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Wendigo Tango

You are such a dumbass Anon. "Go hike some of the Appalachian trail!" you thought "Do it solo to prove to everyone how tough you are!" you thought, "Do it in November because fuck mosquitos!" you thought, "Don't take an emergency locator beacon because they're for pussies!" you so very foolishly thought! And yet here you are, in the middle of some godforsaken forest, darkness closing in around you, slowly freezing to death, and you don't have even the slightest inkling as to where you are, where the trail is, or where you left the bowling ball sized testicles that gave you the confidence to start this cursed journey.

You stare at your map as if the arcane symbols and many pretty colors that litter it may give you some divine insight as to where you should go. You think you're still in Tennessee, or maybe not, you have been aimlessly wandering the woods for the last two days after all. Displeased that the map gods have not seen fit to bestow upon you the gift of knowing where the hell you are, you turn up the brightness on your headlamp to survey your immediate surroundings. Trees all around you, your light just barely managing to illuminate the tops of their trunks. The shadows from their bare branches dance around as you move your head, causing constant movement in your peripheral vision. Thankfully much of the foliage has died so the ground is just dirt, leaves, and dead wood. You can't see the horizon due your blocked view, but if you could you know it would be that orange blue haze that happens just before total darkness sets in. And you know that when it gets dark it’s going to get REAL dark; despite the waxing moon for the past couple nights the entire sky is covered in an impenetrable layer of thick clouds, the Russians could nuke the moon and you doubt you would know it. Goddamnit Anon why the hell did you have to go off the trail to take that piss break?!

Okay, okay, let's calm down with a quick rundown of what supplies you still have. One sleeping bag, one tent, food down to about two meals worth, enough water to last you the next 12 hours, your trusty multitool, spare change of socks and underwear, some band aids, map, compass, headlamp, the finest Casio watch 20 dollars on amazon could buy, a wallet that’s only good for identifying you when they inevitably find your body, phone whose cell service is long since gone, a compact 9mm handgun for when you hear banjo music, and a few other miscellaneous necessities. Looking down you still have your thankfully dry hiking pants, boots, and jacket plus a few inner layers. Looking down you also realize that all your clothes are in earth tones, not exactly helpful for when (if) a rescue team comes looking for you.

Alright, first things first, you need to find a place to camp for the night so you can stop your unwanted transformation into a meat popsicle. The ground around you simply won't do, not nearly enough space to set up a tent due to the trees and what isn’t blocked is uneven or rocky. So, you press on in search of a new place to call home like some kind of incredibly pathetic old timey settler. As you move forward you see nothing but more of the same brown and gray. By now the sun's fully down and the night comes alive with the mystical sounds of the forest. And by mystical sounds you mean the crunch of your boots hitting the ground and what you're pretty sure are what are the mating calls of local wolves. Or even worse, werewolves. As you trudge through the forest you can’t help but recall the many spooky stories you’ve read online about all manner of cryptids spooking or killing people in situations just like yours. I mean sure most of them were obvious fakes but what if just one of them was true? You take your pistol out of its holster just in case you encounter something that most definitely doesn't exist, you know, expect the unexpected and all that.

Good lord you knew it was going to be dark, but this is ridiculous, you literally can't see anything that isn't touched by your headlamp. Everything beyond what it can reach is kept in a featureless blackness, and those damn shadows are getting to you. This has to be the 4th time you've violently turned your head to see something in the edges of your vision only for it to immediately disappear when you look at it directly. Maybe there's a wolf ghosting you, or maybe it's a pissed off forest spirit, or maybe a crazed mountain man, or a ravenous fanged werewolf, or a skeleton archer, or maybe it's your 6th grade math teacher come to berate you for failing another test. You hope it's a wolf, they'll probably kill you quick right? You soldier on despite the spooky skeletons dancing in your mind. You climb over a fallen tree then you see them. Two big reflective eyes staring right at you off in the distance, close enough for the light of your headlamp to give them a dull yellow glow but too far away to see what they belong too. Oh god. Oh fuck. You freeze in place for what feels like an eternity, your brain deciding between fight and flight. Your brain picks flight, but your brain also says you’ll need to turn your back to whatever gruesome beast is staring at you to get over the fallen tree behind you. So you instead try to stand your ground.

