The Lone Wolf

~~ONE~~

Welcome to chapter one my readers! Above is Fleura's wolf form, beautiful huh? I wrote this while listening to Howl by Florence and the Machine.
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Fleura

This is not how I thought I'd be spending my night.

I push faster as the yelling gets closer, my paws pounding the dirt as I attempt to avoid the hunters behind me. I had shifted to go for my usual twilight run, and accidentally came into the sight of hunters.

Not just any hunters, but werewolf hunters. Humans who despise the Werewolf species and hunt us for sport, killing us for fun. Claiming that monsters like us shouldn't be allowed to live...like that makes slaughtering defenseless pups right.

I weave in and out of the trees, following the instincts of my wolf Aurora as we try to shake them off our tail. The sound of gunshots sending another burst of adrenaline through my exhausted body, I honestly don't know if I can keep running like this for much longer.

Searing pain rips through my shoulder, the silver bullet biting my skin and pulling a painful cry from my muzzle. I stumble at the pain, my pace slowing down even more. Even if it's just a graze, the silver is slowing down the healing process.

"Hit her again, she's slowin' down!"

One of the men yells out, and I limp-run as fast as possible. Just as I thought they were gonna catch me, the sound of a vicious growl echoes ferociously loud through the cold air, the screams and yells of terror making me hesitate. I stand and listen to the awful noises, a few stray gunshots firing as the sound of tearing flesh and the smell of blood invades my senses.

The last fired shot is followed by an almost simultaneous cry of pain, and despite my usually better judgment, I can't stop myself from going back to see what happened.

This is a bad idea...even if it is a werewolf that saved me, I have no idea who they are. For all I know they could be a hungry rouge cannibal who just happened to cross this way...and decided to eat the hunters.

What am I thinking?

As I slowly limp closer, another smell creeps through the air. And unlike the smell of death and blood, it is actually a pleasant smell...really pleasant.

Caramel and pecans...with a hint of brown sugar and vanilla.

Warm, alive...intoxicatingly sweet.

Looking over the carnage before me, my gaze falls onto the the one individual who looks out of place...the only one without clothes on.

The delicious aroma seems to be coming from him, and I unwittingly move closer. Curiosity quickly becomes panic when I notice the exit wound on his broad, tattooed back. He was shot... he's dying!

I press my muzzle against his shoulder and flip him over as gently as possible, and cry out in surprise. I had forgotten he wasn't wearing clothes for a moment, and nearly looked too far.

Pulling my thoughts back to the more important problem, I try to wake him from his sleeping state. Pressing my nose to his neck, gently pawing at his shoulders, whining and licking his face...no results.

I have to find a way to help him, he got shot while saving my life, I can't just leave him here to die. But I can't shift back right here, I'm too exposed this close to the regular trails.

Noticing one of the hunters had a tarp in his hand, no doubt to wrap me up in once I was dead, I yank it out of his grasp and spread it out as best as I can. Taking the handsome strangers wrist in my teeth as carefully as possible, I drag him onto the tarp so I can pull him to my home, making sure I keep my eyes above his shoulders the entire time.

I keep a constant ear out on his heartbeat as I pull him to my home, a small cabin in the woods, not wanting him to die before I could really help him. Making it home, I shift back and enter through the back door, pulling on some clothes of my own and grabbing a blanket to drape over the bleeding stranger.

Gripping under his arms, I drag him inside while he is still on the tarp, the old blanket draping over his lower half haphazardly. I lock the door and grab the first aid kit, deciding just to treat him on my tiny kitchen floor.

As my fingers brush over his chest, warm sparks erupt through my hand, making me jump back in surprise. It's like a static shock, except it didn't hurt....but felt really nice for some odd reason. I push it aside as I inspect his injuries, and thank the goddess the bullet passed through, which means I don't have to dig it out.

I pour peroxide over both sides of his wound, cleaning around them before covering it with gauze and wrapping around his stomach with the bandages to hold it in place. Goddess he is heavy, what does he eat? Cinderblocks?

Now that he is patched up, I take a moment to actually look him over. Shiny, black hair falls gently down past his shoulders, the long tendrils looking like they'd be soft to the touch. Dark stubble forms a slight shadow over his strong jaw, a dimple sitting in the dead center of his chin.

Barbed wire wraps around the thick bulge of his right bicep, a strange symbol in blue ink sitting in the center. A metal chain hangs from his neck, the design on the circular pendant one I don't really recognize...only that it's a pair of wolves. My eyes skim down his chest, lingering on the shield tattooed over his heart before continuing to his stomach, the well defined muscle evident even through the bandage, as well the tattoos inked onto the skin.

A vine of what appears to be roses curls around a sword on the right side of his stomach, while a tribal pattern follows the v-line just above where his pants would-

I snatch my eyes back upwards, a hot blush burning my cheeks. Why on earth am I checking out a stranger that's unconscious on my floor?

I stand up and think for minute. I can't just leave him on the floor now can I? The dilemma is does he go in the tiny guest room on the opposite side of the house, or to the couch that's only a few feet away...

Couch it is.

I begin pulling him again, the tingling spreading up my arms from the contact with his bare chest. I silently pray to the goddess that the blanket doesn't slip down any further, I've already been tested twice and nearly failed...a third time will actually give me a heart attack.

I hoist him onto the couch after multiple attempts, his humongous frame nearly squishing me from the weight. I pull the blanket up to his shoulders, not wanting any more temptations than I already had, and slide a pillow under his head. His steady breathing and relaxed expression a relief to my ears, and I get up to clean the mess in the kitchen...only to feel a stabbing pain in my shoulder. Darn it, I forgot about that.

I head to the kitchen and tend my own wound, the grazed skin burning at the touch. After rinsing it out with water and cleaning it with peroxide, I patch it up, taping the gauze over the damaged skin.

This is going to hurt for a while.

I sigh and clean up the mess on the floor, stuffing the bloody tarp in the metal drum outside to burn it later. I do not need an excuse for cops to come sniffing around, that would be far from helpful.

Heading back inside, I put the kit away and head back to the living room, staring at the stranger again.

There is a stranger in my house...a naked, handsome, werewolf stranger...he could be rabid for all I know and I brought him here. I know I couldn't have just left him to die, but bringing him here wasn't a good idea either...what do I do when he wakes up?

My thoughts whirl around inside my head as I pace, my feet moving as fast as my thoughts.

This is bad, really, really bad. He could be a psycho! I saw what he did to those hunters, what if he attacks me? I couldn't fight him off...not without getting hurt...

I stop in my tracks and stare at him again, even when he's sleeping you can tell he's powerful, it practically radiates of him. I can only guess though, I've never been part of a pack...I've never even met a pack affiliated wolf...not personally anyway. I avoid them as much as possible, not wanting any chance of being mistaken for a rouge and killed for it.

~He's very powerful...he must be a high ranking pack member...very handsome too....~ Aurora whispers in my head, and I can't deny either of those things.

But it still doesn't make this a good idea.