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It was a cold morning when the dark grey feral wolf stepped out of his den. He had been asleep for a while, and after ignoring the prospect of waking up more than a few times, had finally gotten to his feet at the urging of a pressing thirst and stalked out of the shadow of the cave and into the sun - as much as it could be called that. Where clouds did not blanket the sky, he could see stark pale blue as cool as the air that bit into his fur, after leaving the warm confines of the den.

He'd been needing to get up and do something, anyway: joints stiff and limbs sore from a long nap, the wolf - name of Kage - had to stretch his forelegs first, and then his rear legs, and then his front legs again, and his rear legs... and still almost slipped on a loose rock on the way down the slope leading from the cave. Summer, and yet slick frost still clung to most surfaces, That was what came with living in a northern area, though.

A pleasant river cut through the landscape a bit of a ways from the cave, its location known to Kage by memory; he continued stretching out his legs and flicking the dust out of his ears on the way there, also taking the time to look around, see the way the sun cut through spaces in the clouds, how the ground was littered with stiff pine needles and other smaller brush. No particularly strange smells stuck out to him - but that might partially be due to how he had simply rolled onto his side during his sleep to empty his bladder, not particularly caring if it got into his fur or not. He, like most wolves, drew a strange sort of pleasure from being able to detect his own scent strong on anything, even his own side. The scent had gone stale with time, though - he felt like he had slept at least half a day, twice as long as usual. Yesterday's - or was it the day before, now? - hunt had left him quite exhausted, enough so that after getting his fill of flesh, he returned to his den, lay his head down, and fell right asleep, totally forgetting about bringing the rest of the meat back for later.

After a short while, the stream finally came into view, rolling over the whitish-green grass of the area speckled with the bright colors of various flowers. One of his favorite things to do after first waking up was leave his den and look out over the area below; the surroundings gave him no small amount of satisfaction to look around at as he dipped the end of his muzzle into the flowing water. It, too, was cold, about as cold as the surface of smooth stone during a long night, but damn, was it good to drink something. Again and again he lapped at the water, feeling it roll down his throat just as it rolled over the smooth rocks at its bed, at the same time picking up faint hints of other animals that had crossed through the stream: another wolf, a bear (or so he thought, given the heavy muskiness that he thought he tasted), some other things. Maybe he would go right back to sleep after getting his fill.

That would be a while, though, as he quickly discovered he was thirstier than he first thought. His tongue and gums had almost gone numb by the time he had finally quenched his thirst, and after he had, Kage lifted his muzzle, looked again at the sun - still fairly early morning; the crisp blue of the sky between greyish-white clouds carried a tinge of orange near the horizon - and then dragged his lips over his chops before stepping through the river with the intention of washing the heavy scent of his stale piss out of his fur.

That also took a while, and after he'd finished that, he was considerably more awake than before he'd taken a full-body dip into the chill of the stream water, but now he was also very wet and very cold. Stepping out on the other side of the river, Kage took a moment to shake out his fur and then continued on his way, knowing that the chill would go away as long as he remained moving. Staying still would cause the leftover moisture of the water to freeze to his fur, which - he knew from experience - didn't feel very good.

Past the river, the trees thickened into a kind of thin forest, with enough space between the trunks to allow quite a bit of light in while still giving the comfort (or discomfort, depending) of being in an enclosed space. Kage picked up the unmistakable scent of a deer, a buck, against a patch of revealed flesh along one of the trunks; must be that time of year when they scrape their antlers against rough bark to relieve the itching of new growth. That always made hunting easier, but Kage had no desire to eat right now, and nor did he really want to put in the effort to chase a deer down. After rubbing his nose against the patch of scent for a moment, he perked his ears, tilted his head, and went on past it.

Part of him just wanted to lie down and go back to sleep, but he knew that he couldn't. Besides, a desire different from thirst or hunger pulsed in him, mainly between his rear legs; it had been a few days, and a feral male almost always has the want somewhere in his mind. _That_would be a good way to warm him up, and he could have sworn that he tasted the scent of another wolf in the waters of the river... and that was a fairly fast-flowing river, so it was possible that that other wolf still lingered nearby.