First you try yelling at it, “Fuck off! Go away! I’m not afraid of you asshole! I-I don’t even taste good!”. You wave your gun at it for extra emphasis. No effect. Shit. It’s still just staring at you, and you’re still impotently staring at it. Wait a minute, you’ve seen this scenario before. You swing your head to your left and right expecting to see a couple clever girls about to tear into your flanks. Thankfully there’s nothing there. You swing your eyes back to where the beast was staring at you and all you see is an empty darkness, phew, close call, guess you scared it off after all. You’re about to start moving again then you hear a rustle in a nearby bush, you raise your gu- OH GOD IT’S COMING RIGHT FOR YOU FUCK FUCK FUCK you let off a string of wild shots into the bush hoping to pacify whatever grotesque monster was about to tear into your supple, sweet, delicious man flesh. You hear a scream after you fire your last shot! You think you hit it! It sounded kind of feminine for a forest monster though.

You stand there for a few moments staring at the bush, not daring to get any closer in case the beast still wasn’t dead. You hear movement, then you see the mystery animal waddle away from the bush in a lackadaisical manner. The bigfoot in the bush was, in fact, just a wild beaver. You lower your weapon and let out a relieved sigh as it retreats beyond the light of your headlamp. Well damn, you just got scared shitless over a harmless little herbivore didn’t you? At least on the bright side you didn’t hit it, so no guilt there. Then you remember that scream, do beavers scream? Rabbits do, right? Maybe that’s what you heard. I mean it probably wasn’t you screaming, probably. Regardless, you need to get a move on before it gets any colder out here. But still, there’s a not insignificant amount of curiosity about what sort of animal was staring at you racking your brain right now. You decide to at least check out where it was, maybe you’ll get lucky and see some identifiable tracks. Slowly you make your way to where you think those eyes were and take a good look at the ground.

The first thing you notice is the smell. It smells kind of…. musky? Wet? Kind of like a dog who’s gone far too long without a bath. Not a surprise, you doubt feral man-eating forest dwelling beasts take showers very often. Looking at the ground you see a small puddle of a clear liquid. You take your right hand and stick a couple fingers in it to make sure it isn’t actually just a puddle of water, the substance sticks to your digits as you pull them out, gross, you wipe it off on your pants. Hmmm, must have been saliva dripping from its snarling maw as it stared at you, hungry in anticipation of man meat no doubt. You notice something else close to the saliva, several pawprints. They’re not well defined, and you’re not exactly trained in identifying tracks, but the size of the paw pads and imprints from several sizable claws tells you whatever left this was not to be fucked around with. You take a few pictures of the prints with your phone for posterity and once again begin your trek to a good camping spot.

It seems that lady luck has looked upon you fondly, about damn time. Before you is a small clearing that’s just perfect for a campsite. You quickly get to work pitching your tent, heh, and getting a quick campfire made. A short jaunt back into the woods has yielded enough wood to get a good fire going for at least a couple hours, looks like hot meals are back on the menu. You sit near the fire and warm your body up. When your hands have finally stopped shaking you get to work making a very late dinner. You add some water to a freeze-dried pouch of chicken and dumplings, eating it with a side of toasted bread and summer sausage. God it feels good to not be totally in the shit right now. You have a full belly, a warm body, and nothing but a nice long sleep in front of you. I mean you’re still lost in the middle of nowhere, but hey isn’t everybody metaphorically in the same situation as you? But then again, they probably aren’t going to die because of it. As the fire begins to die down you put it out and retreat inside the tent for the night. Just as you’re about to close the flap you swear you see those same reflective eyes out in the tree line, but as you blink, they disappear. You turn on your watchs illumination, Jesus Christ it’s already 2AM, you’re definitely seeing things, you’ll deal with your phantom threat tomorrow. You cocoon yourself in your sleeping bag and drift off into a heavy slumber.

