Get On My Level, Do You Think You Could Handle It?
We're both barely beyond puppyhood, but he's already changed so much. His feet are no longer oversized...don't get me wrong. They're feet any wolf would be proud of! Sturdy, big enough to spread the sound of his weight gliding over leaves so evenly that he barely makes a sound...and I like when he crosses his paws over mine at night in his sleep. I look at them from time to time when they are lazily flopped atop mine, and I like the size difference. Though I won't tell him...it makes me feel...safe.
...well, enough about his goddamn paws...he's grown into his frame too, a long and well muscled frame. Bigger than mine, and well furred. When we play after a hunt or when the stiffness of sleep is finally gone from waking up, he pins me more easily than I would like to admit. And then...then he's so close that he's touching me...and he's so warm...
...okay...enough about his goddamn everything. I don't have time to think about things like this. A young wolf without a real pack has to make her way in the world and do it fast. True, it's nice to have a nice...eh..."distraction"...from time to time, but this...this is getting ridiculous.
Alright, ridiculous is the wrong word. Thinking about the severity of the truth of what I feel when he's around...well, it makes me pin my ears back, and it flushes my cheeks like the bitter cold of a winter breeze. It's more than a distraction from my current path...if I allow it to go farther...it'll be a complete departure.
I don't know. Maybe I'll surprise him the next time he oh-so-innocently lays his sharp featured face across my sensitive back. Do a bit more than bristle my fur at him and play bite at his scruff. Wonder what he'd do if I called his bluff for once.
I think I'll risk it. If we can separate the pups from the wolves, so to speak, if he can prove he's worth my time, maybe I'll let him be more than just a distraction...
Just a cute little quick cell shaded type drawing for my good friend, footpad of his character and Wielder being flirty. They're both young here...probably in their second or third year, and Wielder doesn't even have her earrings or her scar on her chest yet. These two are my official favorite feral couple right now. Damn Footpad for his awesome writing and character!
Done with copic markers, micron inks, colored pencil, and white gel pen on regular sketchbook paper.
...well, enough about his goddamn paws...he's grown into his frame too, a long and well muscled frame. Bigger than mine, and well furred. When we play after a hunt or when the stiffness of sleep is finally gone from waking up, he pins me more easily than I would like to admit. And then...then he's so close that he's touching me...and he's so warm...
...okay...enough about his goddamn everything. I don't have time to think about things like this. A young wolf without a real pack has to make her way in the world and do it fast. True, it's nice to have a nice...eh..."distraction"...from time to time, but this...this is getting ridiculous.
Alright, ridiculous is the wrong word. Thinking about the severity of the truth of what I feel when he's around...well, it makes me pin my ears back, and it flushes my cheeks like the bitter cold of a winter breeze. It's more than a distraction from my current path...if I allow it to go farther...it'll be a complete departure.
I don't know. Maybe I'll surprise him the next time he oh-so-innocently lays his sharp featured face across my sensitive back. Do a bit more than bristle my fur at him and play bite at his scruff. Wonder what he'd do if I called his bluff for once.
I think I'll risk it. If we can separate the pups from the wolves, so to speak, if he can prove he's worth my time, maybe I'll let him be more than just a distraction...
Just a cute little quick cell shaded type drawing for my good friend, footpad of his character and Wielder being flirty. They're both young here...probably in their second or third year, and Wielder doesn't even have her earrings or her scar on her chest yet. These two are my official favorite feral couple right now. Damn Footpad for his awesome writing and character!
Done with copic markers, micron inks, colored pencil, and white gel pen on regular sketchbook paper.
Category Artwork (Traditional) / Animal related (non-anthro)
Species Wolf
Size 1280 x 931px
File Size 578 kB
I can't believe how she's changed. We were pups -- she was all paws and ears and she kept tripping over herself. Now, the way she moves... she's like morning mist on four paws. Never a hesitation, never a wasted movement. A grown wolf, lithe and strong. When we're together I can't look away from her...
... except that no matter how secretly I try to watch her, she always notices, and then she gives me that look, that secretive smiling dark-eyed look, the one that makes my heart trip and hammer, and leaves me breathless as if I've just run down a deer. Then she nips me on the shoulder and runs away.
And we play tag, dashing after one another, dodging and nipping and laughing. I'm taller than her, longer-legged, bulkier and stronger, but she's faster. She could easily outrun me, yet she toys with me, running just ahead with her sleek slim hindquarters bare inches from my muzzle, mocking me with her laugh and yet drawing me on too, and every breath I take is scented with her.
Then eventually I catch her, and I know she's let me catch her but that's part of the thrill, and I throw my forepaw up on her back and my snout on her rump, and she looks up at me over her shoulder and gives me that radiant shining-eyed laugh. Surely it's just a game to her, surely she can't feel like I do, surely there's nothing more behind that fey laughing light in her gaze. Surely she can't possibly feel what I feel when I press my muzzle and forepaw down on her -- the sense of sheer overwhelming rightness, the feeling of everything falling into place. Such a simple gesture, meaningless yet intensely meaningful, with so many layers of significance that I long to discover. In those moments the world becomes all about her -- her laughter, her warmth, her litheness and her scent.
Then she twists round and nips my ear and makes me yelp. And even when she hurts me I welcome it, because that's my cue to run after her again, and just maybe put my forepaw on her back and once more feel that somehow, more than any wolf who ever came before me, I'm within a paw's breadth of knowing heaven.
... if only, if only, she felt the same as I.
... except that no matter how secretly I try to watch her, she always notices, and then she gives me that look, that secretive smiling dark-eyed look, the one that makes my heart trip and hammer, and leaves me breathless as if I've just run down a deer. Then she nips me on the shoulder and runs away.
And we play tag, dashing after one another, dodging and nipping and laughing. I'm taller than her, longer-legged, bulkier and stronger, but she's faster. She could easily outrun me, yet she toys with me, running just ahead with her sleek slim hindquarters bare inches from my muzzle, mocking me with her laugh and yet drawing me on too, and every breath I take is scented with her.
Then eventually I catch her, and I know she's let me catch her but that's part of the thrill, and I throw my forepaw up on her back and my snout on her rump, and she looks up at me over her shoulder and gives me that radiant shining-eyed laugh. Surely it's just a game to her, surely she can't feel like I do, surely there's nothing more behind that fey laughing light in her gaze. Surely she can't possibly feel what I feel when I press my muzzle and forepaw down on her -- the sense of sheer overwhelming rightness, the feeling of everything falling into place. Such a simple gesture, meaningless yet intensely meaningful, with so many layers of significance that I long to discover. In those moments the world becomes all about her -- her laughter, her warmth, her litheness and her scent.
Then she twists round and nips my ear and makes me yelp. And even when she hurts me I welcome it, because that's my cue to run after her again, and just maybe put my forepaw on her back and once more feel that somehow, more than any wolf who ever came before me, I'm within a paw's breadth of knowing heaven.
... if only, if only, she felt the same as I.
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