Romans & histoires Werewolf Sitting Under Tree

“I didn’t notice it until after I met you. I think you stirred what had been hidden all that time.” “That would make sense,” Alex reasons. “I was your first werewolf, huh?” I smile. “I guess that’s what we should talk about.” “Look, up there.” He points to some fallen trees, and we sit on their trunks. Other plant life has slowly taken them over. Moss softens the edges of their bark and small critters have taken refuge among their hollows. I can hear a squirrel or something inside squeaking until it senses we’re there, then it goes silent.

Though the thought was amusing, imagining them all losing their minds about a werewolf running loose in their midst. Yet I doubted that kind of reaction would last long here. If there was any town likely to band together to run off a beast in their midst, then judging by their attitude towards outsiders, it would be this one. I sighed as I eventually ended up back at the same oak tree I'd slept under the night before, sitting down and making myself as warm and comfortable as I could be under its broad branches once more. Sleep came fairly easily, and undisturbed, after the long, productive day, and a good meal.

“We’re not just tracking shadows; we’re following the trail of those who mean us harm.” After hours of cautious progress, the team reached the outskirts of the enemy encampment. Concealed behind a copse of gnarled trees, they observed a scene that confirmed their worst suspicions. In a clearing illuminated only by the ghostly light of the moon, a contingent of exiled werewolves had gathered. Their postures were militaristic, their movements precise and rehearsed. At the center, the scarred leader stood elevated on a fallen stone slab, addressing his followers with fervor.

It was at the very top. I know it will sound stupid. But believe it or not. Some werewolves find it hard to climb a tree, especially on their wolf form. I can already tell judging from the way he looked hesitant right now that he's one of those werewolves who can't climb a tree. I laughed at the cute thought. He's powerful, yes. He's strong, yes. But a tree can me all of his credentials questionable. "Fine. Just step back a bit, so you won't be hurt once I go down."

Without thinking further, she jumped to the highest level and settled herself at the big branch on top of the tree. The six werewolves down the tree growled in anger. Queen Asalea smiled. This tree is her savior. However, not unless these six werewolves would go away, she cannot go down from this tree. Minding that it’s almost dark, she was able to relax. These werewolves would go once the night is deep already.

She finally reached a clearing and sat down under a tall oak tree, trying to take a moment of respite. She thought her presence might have scared off the birds perched on the branches, but they continued to chirp and sing, seemingly undisturbed by the werewolf below them. The curious birds even cocked their heads, peering down at Celeste with interest as if they were trying to decipher her every move. Their high-pitched voices grated on her already frayed nerves. She bared her teeth in a futile attempt to scare them away. But that was obviously not very impressive to them. The birds remained unfazed and continued their chorus. Soon enough, a few more birds had joined the party and observed t

There he is. Sitting under an old oak tree, next to two beautiful, creaky rocking chairs like this is some kind of werewolf retirement brochure. He’s in one, glaring at the horizon like it owes him money. I take the empty one beside him and ease into it, letting the chair squeak under my weight. “What do you want?” he mutters without looking up. Charming. “You’re being kind of harsh, considering you don’t know the full story.” He snorts. “The full story? What do you know about any of this?”

As soon as he saw the man, he let out a curse, kicking my chair away from the glass wall, " Fuck!!" I was pushed away in my chair in the opposite direction. All I could hear was the shattering of glass. The man under the tree shifted into a big black werewolf, breaking through the glass walls. Alessio shifted as well, taking on his honey-colored werewolf form. He was fighting against the black wolf amidst the broken glass.

Once again, I curse myself for wearing a dress and a thong underneath in the hopes of meeting my mate tonight. As usual, nothing in my life goes always as planned. I grunted, looking down the ground when I see the rogue wolf sitting in front of the tree, staring up at the fabric between my legs. His eyes darkened with lust and somehow, his face looked as if he's changed his mind about something. I pull myself up and laid face-down on the large tree branch, glaring daggers at the big pervert down below. My body is drenched in sweat, and my feet hurt after running a marathon in the middle of the night.

He turned again, heading straight for the trees. We both let our beast have more control now. My wolf salivated at the scent of those moose all she wanted was the neck of a moose. My wolf walked alongside him, the trees were thickening around us. We walked through the trees some more and stopped when we heard them. I didn't wait for Jerry, my beast quickly got on her belly and quietly crawled until we were hiding beneath a low limb of a tree. The moose was fat.