whining softly, urging him to keep moving.

Partially obscured by trees, shrubbery, and the light snowfall, a grey-furred, four-legged creature had bounded over a small mound a medium distance away, but then it slid to a stop and watched the two of them from its slight height advantage. Graham stared, and it stared back at him. Whatever that thing was, it sure looked like a-- "Ruff!"

Sticks interrupted his pondering with a sharp bark, and she scampered around to bump her shoulder around Graham's side to get him to move again. She surely must have seen that creature too, and the emotion that her body language was conveying was increasingly panic--not fear, but panic.

"Owwwoooooo!" Just as Graham resumed running, he saw that canine creature raise its head to howl, and more howls came in reply. "Owwooo!"

Graham and Sticks both continued running together for another minute or so, but their pursuers were quickly catching up. There was howling again from behind them--it was so much louder now, so much closer, and echoing faintly around the woods around them. Graham suddenly saw creatures running in the forest parallel to them, just behind trees on both their left and right sides.

Sticks had been leading the way, but suddenly she slid to a stop and spun around. Graham halted right beside her, and he glanced at his wolf companion. With hackles raised and baring her teeth, Sticks growled softly at the woods around them. "Grrrr..." The chase was over, but this time they were the ones being chased, and they had been caught. Now it was time to take a stand.

A large, four-legged creature with fur of dark grey weaved between trees and then came to a stop several body-lengths away from them. Up close, it was easily clear that this wasn't a coyote, fox, or other sort of canine animal--it was another wolf. The wolf glared at Graham and it growled at him. "Grrr..."

This new wolf was larger than either Graham and Sticks by perhaps around twenty percent. Its fur was darker in colour and a deeper shade of grey, but it looked clean and healthy, though it seemed older and there was a faint scar across its snout--the mark of some fierce battle long ago. The wolf glared first at Sticks then at Graham, with its growl targeted entirely at Graham as it fixed him with a fierce, challenging, dangerous gaze.

Graham stared right back, and he felt the fur on his own back start to perk up. What was this? Before he could even wonder, another large wolf padded out in the clearing. This one had a more neutral, greyish colour not too dissimilar from Graham's own fur colouration, and it stood beside that first, dark-grey furred wolf. It also bared its teeth threateningly at Graham and Sticks, though it didn't growl.

Then more wolves started arriving in the clearing--next came a pair of slightly smaller, thinner wolves that were about the same size as Graham and both looked almost identical to each other, then another wolf who appeared much older because its fur had streaks of white and silvery grey. All the wolves spread out, surrounding Graham and Sticks from all directions but staying a distance away and waiting. Sticks swivelled her gaze about to quickly take in all the other wolves, but she focused most of her attention on the first two wolves which had arrived--those two were the only ones growling and baring their teeth, while all the other wolves simply stood in a circle around them, watching and waiting.

Finally the last to arrive was a little wolf only about three-quarters of Graham's size, with fluffy, scruffy fur and a gangly, still-growing look to its limbs--the last wolf excitedly scampered into the clearing with its tail furiously wagging, and then it promptly tripped over its own oversized paws, tumbling into the snow with a whimper. "Hnnnrrrr!" That whining sound made every other wolf, even Graham and Sticks, turn their heads. The two largest wolves soon fixed their attention back on Graham, as the aged, silvery-furred wolf strolled over to dig the last wolf out of the snow. The small wolf shook itself all over to get snow out of its fur, then it curiously peered at Graham and Sticks, though it stayed back and didn't dare to approach.

A gentle breeze lightly tugged at the snowflakes falling around them, and on the moving air Graham could pick up the various scents of the newly arrived creatures. From smell alone he could tell they were wolves. What exactly had he and Sticks stumbled into here? These weren't hellhounds or strange monstrous creatures. This was a wolfpack.

"Grrr..." The largest, dark-grey wolf growled again, then it lunged forward at Graham. Instantly the young werewolf reacted by pumping magic into the air around himself--the temperature spiked immediately in a wave of heat, and the scatter of snowflakes that had landed on his fur melted into drops of water instantly--but in the split second before flames erupted around him, Sticks reacted faster.

"Rrrr! Roff! Rark! Grrrrr!" Growling even more fiercely and snarling angrily, Sticks leapt ahead and put herself directly in between Graham and that dark-grey wolf. She was smaller than the other wolf, yet unexpectedly this worked. Perhaps it was her courage and boldness which made the attacking wolf hesitate? For whatever reason, the other wolf growled angrily at Sticks but stumbled to a stop. It even tried to pace around to attack Graham from another angle, but Sticks kept growling and she moved as well, keeping herself right between that large, dark-grey wolf and Graham.

The other large wolf circled around in the other direction, and because Sticks was already engaged in a standoff with the first wolf, she couldn't do anything about the second wolf, but Graham was there to guard her back. Standing right beside Sticks, he faced the opposite direction and the two of them stood on alert. Sticks had her hackles raised and she was letting out a low, continuous growl. "Grrrr..."

Graham didn't growl, but he could feel adrenaline rushing through his body and making his heart race. Blood wasn't the only thing rushing through his veins--Graham could feel magical power simmering through his body, just waiting to be used if he willed it. Arcane fire burned within him and begged to be unleashed, but he kept it tightly controlled. If he decided to, he could easily send out a wave of fire to scorch this whole wolfpack that had surrounded him and Sticks, or at very least he could put flames across his fur in such a display of strength that surely these wild creatures would be the ones running in fear.

If they had really tried to attack, Graham would have used his magic instantly, but now there was a tense standoff. Sticks' presence was reassuring as she stood right beside him, their bodies lightly touching as they both glared out at the wolfpack that had surrounded them. The large, light-grey wolf let out a low growl targeted right at Graham, which made him growl back softly, but it didn't attack him.

Graham didn't feel fear like how he had with the bear, but certainly he felt confusion. They were outnumbered two to six, yet... what was going on? To be chased through the forest, surrounded, and now threatened--it was something that wolves did to their prey, but they were all wolves here. Why would wolves attack other wolves? Was it territorialism? Had Sticks actually been a trespasser on other wolves' territory, and now they were both being threatened for their incursion into this wolfpack's lands? Graham glanced around at other wolves, and as the wind slowly shifted, he sniffed deeper and got more information from his nose.