Werewolf Sitting By Tree Novels & Stories

Nature is a werewolf’s best friend, so I was calm whenever I was in the wilderness. The scent of the leaves, the singing of crickets, and the breath of fresh air. There was nothing I could ask for. Suddenly, the rain fell. The wind made the branches dance as it also scattered the fragrance of the flowers and the leaves. I ran to the nearest tree and took shelter when suddenly I heard a voice. “You really like wandering, aren’t you?” I looked around and saw a man sitting at the top of a tall tree. “Troy?” I exclaimed. “W- what are you doing here? I just saw you outside the castle.”

It’s several minutes before the witch’s scent catches our nose from above. My wolf trots toward the tree line and lifts his muzzle. She’s up in an oak, perched on a limb, legs dangling, watching. Her eyes are pitch black again. Considering. My wolf lowers himself to sit, his every muscle taut, the fur along his spine prickled. Snowflakes land on his wet black nose. He sneezes.

I carefully go down a branch, to stay still out of the wolves’ reach but to get closer to them. The barking and scratching instantly stops. I look down to see the wolves watching me. I go down another branch and they take a step away from the tree. What? That’s weird. I go down another few branches so that I’m almost within their reach, but have an option to avoid them if they try anything. The wolves are a few yards away from the tree, sitting on their rumps, watching me curiously. What the hell? How can wolf’s eyes show so much? I take a look at the black wolf, as I suspect he’s the “leader” because he’s the biggest. He’s simply watching me, like others, but his posture is a bit more tense

The sun is bright today, but with the thick canopy overhead, only minimal light penetrates down to the ground. I quickly strip out of my clothes, hanging them on a nearby branch before shifting into my wolf form. Cautiously, I make my way around the trees, trying to pinpoint the location of the scent. A little distance away, right in the center of the cove, I can see that the underbrush has been trampled upon. I sniff at the spot, and once again, I’m uneasy about how familiar the scent seems. The scent is that of a Werewolf; I am certain of it.

He asked while his eyes searched the area like he was looking for some possible dangers. “ My head doesn't really feel well today. I think I'll just sit down here and rest while you take the run.” My eyes search for a possible place to sit down. Big tree roots came to vision. I went over to and dusted one of the roots and sat down. Expecting him to shift into his wolf form and take his run, he didn't do that as he came to sit on the opposite root. We sat quietly for a moment. Only the sounds of birds, crickets and wind howling in the night sky could be heard around us.

The moon hung high in the sky, its pale light filtering through the trees and casting long shadows over the forest floor. A group of five men sat around a campfire, the warmth of the flames pushing back the evening chill. Laughter filled the air as they joked, drank, and tore into chunks of fried meat. The night was quiet and peaceful, with only the crackling of the fire and the occasional rustle of leaves. One of the men, a tall werewolf with sharp senses, suddenly tensed. His laughter died on his lips as he glanced into the dark woods surrounding them. “Someone’s here,” he muttered, his eyes narrowing as he tried to focus on the sounds of approaching footsteps.

After he shrugged on his shorts, we made our presence known. There were six buff, tall guys surrounding the tree; an excessive amount of men for a single she-wolf. Then my eyes lifted to the tree where I could see a silhouette of a girl. The sun that shone down, pass the branches and thick leaves, was not only hot but blinding as well. Sometimes being a werewolf living in tropical climates wasn't a good thing. "State your full name and reason for trespassing on claimed territory rouge," Silas' alpha voice boomed, also looking at the girl in the tree but probably not seeing much. She was pretty high up there.

40 | W A R O P E N I N G A T T A C K ; D A M I E N ' S R A M P A G E *** Damien was standing in front of a large tree that soared into the sky. The diameter of the tree trunk was very wide, and the roots that came up to the ground were as large as the cut trunks of the trees around it. This big tree is the boundary between the vampire race and the werewolf race.

These questions swirled in his mind, but he maintained his focus, determined to fulfil his duty as a werewolf protector. Suddenly, Mark halted, his body tensing. Ryder swiftly took cover behind a large tree, peering through the branches to see what had caught Mark's attention. In the clearing ahead, a pair of yellow eyes glowed in the darkness, revealing the presence of a formidable figure. The rogue wolf stood tall and muscular, its fur a dark shade of gray, bristling with aggression. It growled, revealing its massive teeth, while flexing its powerful claws. Ryder could sense the wild energy emanating from the creature and braced himself for the impending confrontation.

Most of the pack is asleep as I walk towards a park with beautiful trees. I passed some wolves on patrol, they whistled at me to get my attention, and I nodded in response. Gratefully, they didn't bother me. I went underneath one of the trees and sat down on a bench. "Time to have a talk," I said out loud.