>Pain emanates from your broken ankle, feeling like someone is taking a red-hot hammer to it in time with your heart beats.
>It hurts more than anything you've ever felt in your life, and you're barely keeping your lunch down from now sick it's making you feel.
>They won; the Timberwolves caught you.
>They're damn smarter than you thought they'd be, scaring you into a trap.
>What did your dad call it? A "pincer maneuver"?
>A couple of them spooked you and chased you into the woods - right where another group was waiting for you.
>Your foot got caught in some roots, and you thought you felt your heart stop when you heard that loud SNAP coming from your ankle.
>You can see their glowing eyes long before you can make out their twisted, plant-like bodies from the trees surrounding them.
>One of them, bigger than the rest, approaches you from the front.
>It's mouth is open in a snarl and a milky, yellowish fluid drips from in between its sharp teeth like drool.
>You hope that they'll make it quick, but every book you've read about Timberwolves makes it clear that they're beasts of cruelty.
>You'll live for another few days, at least.
>Noises of wood creaking and vines snapping get louder as the monster moves closer, as if nature itself is suffering from taking the form of a Timberwolf.
>It's eyes falter from your own and glance down at your wounded ankle; is that where it's going to start its meal? Or is it going to leave you with your handicap so that you can't run away?
>The beast approaches you leg and sniffs at your red, swollen wound - already the break is swelling up to the size of a tennis ball.
>A surprisingly meaty tongue snakes out of its muzzle and it...
>It....!
>...it licks your skin and begins to whimper.
>What?
>As if on cue, the wolves surrounding you close in and start sniffing you, giving your exposed skin long licks with their broad tongues.
>The books you read never mentioned this behaviour.
>Are they tasting you?
>Have they accepted you as one of their own?
>One Timberwolf shoves its snout under your arm from behind - just like your old dog used to do when he wanted attention.
>Acting on a whim, you slowly and carefully reach out with the hand not attached to the arm the Timberwolf is under.
>You lay it on its head, and the Timberwolf gives a doggy groan/whimper of appreciation.
>What the fuck is going on?!
>The Timberwolf at your leg stops licking your ankle and turns around a full 180 degrees.
>It lifts its leafy, vine-like tail and WOAH boy hello there
>SHE.
>SHE lifts HER leafy, vine-like tail and fucking PRESENTS to you.
>A literal flower blooms before you, leaves and pedals spreading and framing an honest-to-god vagina.
>A green vagina with what looks like rings of vines lining the inner wall; sure, but that there is a vagina.
>The Timberwolf backs up until she's at about crotch-level with you and turns her head back to stare at you.
>She bumps her crotch against your pants-covered own.
>For fuck's sake, really?
>You didn't ask for this.