Compliance is Mandatory

You awaken to the sound of something hitting your tent. From the shadow you can tell someone’s in front of the entrance, and you have a feeling it isn’t a candygram. You crawl on your knees to the flap and slowly open it, wincing as the bright morning sun assaults your eyes. You see two black furry legs right in front of you. Oh god. Oh fu- wait, only two? You slowly pan up to look at the face of a very stern looking bear anthro looking down at you. Her body is covered in shiny black fur and her muzzle is coated in a thinner coat of gold with a wet black nose at the end. An incredibly reflective pair of silver aviators hide her eyes. She’s outfitted in green shorts and a tan short sleeve button up top, must be a park ranger. Two green straps from a rucksack tug into her shoulders.

“Oh thank god you fou-“

“Camping permit please.” A few things caught you off guard here. First was her cutting you off, second was her adorable southern accent, and third was the amount of forcefulness she managed to put behind that adorable southern accent

“….what?”

“Your camping permit sir, anyone camping within the limits of Great Cassy Mountain National Park is required to have a registered camping permit on their person at all times they are exercising the privileges of said permit”. She spoke with an impressive air of authority and only a slight hint of annoyance, no doubt having said this line many times to many malcontents. While you desperately want to explain your situation to her, you decide to get this little formality over with quickly to prevent potentially angering your savior.

“uhh ya sure I have it right here.”

You go back into the tent to retrieve your backpack with the required piece of paper. You thank the heavens that you remembered to get a permit before embarking on your journey, the park was supposed to be one of your first stops after all. After fumbling for far too long with your backpacks zipper you finally retrieve the document. You climb out of your tent to present it to her. Now at your full height you see that the bear is at least half a foot taller than you are, not exactly a surprise considering bear anthros tend to be on the larger side. Not helping things is the wide brimmed ranger hat atop her head making her seem even more imposing. In fact, not only is she taller than you, but she’s built like a goddamn freight train. Her shirt struggles to contain her considerable bust and strong shoulders, the short sleeves completely filled with bone, muscle, and fur. Complementing her shoulders are an even wider set of hips. Her belt depresses into her lower belly, the depth revealing that she has some pudge under her uniform. You know better than to underestimate a bear anthro by thinking their soft body implies a lack of strength though, you’ve seen enough football to know they pack some mean muscles under the layers of plushy fur and adipose.

She snatches the permit from your hand and looks at it pensively, her droopy black lips maintaining a slight frown. Is she checking to make sure it’s authentic? Are counterfeit camping permits even a thing? Is she going to arrest you if it’s not up to snuff? Can park rangers even arrest people? What would happen if you tell her you’re a sovereign citizen? A litany of incredibly disturbing questions races through your mind.

She slowly turns her head from the permit up to you, and stares. This cannot be good.

She inches up until your noses are almost touching. Be brave Anon, be brave. She begins sniffing the air in front of your face, eventually moving down to your neck, your chest, then leans down to your right leg and stays there. Oh god what do you have in your right pocket? Just a multitool right?

She snaps to attention and you see your big dumb face in her shiny shades again.

“Sir, have you smoked marijuana within the past 72 hours?”

Well at least you don’t think you have. You put on your best totally not a liar smile.

“No Ma’am.”

“Good.” She takes a step back and continues inspecting your permit.

Jesus was that a threat? If she thought you were lying she would probably be beating you with a stick right now. After what feels like an eternity she finally hands you back your permit, your own reflection watching the transaction in her shades.

“Sir, are you aware that permit expires in 1 day?” She asks dryly.

“Ye-well no but see I’ve been wandering around the woods alone and lost for the past few days after getting off the trail so I’m really just glad to see another biped right now.”

She stares at you wordlessly for a few seconds before cocking her head to the side. Oh god she’s going to arrest you for being a dumbass, isn’t she?

“Solo hiking? In the winter? Did you at least bring a map?” Her words practically drip with a mixture of disappoint and annoyance

“Ya I know that was a bad idea and I deeply regret it, but I did at lea-“

She cuts you off before you can even finish your sentence.

“Let me see it.”

You crawl back to into your tent to retrieve your map, unfolding it before going back to her. She takes it, and like the permit, studies it intensively.

“Yep, that’s what I thought sir. Unfortunately, a small number of these topographic maps had multiple misprintings that made them practically unusable. I’m afraid I’ll have to confiscate this to dispose of it properly. You’re hardly the first hiker to get lost with one of these.”

She folds the map back up and places it into a breast pocket on her uniform.

