Owl Fursuit Novels & Stories

Her silver skin was burning with a fierce, protective heat, her anger radiating off her in visible waves of shimmering light. Alpha Wolfe stepped forward, his smile fading into a grim, professional scowl. He let out a low whistle, and from the shadows of the secondary corridors, ten more Feral wolves emerged. These ones were different from the rogues on the plateau. They were wearing heavy combat armor plates bolted directly into their flesh, their eyes burning with a stable, calculated violet light. They didn't move like mad dogs; they moved like trained soldiers.

Ronan said softly. Before she could respond, something shifted among the wolves. A figure stepped out from between them—massive, fur mottled with gray, eyes old enough to have witnessed the first Oath. It bowed deeper than the others, touching its forehead to the snow. Then it shifted—bones cracking, fur retracting, limbs rearranging. A woman rose where the wolf had been. Elderly, strong, scars woven in delicate lace across her forearms. She wore no cloak, no armor—only the frost-tattooed skin of someone who lived close to the old ways.

Lucifer stared at the wolf in astonishment. He couldn't believe what was being displayed in his view. Her stripes furs were glistering blue and her forehead has an empty hole with a pink light twilight inside. He leaned towards her to see what was inside, but as he approached further the hole darkened and the light in her fur changed to white with a stroke of pink that varied to red. But how is it possible her wolf was alive without her heart? He thought as he came closer to view the empty hole in her forehead. Which made him realize that she is an Ultima wolf.

Alpha Knight ordered for them to form a circle so everyone could face the dozen rogue wolves all around them. There was something about these wolves. Their clothes were tattered, moldy and stained in places. Their eyes were red and distant, yet held cruelty. They all were Japanese by the looks of it and smelled like wolves. But there was something else. Something none of them could pinpoint yet. ‘Olive, you be careful,’ Wayne warned in their mindlink. She was facing the other way, her fists already bared ready in defense.

They were dressed in rough furs and leathers, and their eyes, glowing with an otherworldly light, were fixed on me. My breath hitched like I'd swallowed a fistful of fur. Across the cavern, bathed in the funky glow-in-the-dark mushrooms, were a bunch of wolves unlike any I'd ever seen at bingo night with Nana. These were tall, lean dudes with fur that shimmered like moonlight on ice – way cooler than our usual brown and black. But their eyes were the real showstoppers. They glowed like someone shoved a mini rave in their heads, and they were totally fixed on me. Panic froze me solid for a sec, pushing the whole rogue-warning mission right out of my brain. "Whoa, hey there," I stammered, my v

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."

I'm putting on sneakers so there is no need for change of shoes, folding the used clothes, I return them back inside Fur. " Oh yes, one more thing", I touched Fur, "I need a scarf please, a black one". It shimmered and shooked. Then it opened, picking up the scarf I wrapped it around my head like a turban, covering my nose with the end piece , I look like an Arabian in the desert. Should be enough disguise in case one of those spies Mr healer man says reports to that asshole 'kulmar', Standing up to approach the batender, he looks like catman a little bit human-like, two hands, two legs and so on.

The transformation is seamless, graceful yet terrifying. Before me stands a wolf; but not just any wolf. He is immense, towering over even the tallest men. His eyes burn molten gold, his fur a perfect midnight hue that seems to absorb the light. Power radiates from him, tangible and undeniable. The army follows suit, turning into their wolf form one by one. They howl in unison, their heads thrown back in deference. It’s a sound that sends goosebumps racing over my skin, making me feel the unity of an unbreakable pack.

"I may be more familiar with Ms. Layla than you think." As he spoke, he took a flat wooden box from the inner pocket of his suit. It was made of redwood, polished to a shine, and had a clasp in a pure gold wolf-head design. Soren opened the lid, revealing an arm cuff. The wolf-bone arm cuff of the Northwolf pack was pure white, and its surface was carved with runes in the ancient wolf tongue. Under the sunlight, it gave off a faint silvery luster. My heart suddenly skipped a beat. I had seen that arm cuff once in my previous life.

"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.