Roxanne Wolf Drawing Novels & Stories

My eyes drifted to the walls. Drawings, no, portraits covered them. Red wolves in every form imaginable. Some were fierce, captured mid-snarl, teeth bared and eyes blazing with something wild and unyielding. Others were calmer, regal even, standing tall with an almost human dignity. A few were sketched in charcoal, rough but alive with motion. Others were painted in rich oils, every strand of fur detailed so carefully it almost seemed like they could step out of the canvas. There were battles depicted too. Wolves standing against shadows, against flames, against things I couldn’t quite make out but somehow understood were enemies. And in between them, quieter pieces, wolves resting beneath t

She walked unsteadily–tired from the run and opened the barred door. She went to one of the piles of paintings still stored there. Jonea picked up a painting she still needed to finish. Jonea originally intended to give the painting to Aland on his graduation day. Jonea opened the cover of the painting. She noticed a picture of a gray-white wolf that looked so beautiful. On the back of the wolf figure was a sketch that Jonea had yet to complete. Jonea covered the painting again with a cloth. Her hands drooped to the sides of her body.

as much pain as I am in, there has to be a better way around it than that…. I focused on my painting in front of me, I was painting a picture of the edge of the forest with the light of the moon shining down from the dark night sky, adding a wolf laying on the grass in front of the trees, illuminated by the moon…. the wolf I found myself painting looked like Logan’s wolf, a majestic young Alpha wolf, with a deep, Dark grey coat, the light from the moon highlighting the black shadows within his thick fur, eyes of jet black….. like black jewels reflecting the moonlight….he was beautiful…. I thought …. Just like I knew he would be…..

I replied to him but as soon as I spelled the name ‘Paul’, I gasped. “What happened? What is it?” Karien inquired as he saw me gasped all of sudden. I looked at him and asked, “Do you remember what was the shade of the wolf fur, and how big was he?” “He had slightly golden brown, white-colored mix fur and not so big as I saw a werewolf in movies. I don’t think he was a strong wolf but he was there attacking those two guys before I got there and he ran off as soon as he saw me” He said recollecting the memories of last night.

Clara leaned over and what she saw made her blood run cold. Standing in the doorway was Roxy. She was completely nude. One glance over her showed dried cum on her thigh and any wolf with a halfway decent sense of smell could tell Lucas had been all over her. "Did you get..." her voice trailed off when she saw Clara and Lucas. A huge grin formed on her face. "Hi Clara," she said. "Did you want to join Lucas and I in some fun?" "Clara it's not what it looks like." Clara backed out of Lucas' arms. He stood still while Roxy leaned against the doorframe, completely shameless.

- I don't know why I felt in my heart that my mother wanted to say more than she did. This wasn't the first time in my life, but since my father died this has gotten worse. - Mom? You didn't even seem too shocked by the location of the guy's house! - It's just that you finally have your breakfast Beck! We're leaving in thirty minutes to fix our hair for tonight. My mother didn't like to answer questions. I was used to it enough by then, so I didn't question anything anymore. I didn't question my father's obsession with wolf artifacts and legends, I didn't question why she wore a protective necklace against something that only existed in my books.

' I tore a strip of paper from my notebook and used it as a bookmark. I read the next few stories, then closed the book. I walked over to sit on the couch. I leaned my head back and I dozed off. I dreamed about Astra, the wolf in Child of Stars. The story didn't describe how she looked, but I envisioned her being a beautiful golden sable with bright blue eyes. In my dream, her colors began to lighten and shift until she was the white silver of my wolf with my bright blue eyes and the three jet black scratch marks across her right eye.

“Why aren't you saying anything? She's enjoying it. See how her legs are trembling. My eyes travelled down to her shapely long legs. They would look so good, wrapped around our waist. “Stop,” Roxanne said, her voice an unsteady whisper. My eyes met hers, watching her expression. For a split second I thought she had hacked into my mind and listened to me and my wolf. “Stop what?” I asked. She'd look good underneath us but really perfect atop. I took in ragged breaths while Roxanne watched me with big and innocent eyes. Those eyes that I wanted to gaze into after I sink my canines into her spot and mark her.

Her eyes alight upon scattered sketches strewn across the surface, drawing her in with an irresistible pull. Picking up one of the sketches, she is met with the striking image of a wolf, its form captured in intricate detail. As her gaze flits to another sketch, a closer view of the wolf reveals its menacing features—fangs bared and saliva dripping, an embodiment of primal ferocity. A series of similar sketches follow, each portraying the majestic yet fearsome creatures in different poses. A furrow creases Rose's brow in puzzlement as she contemplates the artist's apparent fixation on these lupine subjects.

Lucien permitted walking over to stand by her side, " Of course, these are all mine. What would you like to draw?" Isabella raised an eyebrow mysteriously. Winking at him, she mumbled glancing around, " A Big Bad Wolf." An hour later... Lucien dropped the book from his hand. Sitting up from his chair, he questioned moving on her side, " Let me see! What did you draw exactly?" His mouth hang open in disbelief when he saw her painting. She had actually tried to draw his wolf form. Though it wasn't perfect more likely a dog rather than wolf, she managed to highlight his every feature perfectly. But the title brought frown on his forehead. Big Bad Wolf..