“So, can you uhh, lead me back to civilization? Or at least point me in the right direction? I don’t exactly have a whole lot of food left.”

“I’m sorry sir but I have several other campgrounds I need to inspect today and I don’t typically keep spare maps around; do you have a compass?”

“Of course!”

Her serious demeanor suddenly changes into a more welcome neutral one.

“Well if you head directly north about one mile you’ll run into one of the more well-traveled trails, there’s also a rest stop with a landline and drinking fountains nearby, can’t miss it”

“That should be easy enough, thanks for the directions you’re a real life saver rangerrrr...” You catch a quick glance at her nametag.

“…Smith”

“Don’t worry about it hon, just doing my job” Her shiny black lips curl up into a warm smile.

You can’t help but smile back, “Well then I guess I’ll get out of your fur ranger Smith, direct North, right?”

“Just head North, you can’t miss it!” She affirms, then turns away to get to get back to her duties.

As she walks away you can’t get help but get a nice view of her cub bearing hips swaying with every step and a stubby black tail poking out of her pants. Only now that you’re facing her backside do you see her posterior is thiccer than a bowl of instant oatmeal with half the recommended amount of milk, speaking of mil-

Get a fucking grip Anon, she just saved your sad little life and now you repay her by having unprovoked saucy thoughts? Those thoughts can wait for later, after you’ve made it back to your apartment and had a nice long hot shower. Oh, it’s gonna feel good. You mean the shower of course. You restart your fire and open a bag of freeze-dried scrambled eggs and bacon, eating it with the last of your bread and instant coffee. Well that’s it, you’re officially out of food. But you feel more than ready to take on the paltry one mile hike to the trail. You’re so close Anon, just a little further now.

After packing your gear and putting out the fire you bring your compass out and get situated. Looks like Direct North will have you going through some rolling hills, but it’s nothing you can’t handle given the short distance.

You continue North for some time, stomping up and down hill after hill. You’re no expert at landnav, but it’s midday and you’re VERY sure you should have hit that trail by now. Maybe ranger Smith was off in terms of distance? She seemed awfully positive it was North of your old position, so if you just keep going North you’re bound to hit it eventually you think. You can’t wait to get home; the sight of dead trees and leaves is getting tiring.

Alright, it’s 6 in the evening and something is very wrong. You have gone up and down hill after hill after hill and your legs feel like they’re made of rubber. You have seen no sign of any trail, any people, any rest stop, or any sign of civilization at all for that matter. To make matters worse, you used up the last of your water hours ago and it appears the hunger in your belly won’t be going away any time soon. You shiver as another cold gust goes right through your jacket and touches your bones. Fuck it’s getting cold out here. You take your pack off and sit down on a rotting stump to contemplate your situation, rubbing your hands together to get some warmth back into them. Maybe Ranger Smith was just plain wrong? Unlikely, she would know these woods better than anyone. Maybe your compass is broken? Nope, it’s still got fluid and is in fine condition. Maybe you’ve just completely lost it? Bingo, I think we have a winner! No no no now’s not the time for these defeatist thoughts. You might be able to survive a few more days out here if you can find a water source and keep a fire going. Maybe use your gun to try and signal someone? Oh, who are you kidding, you’re done out here man, game over.

A rustle of leaves in the distances interrupts your self-pity session. Could it be your phantom threat finally coming over to finish the job? You pull your pistol out at a low ready, hands shivering, you aren’t going down that easy to some wendigo fuck no matter how bad you feel about yourself. You stand there and wait as the rustling gets closer and closer. Eventually you see glimpses of the noisemaker through the trees, the fading light not making things any easier. It’s…Ranger Smith? Oh thank god. You discretely holster your weapon and begin walking up to her.

She gives a quick wave, “Howdy there Anon. Don’t tell me you got lost again.” Her tone of voice is friendly, with only an undercurrent of annoyance. This is better than your expectations, you thought she would be downright angry you couldn’t follow her simple directions. Hell not even directions, just direction.

“Hey ranger Smith, boy am I glad to see you!”

“I didn’t expect to see you all the way out here, what’s been going on?” She takes off her aviators revealing her hazel colored eyes, there’s still enough light for you to spot the genuine concern in them.

