Wolf Girl Ch 05

He watched the woman emerge from the tent and walk to the smoldering smoke of the campfire. The wet dewy dawn all around was gray but paling shade by shade. He licked his chops, imagining. Just a few bounds and he would be on her, the man in the tent would hear and come out and Feng would kill him and have the woman.

As the woman went about the task of making coffee, she bent forward in the short green shorts and Feng could feel a small twitch inside him. The man wanted her for her body just as the wolf wanted her for her scent. It was maddening.

You torture yourself.

Feng looked over to see his father, smaller than he, but much older, curling his tail around his haunches as he sat and observed with measured disinterest the shapely woman only yards away.

I wasn’t going to do anything.

Garth cocked his head at his young son, the last of his male heirs, studying him. Of course you weren’t, I’ve forbidden interference with them. We hunt only other animals now, it is less complicated-- a simpler life.

Still... Feng looked back at the woman, her shapely legs and red hair, pulled back from her pale freckled face. I do miss it.

He remembered a woman like her. Years ago he had gone rogue and found her by a cottage washing clothes. He recalled breasts of soft white with pink nipples. He remembered green eyes and long slender arms and legs.

Forget your past, my son. Forget that human woman. She is long dead.

Feng fought the impulse to glare at his father. Yes, I know. I saw you kill her. He watched as the woman waited for the coffee, she let her hair down and it fell forward in such a way as she could run her fingers through it. And her human child..

Garth let a hot breath burst from his nose. The woman looked up and around but did not see them hidden in the thicket. She went back to combing her hair with her fingers. You shouldn’t let memories haunt you. We must all forget the past and set an example for our young.

Feng let a small growl escape his lips as he watched the woman pour the coffee. She seemed to be admiring the greenery of the large trees as she set the little tin cup on a rock and put her hair back up again. She stretched, her back a supine symphony of little pops that Feng fancied he could hear even from the thicket. Then the woman turned to look at the tent. Her mate, a good looking rugged sort with blonde hair, came out. He was bare from the waist and together they looked so natural it made Feng want to lunge and end them both then and there.

Smiling as he moved toward her, she met him half way and the coffee was forgotten. Feng looked to Garth, though his fathers face was calm Feng knew they were both remembering what it had been like to lie with human women. They remembered the feel of hands clutching flesh, of joy in the act.

Life may be less complicated as wolves, father, Feng thought. But you have to admit, being a man had its finer points. Men have love and honor and sensuality. What do we have?

Responsibilities. Garth flicked his tongue over his chops to make the point. A pack.

Our pack? Those animals we adopted who run with us? Feng wanted to spit. Most of them never were human.

The man and woman were on the grass now in the clearing. Clothes had been discarded. He was kissing his way over her pelvic bone causing her to laugh lightly. Feng longed for a time when he’d made women giggle. He exhaled the words under his breath, “Lucky bastard.”

He was gone then, following his father, the young campers none the wiser of their presence or departure.

***

“What do you mean, ‘gone’?” Feng shifted his weight to all four paws, standing in his shock.

The two sat on rocks, the wolves below looking up at them uncomprehending but fearful.

Garth looked down at them, he disliked talking in front of them. It made them nervous and less likely to follow him. He chose his words with great economy.

“Left...” he growled. “Moon.”

Feng scowled at his father. “And you knew?”

Garth let his head bob in an obvious nod.

“And they knew?” He indicated the pack of common wolves.

Garth let his head fall, an obvious sign of remorse.

Feng paced a moment and then looked at the pack. “She must be brought back. I must see her.”

Garth stood. “No,” he barked. “Gone.”

Feng glared at his father and the pack, he was tired of it. Had been tired of it for some time. He felt the change more than willed it, and as the pack scattered, only his father looked on. “Clothes?”

The grey wolf looked off in a direction. Feng went and found the boulder. He pried it up to find the garments his father and he had hidden once long ago, wrapped in oil-cloth bound with twine. When he had dressed, he did not bother to look over his shoulder in the direction of the rocks. Had he done so, he would have seen only the grey wolf looking on without emotion...