Decision made, Kage perked his ears, lifted his nose into the air (though past the aroma of pine, flowers just starting to bloom, and eager young deer, he couldn't really find much of anything), and bounded off towards where the thought that scent had come from, further up the stream and out of the forest. Past tall boulders and over grassy ridges, close to another suspicious cave that he steered clear of - it smelled like a large mountain cat that Kage didn't really enjoy the thought of tangling with - and further along the river, until the scent of the wolf abruptly stopped.

Just about that time, the volume of water he had drunk after waking up had made its way through his body, and now added a different pressure to his lower abdomen. Kage nosed around in the short grasses and over the rocks around where the scent had cut off, but finding nothing, let his ears droop for a moment and walked around in a circle. Not only did he want to empty the heavy, thick-furred sack that hung between his legs, but he wanted to empty his bladder, too.

He'd been on his own for a while, and he was alone here, too...

After another moment of thought, the stone-grey wolf padded over to an array of taller boulders, sniffed at it - there lingered the fading scent of some long-past marking, one he didn't recognize - and lifted his leg, keeping his gaze wandering in case some other predator decided to sneak up on him. As soon as he started, though, he forgot about his lookout, and promptly closed his eyes in the sweet bliss of releasing the pressure between his legs.

Gradually the scent of his own mark wafted up and tickled at his nose, too - sharp, heavy, musky, even despite the volume of water behind it. It was the same odor that he had slept in the previous night, the same one that brought him, again, a sort of pleasure in smelling; Kage adjusted his stance and angled his muzzle back and a little bit beneath himself, out of the range of his arc of yellow urine but still close enough to double the strength of the scent, and every now and then catch a stray splash on his nose... he swallowed, wagged his tail, leaned in further-

-and then ended up losing his balance. He tumbled over himself so that he lay on his back between the rocks, upper body on the slightly piss-soaked earth while his rear had been propped up by more rocks... which all caused his piss to empty out directly into the ash-grey fur of his chest and stomach, where it clung briefly before coursing down his side to the grass beneath him. Such sweet, welcome warmth on a cold day, with quite an enjoyable spice of a scent to go with it... Kage wriggled down further and lifted his legs up, changing the angle of his stream so that instead of soaking into his chest, it landed directly at the top of his muzzle and nose.

He closed his eyes, taking long, slow inhalations through his nose of the aroma of his own mark as it dripped down his muzzle and neck, warming him through to the skin and soaking him all over again - and he still had a ways to go, too, given how long he had spent with his snout in the water of the river earlier. Still rich golden-yellow, heavy-scented with a lingering bite... the wolf shifted the angle of his hips again, arcing his unbroken stream down across the front of his nose, over his lips, against his chin.

When he opened his mouth, the first thought to cross his mind was how surprisingly strongly his piss tasted - the same as its scent, but a little stronger, a little meatier; the second was how much he enjoyed that taste and scent, evidenced in how the reddish-pink tip of his cock slowly emerged from the supple skin of his sheath. He closed his eyes against the remaining drops that hung in his fur there and opened his mouth wider; each swallow allowed him to feel the intense heat and spice of his mark course down his throat, leaving a strong, lingering aftertaste at the back of his mouth and making the surface of his broad, flat tongue tingle just a little.

Still his stream went strong, though he _could_feel the relief of it start to wane a little; having gotten his fill of his own taste, the wolf shifted his rump again to finish marking himself from his neck to his chest. What with that sharp taste still burning across his tongue, his cock continued growing from his sheath until, veined and halfway between fleshy red and sweet white, it stopped as his stream also did, the wide bulge of his knot stretching the smooth-furred skin of his sheath.

Kage swallowed once more, ran his tongue over his lips dripping with piss - which only rejuvenated the strength of the taste in his mouth; not only that, but each inhalation brought it back to him yet again - and then leaned up to lick off the last of what dripped out of the tapered tip of his cock, which wasn't too hard for him. He spent a few moments more than necessary dragging his tongue over the sensitive flesh of his length, mixing the sharp flavor of piss on his tongue and in his throat with the deeper, headier taste of his own musk and arousal.