“Well Ranger Smith things have not been going well since this morning, I don’t know if my compass is fucked up or what but I can’t find that trail you talked about earlier, how’d you find me out here anyway?”

“While moving between campsites I picked up some boot prints and I guess curiosity got the better of me, I’m supposed to be the only one out here after all. You still have food left?”

“Not a drop of water or crumb remaining since several hours ago, I thought I was on a death march going North until you showed up haha.” Your laugh comes off more pained than you would have liked.

“Damn, you must be starving. Have one of these.” She reaches into her pants pocket and retrieves a granola bar. You are in fact starving, so you grab the granola bar from her hand. Its flavor? Oats and honey. Not a big surprise. You try to tear one end of the wrapper off, but your shaky hands are only halfway cooperating due to the cold. Your numb fingers barely register that they’re even holding anything at all, and in your attempt to open the bar you end up dropping it. Fuck.

“Jesus Anon you must be half frozen to death.” She closes the distance and embraces you in a hug, the tufts of fur that spill out of her collar tickling your face with much needed warmth. You can’t help but breathe in her scent as she holds you, the smell of pine and a hint of rose fills your nostrils, sweet yet earthy, but there’s something else underneath it as well, a kind of aroma your nose lacks the sensitivity to positively identify. Her paws grip your back in a tight embrace and with her muzzle pressed up against the side of your face you can feel her every heated exhale across the back of your head. You return her affection and wrap your arms around her midsection flattening the fur underneath her shirt. You must admit it’s weird that the woman you just met a few hours ago is embracing you like this, but you can’t argue against free warmth when the temperature keeps dropping. Hell, maybe furry anthros like her are trained to do it to potential frostbite victims or something.

She gently rubs her muzzle against the side of your head, then puts her nose close to your ear.

“Which direction did you say you were going again?” She asks in a quiet voice.

“You told me to go North.”

“Oh anon, I told you to go East” She whispers.

The blood in your veins turns to ice. No, no way, there’s no way you could have made such a mistake, it’s not possible. You KNOW she said North! You back away slightly from her embrace so you can look her in the eyes.

“I’m pretty sure you told me to go North Ranger Smith”, you eke out in the least accusatory tone you can.

She stifles a chuckle before responding, “No anon, I know I said you needed to head East, I’m sure of it”

She pulls you back into the hug, you can feel her claws through your jacket she’s holding you so tight now. While normally you would press her on the issue your immediate survival takes priority, and you have a feeling she wouldn’t admit to any kind of mistake anyway.

“So uh, are we going to head back to a trail then?”

“No.” You expect her to elaborate after her response, but after several seconds of silence you decide to take the initiative.

“If we aren’t going back to a trail then where are we going?”

She remains silent for a few seconds before taking a deep breath and answering, tickling your head with warm breath.

“Well Anon, the bad news is there’s a heavy thunderstorm coming in tonight, but the good news is there’s a remote ranger station not too far from here we can take shelter at. Now do you feel better or do you need me to continue being your personal space heater?”

“I think I can manage.” She grabs your shoulders and gently pulls you off of her, you rapidly become aware of just how cold it is as you leave her warmth.

“Good, now pick up your pack and let’s get a move on before that storm comes in.” There’s that no-nonsense tone of voice again.

You swing your backpack on and begin to follow her to the ranger station, picking up and eating the granola bar along the way to stave your hunger off for a little while longer.

After darkness sets in you see that Ranger Smith has no issue navigating the terrain long after you need to light the dark with your headlamp.

“So, do you bears have really good night vision or something? I couldn’t imagine hiking without a light”

“Hon, I don’t usually brag, but humans wish they had eyes half as good as a bears, or fur for that matter, or claws, or noses, or teeth…” She begins to count the body parts on her fingers

“Oh come on, now you’re just being mean.”

She slows her pace so you can be shoulder to shoulder.

“Do you have any idea how many humans have to get rescued out here? And do you know how that number compares to the number of anthro rescues? It’s got to be at least 5 to 1. Hell, just last week I was in a search party looking for a group of 4 adult humans that missed a trail marker and meandered into Timberson Valley.”

“They all make it out?”

