The Silver Wolf

June sunset on a green Montana hill, the sun inching behind the Rockies bit by bit. A man and a huge wolf sit watching it, their faces growing more lined as the light fades. His hand rests gently on the wolf's shoulder: they are not master and pet, but old friends with independent lives. At one with nature around them, they say nothing, comfortable in sharing the profound silence.

A murky sliver of blood red smudges the western horizon, as blues and purples begin to dominate; a single point of light pops out, chasing the sun. The old man is Blackfoot, wearing a blue t-shirt, jeans, and Reeboks as he sits on the bare ground. His face is clean shaven, and once dark hair is long and shot through almost completely by gray. His face is somber with the weight of years. A shimmering beside him, and the wolf becomes a nude man, exceptionally tall and muscular, with blonde hair lightening to grey, a short grey beard, and dancing blue eyes. The tall man rolls onto his stomach, and his companion's hand returns to his shoulder.

"You don't know what you're missing, Running Rabbit. Sunsets are great, but in wolf form they are so much richer. There are colors no man could describe, and a pulsing of the corona that follows it over the horizon is like seeing the universe's heart beating."

"I have heard you sing of it since my boyhood, Silver Wolf, as did my father and grandfather. I could sing your song in my sleep, and probably better than you. It is only family courtesy that I pay attention any longer."

The silver head bows to the earth; snickering raises up a little dust. "Shit, you're getting mean in your old age, just like your father and grandfather. All right, I won't burden you with it again." The old man smiles.

The light fades to a blue line, and more stars emerge. A wolf calls in the distance. "You are sad, tonight. I feel the weight on your heart."

"Raising a family again is doing that, especially alone."

"You did not expect to be alone."

"I did not expect to be alone. The past fifty years have made the task more difficult than I've never known before. Raising children was easier long ago. Before the Internet, before we ceased to be a community."

The moon peeks over the eastern horizon, almost full and angry orange, reflected by high clouds. "You have the wisdom of years, and experience. Where will you go?"

"Helena. I've got a job with the university, teaching history again, the public schools are good. The world could be run from Helena these days."

The Blackfoot chuckled. "I could think of no one better the run the world. Your children will know they are different, as you did in your youth so long ago. There is more than that."

The man shifted on his side, facing away from his companion. "There is more than that. My heart is growing more fragile as the years go by. My follies grow greater, my judgement less sound."

The Native American shifts his orientation and faces the other man. "You have been gone a long time, a decade or more. The broken path I have walked more times than I can count in my life. Unfold yours to me, cousin. I still have a compassionate ear..."

***

Sarah moved through the nighttime forest, looking back as much as forward, squinting to pick up a moonlit trail between the trees. Her breath was ragged, but her pursuer was still a long way off. A lone wolf call behind her and to her right caught her attention, but it didn't seem to be on her trail. Something inside her was thrilled, being the object of a chase, and for now she savored her freedom.

She was unusually tall for a woman, well over six feet. Her long red hair was wound under a cap, her blue eyes piercing as sharp sunlight. Her pale skin was heavily freckled, and her body lean and athletic, thanks to a hard training regimen.

Her quick rest over, she ran forward, trying to put as much distance between her and her hunter as she could. She stumbled down a hill and splashed through a little creek. The water felt good on the sultry night, and an impulse took her down the channel for a half mile. The water only was up to her ankles, and finding another path that led up the other embankment, she ascended as quickly as she could.

Traveling light, she wore little beside her tracksuit, purchased earlier from a thrift shop. Other than cheap panties, her only luxury was her sports bra, built to keep the largest breasts stable during exertion, necessary if her own tits weren't going to beat her to death in her flight.

Another howl in the distance, and she giggled. They weren't close yet, maybe they wouldn't find her at all. There was a reward for that, but she didn't think about it. Sunrise was a long way off. Her woodcraft was good, she knew, as well as her survival skills. She had taken solo expeditions deep into the woods since before her college graduation five years ago, and nothing frightened her. Creek Stewart could take lessons from her.