Finally, though, the wolf rolled to the side - a considerable puddle of his mark had gathered in the grass around him - and lifted himself up to his feet, then shook off his fur. He took another moment to enjoy the thorough marking of himself and the earth and rocks around him, though still desired to do something about the throbbing heat hanging between his legs: though his bladder had been emptied, his balls still remained as filled and heavy as when he had first awoken.

Not here, though; the place already absolutely reeked of his scent. Standing up (and no longer feeling the slightly uncomfortable sloshing of a bladder full of piss), Kage glanced around for a while and then decided to head further up along the river, on a slope up a gentle hill that curved out of the nearby mountain. Since he was a pup, he remembered every now and then a great iron beast of a train rolling around the side of this hill - though through his life, their deep, brassy calls had become more and more sparse and then stopped completely, as did the earth-shaking rumbling that they always brought with them.

As he approached the tracks crossing over the river, the first thing to catch his attention was an abandoned traincar pushed haphazardly against the wall of a ridge, as if some giant had picked it up, tossed it, and left it where it landed. Kage quickened his pace towards it, detecting no new scents as he approached other than the unmistakable tang of iron and rust. That was good: that meant that he wouldn't be enjoying himself right in the den of another pack of wolves or a bear or something. Something like that had happened to him once, and he barely escaped with his tail - besides, he didn't really want the mood to be ruined by unexpected visitors.

He took caution to step over the iron rails and between the wooden boards of the track, and then hopped up through the open door of the car. The exterior walls of the car, a caboose, had been painted cherry crimson-red, but in its time lying here out in the elements, had since turned a more rocky, dried-blood color, with uneven patches of rust growing out of the bolts. The entire thing creaked under the large wolf's weight when he first jumped up into it, but remained stable; on uneven footing, he carefully made his way to one of the back corners of the caboose and resumed the position that he had held on the rocks, the tilted walls and floor of the car allowing him to do so and remained propped up easily.

His knot had deflated since his impromptu thirst-quenching - the taste still buzzed slightly at the back of his throat - but the reddish-pink flesh of his cock still protruded a good way out of his sheath, in bright contrast to the dark fur of his lower belly. After wiggling down into a more comfortable position, the wolf lifted his legs up and then reached his forepaws down his chest, providing something for him to thrust up between... sure, it was no tight rump, but it was better than nothing. At the first feeling of pressure, his instincts took over and his hips jabbed forward again and again into the paws pressing at the rim of his sheath, pulling it back at the same time that his cock continued to slide out further.

Bright, familiar pleasure washed over him, and he closed his eyes. The hot piss in his fur had dried somewhat and still smelled about as strongly as it did when it was fresh, but now did so with a slightly different scent, one that still scent a sweet tickling along his spine and made him want to thrust faster and harder... before long, the bulge of his knot again strained under the skin of his sheath, and he kept it there for a moment while enjoying the feeling.

This particularly wolf was well-endowed enough that, when fully hard, his shaft reached about halfway up his chest - and due to the natural limberness of a wild wolf, he found it quite easy to just tilted his head down, squeeze together a little, and flick his tongue out over the soft, warm tip of his pulsing length, slowly oozing salty pre as he continued thrusting.

When he tugged his sheath back behind his knot and squeezed his paws there beneath the base, another wave of desire rippled through him and he spent a few seconds just tugging on himself, feeling like a tie before he had even gotten there yet. He still had quite a bit of time left, and intended to fully enjoy that time.

Kage opened his eyes and looked down at himself, at the long, thick red length twitching and pulsing, glistening with liquid musk and arousal and steadily dripping more pre onto his waiting tongue; at the wide bulge of his knot held tightly between his paws above the wrinkled skin of his sheath, pushed back; and then, past that, his heavy, full sack hanging down a little, size suitable to match his cock. He shifted one of his paws down to that sack, feeling its sweet warmth on the pad of his paw, rolling around the large, heavy balls that it held... one of the best feelings he had found was to slap those balls of his against a partner's rump, again and again and again.