“Yes, minus a couple of toes due to frostbite, which wouldn’t have happened if they had a nice furry winter coat like mine.” She rubs a hand through her furry cheek for effect.

“A winter coat huh, is that why you were so warm back there?”

She bears a sheepish grin. “Yep, haven’t had a chance to switch to my winter uniform since my coat came in so this one’s a little tight” She tugs on her collar with a couple of claws letting more fur spill out.

“All the other rangers must be jealous.”

“Not really, most of the other rangers are anthros. I have a feeling you don’t hike around here very often Anon.”

“This is my first hike in the area actually, though you could probably already tell that from my poor sense of direction.”

“Well I won’t call that assumption incorrect.” She responds coyly.

“I really am sorry for dragging you down Ranger Smith, I know you probably have better things to do than babysit a clueless hiker like me.”

“Oh don’t say that Anon, helping people out is part of the job. If anything you should count yourself lucky.”, she puts a heavy furry arm around your shoulders and looks at you with those bright hazel eyes of hers, “Most clueless hikers don’t have an experienced mama bear like me to show them the way.” That last line sounded……sultry? Is she coming onto you? Or maybe you’re just reading things wrong? You’ve never been good at interpreting advances. Oh god what do you say now?

“Y-yeah well thanks for the help Ranger Smith.” Wow, real smooth Anon.

“Don’t worry about it hon.” The warm tone of her voice tells you she wasn’t disappointed you didn’t reciprocate her feelings, assuming those feelings were there in the first place. She removes her arm from your shoulder and retakes her position a few steps ahead of you.

The two of you continue walking silently for the next couple of hours. While you started off this trip with a renewed sense of vigor at the thought you were once again saved, you must admit fatigue is really starting to get to you. Every step makes your legs burn just a little bit more and every hill and obstacle seems just a little bit harder to get over than the last one. Then the thunderstorm Smith mentioned earlier rears its ugly head. A streak of lightning briefly coats the forest in a fleeting white light and a booming thunderclap sounds off in the distance. You pull your hood up in anticipation of the eventual downpour and you see Smith pull a sizable green poncho out of her rucksack and put it on.

“Hey Anon, we may need to pick up the pace if you want to beat the storm.”

“How much further is it?” You manage between tired gasps.

“Not much further, maybe one more mile”

A small surge of adrenaline courses through your body when she says those words. It just, reminds you too much what she said earlier about that phantom trail due north. Did she intentionally misdirect you back there? Did you just hear her directions wrong? You haven’t been in a great state of mind the past several days, maybe you are just a little off your rocker. But then again maybe your memory isn’t as bad as you think. Why would she tell you to go North? Is she, god forbid, trying to kill you? Lead you out into the forest and wait for you to starve to death so she can steal your wallet and jack your car? No, she has claws and teeth that could rip you apart, then again maybe a natural death would draw less suspicion. Maybe…maybe……….maybe…….

The adrenaline wears off and is instead replaced by, well, nothing. You try to take a few steps forward but your legs only halfway do what you tell them to, and now you feel incredibly lightheaded. You take a knee to try and regain your composure. While you only felt very tired before the adrenaline surge now you feel positively wiped out, every part of you feels like it’s made of lead coated in depleted uranium. You don’t feel any better after a few seconds of kneeling, so you leave your pride at the door and ask for a breather.

“Hey Ranger Smith, do you think we could just like, take 5?” You say in between heavy breaths.

“Well I guess that’s okay, we’re going to get rained on though, you alright? Need a snack hon?” She pulls another granola bar out of her pocket and presents it to you.

“Ya that sounds great.” You stand up too fast. When you reach your full height you can feel the color fade from your vision and the edges close in as all the blood leaves your head. You try to kneel down again but your legs totally give out the second you tell them to bend. You crumple to the ground, vision still fading, a victim of severe overexertion. Your head hits the ground with a dull thud. You hear Smith yelling something to you, but her voice sounds increasingly far away and less distinct. You close your eyes as the last bits of control you had over your body fade away and drift into an involuntary sleep.

