Crow Fursuit Novels & Stories

They move with a hunger that defies logic, their presence a stain upon the sanctity of this ancient place. Within seconds, they swarm the perimeter, vaulting over the masonry like ghosts in the night. They are draped in the tattered furs, heavy leather, and jagged, unrefined steel of the Shadowfang Wilds, their eyes glowing with a frenzied, drug-fueled light that makes my skin crawl.

I followed his gaze and felt my eyes widen in surprise. Wolf after wolf began to make an appearance, trotting towards us slowly before stopping a good ten feet away from us. We all watched in surprise as the crowd began to grow bigger and thicker as many continued to howl and growl at the sky. Many vibrant coloured furs surrounded us. From black to brown to white and grey, all these wolves stood tall before us until we couldn't even make out where the crowd ended. Then they all began to part and make way for this one specific wolf, who was as tall as Axil and wore the same-coloured fur. I immediately knew who it was.

Half an hour later, numerous crows circled tree branches in the drizzling rain at Mount General Cemetery. They occasionally emitted eerie sounds that resembled the cries of lost souls. Soon, this atmosphere was swiftly disrupted by a series of organized and loud sounds, causing the crows to scatter. After scattering and seeking refuge in the distance, they watched with apprehension as a crowd approached them. A thin but upright figure was walking in front, trailed by a group of burly men with menacing countenance.

Diana "CAN SOMEONE TELL me why almost every cloth I saw at the boutiques had fur on them? "Are they doing an animal theme for this year? Is that what it is?" Rudolph asked as he put all the bags down. Diana chuckled as her prediction came to pass. "Werewolves love their fur. They love displaying the animals they kill. It strokes their egos." Rudolph gave her a disgusted look. "So, you mean, if I put on one of those clothes, I would be wearing the fur of a dead animal on me."

Khloe asked surprised. "What if we get lost in the fog, I can't see in a fog and not this thick fog," she added crossing her arms around herself. "You won't get lost," Marek held her and pull her with him towards the thick fog. At first, it was quiet but the more they advance towards the unusual energy of that cave, they started hearing the sounds of a crow. crow are considered ominous creatures, they are seen as carriers of death. "Do you hear that?" Khloe asked.

"You are a vision, Queen Jarngrimr atop her bone throne cannot take her eyes off of you... look at how her hungry looks drink you down." I fingered the white fox fur dress I was in, trimmed with black sable and a velvet cloak. My fine Isa slippers were of rabbit down laced with pearls. I squeezed Fylja's hand and pet Gullinkambi atop my shoulder, looking under lidded eyes upon my Beast.

Still clinging to ashes. Keep gathering. Keep howling. It won't stop what comes. We are the Shadow Beneath the Fur. We will erase your name from the wind. ---- My blood chilled. "That's not a threat," murmured Alpha Caelin of the Northern Frosts Pack. "That's a declaration of war." "But who are they?" demanded a younger Alpha, his fists clenched. "Shadow Beneath the Fur? What kind of name is that?" "A faction?" offered another. "Some exiled blood cult? A branch of witches?"

Dawn Pack, and a fanatical joy in serving the marrow god, her laughter a silent promise of blood. The ambush struck without warning, Veyra's wolves—eight shadowy beasts with red-glowing eyes, their fur matted and corrupted—leaping from hidden ledges, claws slashing through the mist like knives in the dark. The first cult wolf slammed into a patrol member, teeth sinking into shoulder, blood spraying to stain the rocks crimson, the scent sharp and coppery in the damp air. Screams and growls erupted, the river's roar amplifying the chaos, mist swirling chaotically as bodies collided.

She felt the knot gone. She felt the power Arielle had unlocked. She shifted. Gold fur burst out. She grew. And grew. She towered over the rats. The rats looked confused. "Gold fur?" "Is that a royal?" Sera roared. It shook the alley trash cans. She swiped a massive paw. The leader flew into a dumpster. Out cold. The other rats panicked. They scrambled over each other to run. Sera didn't chase. She stood there, panting.

My clothes hung loose as my body burned through what little fat a child could carry. I was dying by degrees when they found me. Three figures emerged from the shadows like smoke given form. Rogues—I could smell it on them, that wild untethered scent that pack wolves feared. "Well, well." The woman's voice carried a trace of dark amusement. "What do we have here?" I should run. Every pack instinct screamed at me to flee. But I could barely stand, let alone escape three full-grown wolves. "Just a lost pup," said one of the men. "Probably from Crescent Moon pack. Should we just leave her?"