The thick red length pulsing beneath that full sack, though... that had been buried in his own muzzle more than a few times, doable partially through its size and through the wolf's natural flexibility. He knew that most feral canids could do it, but still, he took pride in being able to almost knot his own muzzle... the only problem lay in how his knot was too wide for his mouth.

Still, though, it felt damn nice to close his lips around the first few inches of his hard cock and keep it cupped in the soft flesh of his tongue while thrusting forward and back, forward and back both into his paws after he moved them back as well as his own muzzle... he closed his eyes again, nose close to his meaty knot and hanging sack so that all he breathed was his own musk. He slowed the speed of his thrusts so he could savor the taste and feeling both on his tongue and along his length He pressed forward into his lips, along the smooth, moist surface of his tongue, then pulled back out until the firmness of the lower three-quarters or so of his length changed to the soft, almost squishiness of his tip.

Kage uncurled and got back into his original position, with legs held up high along the tilted floor of the car. Now the taste that lingered on his tongue and lips was that of the flesh of his cock, the musk inside his sheath, and the familiar tang of his own pre, slick and warm along the surface of his tongue. A string of saliva hung off the tapered tip of his cock along with a few more drops of that pre, steadily growing in volume as he still thrust between his paws again and again - after removing his length from his own muzzle, he had returned his paws to their proper position right beneath the base of his knot to tug on it, to provide something to push into.

He had to swallow, then, as another sharp wave of pleasure bolted through him, and remained half-curled up in the air over himself again at the feeling of a fast-approaching orgasm - but stopped just before, held his breath, and closed the difference between his nose and the oozing tip of his cock. Then, scent of his own musk sharp on his nose, he opened his muzzle and dove down onto himself once again, and then again, and then again, giving into the want to push his hips forward, to squeeze his knot closer and closer to his lips tight around the veined flesh of his cock-

And then he did end up pushing himself over the edge. First was a body-shaking shudder, followed by a low, rumbling moan deep in the back of his throat - and then a hot wave of thick, bittersweet seed out against the back of his throat, his tongue, filling his muzzle, bulging out his cheeks in two, three, four spurts... he swallowed down what had been caught in his muzzle before uncurling again, shooting the rest of his load out into the fur of his neck, upper chest, and belly, and then against the wall of the railcar behind him, where it landed with a metallic noise. Each spurt sent another wave of relief and pleasure through the wolf, and when he had finished, cock dripping whitish cum, he leaned back forward to lap off the last of what dripped out of his throbbing length, enjoying the taste and feeling of it on his tongue...

Another feeling came over him then, though, and after yet again closing his lips around the first two inches of his cock, he closed his eyes, pulled in a slow breath - and felt the relief of emptying his bladder again, directly out into his closed mouth. Apparently he hadn't gotten it all out before. His piss now, slightly less strongly-spiced than before, gave him something satisfying and pleasant to wash down the thick slickness of his cum with, and just like with that, he let it bulge out his cheeks and even leak out his lips and down his chin a little before swallowing it down, the intense warmth of the salty liquid making him shiver with pleasure all over again.

He wriggled closer to himself, bringing his cock deeper into his muzzle until his strong stream of piss emptied out directly against the back of his throat, giving him little time to swallow down mouthful after mouthful, but still he did. His knot, still very much inflated and throbbing, gave him a good stopping point - but still he tried to work down further, keeping himself hilted in his own muzzle until his piss died down and then pinched off. This time, he held off on swallowing the last half-mouthful, trying to catch the last of the little drips; then, he swirled his tongue around, allowing the slick warmth to cover the flesh of his cock and the surface of his mouth's interior, and swallowed it down.

Sweet, heavy exhaustion weighed down on him, and when he finally uncurled to get up and leave, his legs wobbled briefly underneath him and he had trouble climbing up the slanted floor. After hopping out of the traincar and into the light of day again - his cock had not yet retreated into its sheath - he was reminded of how strongly he reeked of first sharp wolf piss and now thick seed as well, clinging to his fur, matting it down... that would be a bit of an embarrassment if he were to encounter someone while wearing this particular assortment of scents, so he made his way for the river again.

At least half of his bladder's volume had gone right back into his belly; doubtless he'd have to go through this same process of washing his scent out of his own fur at least once more today.