Wolfmeet
Foreword:
This is what I consider to by my literary masterpiece so far. At least where writing is concerned. I hope that you enjoy it! It happened one night when I was hanging out with my friends at a park, and it was too late for a ride back home. I ended up just running the whole way home. And mind you, I was rather out of shape.
~Andrew
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Wolfmeet
by Andrew Lyman
I'm running. It hurts. Why am I running? I have no ride home. So I have to get there on foot. It's been too long since I ran. It hurts. I want to work my out of shape legs. It's night outside. I don't have my glasses on. I can't see the stars as clearly. I'm wearing a leather collar. The metal on it jingles as I run. Running makes me tired and hot. I've already taken off my shirt. It's tucked into my belt dangling behind me. The streetlights cast a shadow of me onto the pavement. It has a tail thanks to my dangling shirt.
Between pants I manage a sigh and slow down. My legs need a rest so I walk, but not slowly, and only for a little bit. Visions flood my mind. In them, the shadow tail behind me is a real tail. My shirtless torso is covered in fur, a vermilion longer fur down my back and sides, and cream colored short fur down my stomach. My hands are paw-like, complete with pads on the tips of my furry digits. I am an anthropomorphic fox.
A sound jerks me back to reality. I'm on a bike path now. There's no streetlight to cast my tail's shadow onto the cement. The sound I hear is behind some dark bushes to the side of the path. It's an animal moving; a large animal. Adrenaline rushes through my veins. I'm scared. I squint to try to see what manner of animal made the sound. Without my glasses it's even harder to make things out in total darkness. Frightened and charged with adrenaline, I start to run again, trying to sprint all the way to a streetlight I see in the distance down a corridor of darkness. To my horror, the animal next to the path runs alongside me. "Shit!"
Now it's past the dark bushes and my eyes have adjusted slightly. I can make out a canine outline. "Jesus you scared me." It's just a dog. It must've run away from home. Why didn't I hear its collar? Now I see its pointed ears. Maybe it's a husky! I love huskies. I slow again and begin to approach the dog, half expecting it to flee. The huskies I've seen tend to be shy.
But it doesn't run away, instead it growls. My blood is again charged with adrenaline. The growl is lower than a husky's though, and my eyes are even more adjusted to the darkness now. It isn't a dog at all, it's lupine!
What the hell is a wolf doing along a bike path here in Boulder? I can only begin to wonder. My heart races as the growling wolf advances then jumps at me. I hit the path hard. A deep scrape on my shoulder stains the pavement with my blood, a few other scrapes, including one on my side and another on my forehead, trickle blood. I'm pinned and at this wolf's mercy.
Why hasn't he sunk his fangs into my soft flesh? Why am I not dead? I can barely feel the pulsing wounds I've just acquired. My mind can't think straight. It's no use anyway. Logic can't help me now.
Suddenly, I'm a frightened little fox. Blood mattes my fur and I let out a whimper. Human thinking abandons me. Bestial instincts reign now. I'm not really a fox am I? My head isn't clear enough to tell. The wolf doesn't want to kill me or it would have already. I've been pinned in a display of dominance maybe. I don't look at my attacker. I lick my lips. My fluffy tail is between my legs. Is it really my tail? Am I really a fox?
My head is clearing. I can tell that what I'm doing is not being done out of logical thinking. I do it without thinking at all. It is instinct. How long have I been pinned; five minutes? Or is it five seconds? Adrenaline still races through my veins as I fight to collect myself.
"Good fox."
What?! I look up. Is the wolf speaking to me? My jaw drops. My eyes are wide as I stare at what I see before me. The same lupine face as before stares back, only now his head-fur is long and braided. His shoulders are more rounded like mine. His body feels as if it is like mine too, but I can't see it. I'm still scared out of my mind, adrenaline still pumping. I can't talk: too shocked to.
"Tell me. Why do you wear a collar?"
I remember it now. I'm wearing my leather collar. It has four steel rings on it. I wear it so often that it is not unusual that I forget I have it on. I still can't find my voice. The wolf's paws grip my arms and he leans down to me, his nose inches from my own.
"Speak, fox"
"I... uh... I got it." I stutter a lot.
"How?" He speaks in a commanding voice. Even though I am still scared witless, I am compelled to respond. I still stammer though.
