Little Wolf

Ch 14 Just a Run

I just shrugged. That was a question I wanted an answer to myself.

I didn't get off the bike when I dropped Derrick off.

"So, what's going on?" Derrick asked as he fastened the helmet on the back.

"I'm about to find out, " I informed him. "Mac and I are good, at least. Don't wait up for me."

I left Derrick standing in the front yard while I headed to the gas station by the interstate. My mind was going faster than my bike, and I had to remind myself to watch my speed. When I got there, I rolled in toward the back of the lot, staying on the bike.

He was there.

I motioned for him to follow me as I took off down the interstate. I wanted to be where I wouldn't have to worry about other people. I pulled into a turnaround next to some woods. I went in far enough that even if a cop were there, he wouldn't see the parked bikes.

Getting off, I stripped to just my jeans. He got off his bike, took off his helmet and jacket, and came before me, dropping to his knees again. I didn't complain this time.

"Change form," I commanded.

I needed answers, and the first thing I needed to know was that the man before me was a werewolf. Even though I could smell the wolf on him, some part of me wanted to verify it. I wanted to see what kind of wolf he was.

He paled before stripping before me. He kept his eyes down like he was afraid to look at me. The changes to his body happened slow and painfully. It took over an hour. I could tell the man was trying not to make noise. The werewolf's groans, muffled cries, and finally, his bitten back screams filled the night.

Add this kind of slow and painful transition to the list of things that never occurred to me.

The biker was finally full wolf before me. He cowered down until his belly was pushing into the ground. He slowly rolled over; tail curled up against his stomach, throat stretched out, eyes closed. He was so terrified at this point; he piddled on himself.

I had sat and watched, still human, feeling mortified and slightly sickened as I watched him become a humongous black and tan colored wolf. I took my hands now, put them on his face, running my hands briefly across his body and neck. I applied enough pressure to get him to roll back over. I brought his head up.

"Look at me. No," I said as the giant wolf started to look back down, "keep looking at me. I'm sorry. I wouldn't have had you change if I knew it was like that for you. I can assure you that you have nothing to fear from me. It's obvious that your experience hasn't been good."

I sighed, looking around. The median between the freeways was dark. The bikes were out of sight. I smiled down at him. I needed him to relax more. We still had a good 4 hours before false dawn. Call it three if it was going to take him that long to change back.

"Will you do me the honor of running with me tonight?"

He bowed his head down again, tucking it tight against his chest. He sunk to the ground. He still smelled terrified.

"Watch."

I grinned as I added my jeans to the rest of my stuff. I started with my feet this time. I counted to myself as I shifted at my top speed. Twenty-two seconds later, I gave myself a shake from head to tail, grinning again.

I nudged my companion with my nose, giving his face a brief lick to reassure him. I had my rump in the air, tail high and waving slightly. I swatted him lightly with a front paw, leaping away, then jumping back, gently slapping his paw before pouncing away.

He didn't move, unsure of what I expected of him. He had no idea how to play.

I meandered around for a while before relieving myself on my back tire. I woofed at him and ran a little distance away. I ignored him for a while as I sniffed around, moving farther and farther away from him. It took a half-hour for him to start moving around.

I remembered that he couldn't smell. That would severely limit his experience as a wolf. As he got closer, I moved on, picking up speed. I made sure I stayed within his sights. He stumbled after me through the woods, his enormous form crashing into trees as his feet betrayed him again and again.

A clumsy wolf was another thing I had never imagined. He had no idea how to walk at first. His total inexperience made no sense to me. If he'd been bitten two years ago, he should at least have some idea how to move.

I ghosted for awhile at full speed. The other werewolf had no chance of keeping up with me. I circled back around, stalking him. He was still blindly running forward. I could smell his panic.

I purposely rushed him, knocking him off his feet. He yelped, half snarling, teeth bared until he saw me standing a few feet away, wolf laughing.

He piddled again, sinking down, whimpering, head bowing down and tucked in, then turned to expose his neck to me.

I walked over and started to lay next to him, but the smell of his piss was strong. I pushed him forward a bit before pushing him down, laying next to him and resting my head over him protectively.

We stayed that way for a while before he finally relaxed just a little. He still smelled of fear.

I would have spent more time just laying there, but I wasn't sure how long it would take to get back to the bikes. It wouldn't take me long by myself. With his nose, I wasn't even sure he could find the bikes, despite the fact we were still in the median between two strips of road.

Getting up, I gave myself a good shake. I took a few steps then looked back at him. He got up but then cowered back down, piddling again. I groaned to myself. I marked a tree then pushed him over to the tree. Could I make it any clearer what I wanted him to do? He finally released a long stream, looking somehow embarrassed as he did—nothing he did made sense.

I headed back to the bikes at a slow, leisurely loping pace. He managed to keep up with me this time. I got the impression he was pushing himself, panting as he ran.

I mentally shook my head. He was working twice as hard as he needed to. He had no idea how to lope.  He had no idea how to do anything. We got back to the bikes with no problem.

I quickly shifted back to human and slid on my jeans. When I turned back around, he was belly up again.

"Dude, I neither need nor want you to act that way around me. It goes against everything my dad taught me. It isn't how wolves act. It's way too extreme. I told you. You have nothing to fear from me. Just relax, dude. It's cool. Can you shift back?"

A good forty-five minutes later, my companion started reaching for his clothes.

I watched him, slightly bemused, from where I was leaning against my bike. I had never fathomed a wolf that didn't know how to be a wolf. I had no idea what to make of all this.

He was moving slowly, his hands shaking. I stopped him before he put his shirt on.

"Turn around."

He obliged me, eyes down, of course.

"That's an unusual tattoo you have there. It goes all the way around. Oh, don't you dare piddle on yourself again."

His fear had spiked, combined with shame. He brought one hand up to his neck, fingering it.

"It's my collar," he whispered. The smell of shame increased dramatically.

I stalked away from my bike and toward him in a second. "What!?"

What kind of man would do that to another?

I should have controlled my outrage. My outburst had him piddling on himself. Again.

So frustrating!

"Finish getting dressed, my friend; then we're going to go have that talk!"