Hangover Quotes Wolfpack Novelas e Histórias

The huge lump sat down with such force my camp bed rattled, along with my shattered ribs. “You’re not gonna die, boss!” he opened merrily. “I’ve heard it’s important to keep talking, you know to keep going at times like this. I'll tell you that battle. Fuck me. Fuck me with a rancid pickle. It was intense. I mean it was going off! I’ve never seen wolves like it. Have you seen the bandages on me? Thought I was going to lose my goddamn calf til you showed up.”

I fucking hate my wolf… ‘Should have taken better care of yourself.’ My wolf unhelpfully pointed out. No shit... ‘Are you not meant to look out for me?’ I questioned, to which he chuckled again. I rolled over, realising with a sinking feeling that I had somehow fallen asleep on the grass outside the gym… wow. I have sunk to new levels, that is for sure. I don't even remember how I had got here. It wasn't even on my way home! I think it is safe to say I may have drunk too much when at my celebrations last night... there was definitely shots, I can remember that... That would account for the pounding head, I assume.

Jules raised his glass in quiet acknowledgment, a small, satisfied smile playing on his lips. Vincent’s gaze swept the long table. “To every wolf here, those who’ve fought beside me, those who’ve bled for the same cause, and those who’ve only just arrived, I say this, whatever storms lie beyond these walls, we face them together. No lone hunter survives the winter. But the pack…” He paused, letting the word settle. “The pack endures.” A low chorus of agreement rumbled through the room, others simply lifted their glasses. Even Finn, who rarely spoke during these moments, gave a single, firm nod.

“Wolf, what the fuck? After all you’ve done to get us out of the life, you’re going to just walk us right back in? And with fucking Crusher Alcott’s people, of all clubs?” “Whoa,” Wolf said, holding up his hands in a calming motion, not even slightly offended at the outburst and the questioning of his authority. “That ain’t it.” “What’s not it?” Scars asked, now mentally packing Zoe and Keira’s bags and shipping them out to live on an iceberg in the Arctic. “What part of ‘how far do we go back in?’ did we get wrong?” “All of it,” Wolf said crisply. “Because Ice never said ‘we’.”

I chuckled, sipping my coffee. at least I did something right with one of us… “I should probably stick to the classics next time. Lesson learned.” I sighed, popping off the lead from the bottle of aspirins while I took one and swallowed it down, hoping for my headache to clear out soon and the conversation to steer clear from my drunken night. Koda slid a plate of fluffy pancakes and crispy bacon in front of me, grinning mischievously. “Breakfast is served, oh hungover one. Eat up and feel the healing powers of good food in your body.” He told me as I felt my appetite awaken by just looking at the food. And my wolf Canin growled in appreciation, clearly agreeing with me to eat.

Although he became weaker, the cruelty and ruthlessness of someone who once rule over the savage mountain wolves is very evident. Just as when his strike reaches the wolf's neck, the young wolf screamed in horror. "Elder, no! I'm a pack member! Elder!" The attack halted and Hector's eyes momentarily flickered as if regaining his sanity. His bloodlust instantly diminished when he smell the familiar scent of the pack member. Even though the wolf in front of him had an unfamiliar face, to him, the keen sense of his kind will never betray him. He help him to get up and supported him to lean on a tree trunk on the side of the road.

It felt strange but warm at the same time. "You have soft lips," It sounds familiar, but I don't think I've ever said anything nice to him. Can werewolves get drunk easily? No, wait. I remember the drink in the red cup at my mother's town meeting. It's too strong for normal humans. The hangover felt like someone hit my head with a brick. So does that mean the people I hang out with are also creatures? “Can I say you look beautiful when you smile,” He said softly. I don't know how my heart can still skip a beat with just one word.

Someone else offered me the choicest cut from the grill with solemnity absurd enough to almost count as devotion. I ate little. Drank less. My body still wanted recovery more than celebration. But I stood among them and let their warmth settle where it could. It did not take long. One of the younger wolves started it, half-drunk on smoke and relief and old instinct. Another joined. Then another. A rhythm built. A grin flashed. Someone slammed a cup against a metal drum. “Mate,” he shouted. The word took hold at once. “Mate. Mate. Mate.”

[Slate] My head is aching as the sun shines into my room. I definitely had way too much to drink. “Serves you right,” My wolf, Sage, mocks me. “You should have had more control. What kind of Alpha gets so drunk on his first night home that he takes advantage of the first pretty she-wolf he finds.” He shakes his wolfish head at me in my mind. “Did you forget how backward this town is? You probably besmirched that poor girl’s honor!”

*** Days went by as I lived blissfully unaware until I found out the truth by ”random”. I had visited a bar to get something when I heard the ramblings from an old warrior who mentioned the fight by chance. He had drunk a great deal at the bar, and I had but plumped myself down beside him and then brought him more beer. With his fourth cup between his hands, he sighed and muttered, “A damn massacre that’s what it was.” “What?” I feigned confusion. “The eastern pack?” He scoffed. “Don’t play dumb. The one we wiped out.”