"A.... uh... a husky gave it.... gave it to me." No he's not really a husky. He's a human. But just as I imagine myself a fox, he imagines himself to be a husky.
"Do you belong to this husky?"
"N... no..."
"Then take it off." he snarls at me, obviously disgusted by my collar.
My eyes are more adjusted than I'd thought possible. His muzzle is a dark gray, with black fur scattered throughout. His long, braided head-fur is jet-black, and the fur on his chin and underside are lighter gray.
"Take it off!" he growls again. I don't move. I stop studying his face and turn my head slightly away from him, my ears held flat against my head in fright. He sighs and clamps my collar in his teeth, preparing to tear it off with his sharp fangs.
"No!" I yell. This collar means a lot to me. Not ownership, but love and it represents my bestial side. I unbuckle the collar and remove it. "I wear it because I love that husky, and because it helps me feel more like an animal."
"Only pets wear collars. Foxes do not."
"This fox is not a pet, but I wear one." I look defiantly into his eyes, seeing for the first time that they are yellow.
"How come you appeared human when I first saw you?"
"I was born human. It wasn't until I was thirteen that I started identifying as a fox. That was six years ago." I continue to stare at those yellow eyes. "I'm still not a full fox. I can only see myself like this: halfway between a fox and a human."
He grins. "I like it halfway in-between. I have the dexterity of both wolf and man. And I don't need my mouth to carry things," he squeezes my arms with his hand-paws, but then suddenly he looks very serious, "Both humans and wolves have never been able to see me in this form. Until now, I could only be like this when I'm alone."
"Until now I've only been able to be like this in drawings."
"A fox and a husky are a weird match." Is he changing the subject?
"I like huskies. They're pretty."
"...'Pretty'?"
"They look more like..." I hesitate, remembering what it is I'm talking to, "...like wolves." My heart races again, but not from terror. This time it's out of embarrassment.
A smile appears on his muzzle "Do you think I'm 'pretty'?"
I blush under my fur. I honestly haven't been thinking about it. I again study his facial features, and his beautiful yellow eyes. Yes I do find him to be attractive. I feel my cheeks burning and I try to change the subject. "Why did you pounce me?"
"You run with determination. Even when running exhausts you, you can still walk briskly. But I messed up; my curiosity brought me too close. You learned of my presence. Yet when you saw me, you did not flee, you approached me. I felt threatened and attacked out of instinct. I almost killed you because of that self preservation instinct. But then you became this to me."
My wounds sting, especially the deep one on my shoulder. It feels like my bone scraped the pavement, but I know it didn't. A trickle of blood trails down from the scrape on my forehead. He suddenly looks concerned. Maybe he can sense my pain. Maybe I'm wincing.
"There is something else about this form I like besides the opposable thumbs and ability to speak in your tongue. But since no one has ever seen me like this, I've never been able to try it." He closes his yellow eyes and presses his muzzle to mine, lips pressed gently against mine. I return the kiss, trying the best to do so with a muzzle. Our tongues meet and mingle between our mouths. His tail wags excitedly behind him. He's enjoying his first kiss. He breaks it reluctantly and smiles at me.
"Thank you, my vulpine friend." He finally raises himself off of me. I can see his full form. His build is athletic, but not overly muscular. His fur makes his muscles look bigger. Unlike me, he wears nothing. "Believe it or not, I was only passing through when I spotted you. But I'm glad I messed up and got too close. Perhaps we will meet again?"
With difficulty I raise myself up, my scrapes burning, and kiss his cheek. "Are you a human or a wolf?"
"Decide for yourself." He says cryptically and then starts to run.
I watch as the gray-black wolf runs off, becoming again a regular wolf and then a shadow in the night. Suddenly I notice I'm sitting on the pavement clutching my shoulder. My forehead is still bleeding and my side stings as well. I look down and see my torso is not furred. I am not a fox.
Was I ever? I can't tell if what I just experienced actually happened or not. A traveling wolf just kissed me. I stand up and start to jog towards that street light, convinced that I really did just kiss a wolf. When people ask me about my scrapes, I will say I tripped in the darkness. If I told the truth no one would believe me. I barely even believe it for myself.
"Farewell, beautiful wolf" I mutter as my jog turns into a determined run.