Yet she wasn't afraid of being caught, in fact, the prospect thrilled her. Being helpless before a wild beast...she shuddered.

Cresting a hill, she caught a glimpse of the mountains in the distance. She knew where she was, and if she went north, a swamp would help cover her trail. The pungent aromas would cover her scent, she was sure.

The swamp smell hit her, and she paused to accustom herself to it. Her body told her she needed to rest, and sitting on an upended stump, she sat to swallow some rations and water from her canteen. Surely they were nowhere close. The hard part was surely over. The sounds were moving, but seemed to be moving west of her, missing her position. There were several places in the swamp she knew she couldn't be found. All she had to do is get to one, and she could sleep the rest of the night.

On the edge of the swamp it happened. A simple snare: a rope caught her ankle and hoisted her foot ten feet in the air. She hung there, embarrassed more than terrified, caught by an elementary trap. It was well hidden, doubtless dozens of these waited for her. It wasn't fair. They were supposed to chase her down...

Only a minute later, a large, naked man strode into the clearing she just vacated, and the harsh breathing of many unknown creatures came from the woods around them. He was taller than her, a muscular man in his fifties, with blonde hair and beard which was shifting from blond to gray. A smile creased his face. "Well, well, well, my pretty. Fancy meeting you here."

"Cheater!"

"I don't think so, Sarah. We didn't agree NOT to use traps. And I knew you might come here. You think you're the only one who knows this swamp? Surely the Louisiana myths should have warned you."

Sarah tried to shake her bond loose, but it was impossible. "All right Barry, what's next? You're gonna cut me down and then?"

The man walked forward, his cock stirring in the faint light, and held his hand in front of him. "Not so fast, Sarah. I want to savor this moment. Test you. Use you." He stroked her jacket, making her shiver. "This is a moment to be savored. You are fearless, which is good. Your heart is beating fast." He probed her crotch after stroking her thighs. Moving around, he squeezed her butt, one side, then the other, patting it, then returning to stroke the fabric covering her slit. "You will let me move your clothing aside? You will let me touch your flesh?"

She nodded. "What choice to I have, Barry? Yes, I agree."

"This is what you hoped for."

"Yes, this is what I hoped for. Oh, I'll give you a year to stop that..."

Gasping, she struggled a little bit more, then succumbed to his touch. The blood was rushing to her head; her libido intoxicated her.

"You will let me in here?" He whispered in her ear. She nodded urgently, wanting to feel his touch on her skin. Her sweat pants were pulled up, a sharp nail tore her panties and pulled them off roughly. Spreading her legs, a sharp fingernail teased her lower lips, drawing forth her dew. The teasing drew a cry from her lips, which dissolved in the thick, moist air between the trees. A wolf call nearby sent a chill down her spine, and the teasing finger plunged into her vagina.

She tried to buck against it, but with one leg bound to the heavens and the other swinging free, there was little leverage. The finger played her like a virtuoso, sending her over slopes like her recent dash through the rolling, wooden hills, and she felt her orgasm starting to build.

His hands reached out to her waist, and pulled her top down exposing everything from her neck to her waist, and making her top drop down to cover her head, creating a blindfold. A sharp nail traced her skin, making her gasp. His hand pawed her breasts lightly before they ripped off her sports bra, letting her big tits hang free. The nipples perked up immediately in the cool air, and he stroked them with his nails. A shimmering, and he changed a little into a half human, half wolf, with huge claws. A long tongue came out to lick her nipples, flicking them, while his digits left red trails in her milky white skin, which glowed in the moonlight.

It was like riding a merry-go-round on a roller coaster, sensations carrying her wildly out of control. The finger returned to her cunt, and a wooden switch started to kiss her buttocks. Her journey to the mountaintop seemed to last forever, and she sailed off the top to hang in midair before she fell thousands of feet into unconsciousness.