Secondhand Drama

You’re standing in the forest again, alone. Wasn’t there someone else here with you before? You remember they were furry, and warm, and kind, but there was something off about them as well. Chewbacca appears from behind a tree and emits a guttural greeting. You point your finger at him, “No I don’t think it was you, ya big furball.” He moves behind the tree and disappears. Now your childhood dog appears from behind another tree and gives a friendly bark. You point your finger again, “No I don’t think it was you either buddy.” The dog retreats behind the same tree it emerged from. Your friend Jimmy, an anthro possum, appears. “Hey Anon.”, “Hey Jim, good to see ya, you never did like hiking though.” He disappears behind yet another tree. You sit in thought for a few seconds. Minutes? Hours? Days? It’s now pitch black out. Your headlamp illuminates the only tree in sight. Your breath mists in front of you. You feel intense fear. Why are you scared? Is it the darkness? The hunger? The thirst? The cold? The fact that you’re going to die tired, afraid, and with no one who cares? You aren’t going to have an open casket funeral Anon; the animals always get to the carcass first. Animal. The person you were with was some kind of anthro, but not like Jimmy. They were bigger, stronger, stockier, furrier. What kind though? A big cat? No. A wolf? No. Maybe a Moose? Also no. A bear? Yes! They were a black bear anthro! And her name it was uhhh SMITH! Yes! It was a black bear anthro named Smith you were with! And she was a park ranger! You stare at the tree expecting her to appear from behind it at any moment, yet nothing happens.

You stand up and take your pistol out of its holster. You aren’t sure why, but you know you need to look behind the tree to get to Smith. You look to your left and right, the flat forest floor remains but everything beyond your headlamp is a black void. It’s just you and the tree. You take cautious steps forward, your fear increasing with every movement. You’re only a couple feet away from the tree now, you aim your pistol out in front of you, take a deep breath, and rapidly move to look at what’s behind it.

There’s nothing there. The realization elevates your fear to primal levels. Your heart races, your hands sweat, your breaths are rapid and shallow, a deep sinking feeling in your chest threatens to pull you down to the ground. But a paw slamming into your spine does that for you. You hit the ground hard then roll onto your back. In front of you is a feral black bear at least twice the size it should be. You raise your pistol to fire but the trigger is so heavy it won’t move. The bear begins walking towards you now, maw dripping with saliva, its cold black eyes filled with hunger. You desperately push with your feet to try and get away from the bear, struggling for every millimeter. Once again you aim your pistol at the beast and this time it fires. No effect. You fire again. No effect. You aim right between its eyes and fire. No effect. You aim your pistol again only to see the slide locked back, out of ammo. A phantom force pulls the gun from your hands and throws it into the surrounding void. You can’t move, or scream, or even think anymore, just observe in fear. The bear continues its march towards you. Its head reaches your legs, then your chest, then your neck, and now its head is right above your own as it straddles you, paws on either side of your skull. Its saliva dribbles onto your face as it comes nose to nose with you, then it opens its toothy maw.

“Oh Anon, I told you to go East.”.

You wake up filled with an intense fear, thankfully it passes quickly. Guess you had a nightmare.

You smell waffles. Damn you love waffles, all crispy on the outside yet fluffy on the inside and shit. You open your eyes and see a gray steel mesh above you. Bunk, you’re in the bottom half of a bunkbed. A small room full of bunkbeds to be exact, about 6 of them or so, all with thin mattresses and simple covers. You pull your own covers off and sit up on the edge of the bed. Why are you here again? You were hiking with Smith, there was a storm, you passed out, and now you’re here? You guess this is the ranger station she talked about earlier. Well at least that means she wasn’t trying to lead you out into the forest and kill you. You look down at your clothes. They aren’t yours. You’re wearing an oversized set of striped blue and white pajamas. Someone dressed you while you were passed out? You’ll deal with the implications of that later. You roll up your sleeves and pants legs so they feel somewhat correctly sized and stand up. Wait, why does your butt feel naked? Ah fuck these aren’t ripped are they? You twist your torso to look at the pants. There’s a hole there, but it looks like it was intentionally built into the pajama bottoms for a tail. Well she did say most of the forest rangers are anthros. Mercifully there are also some buttons around the edges to close the hole up, you don’t want to unintentionally moon whoever else is here, first impressions are important after all.

Looking around the room you also see a number of photos covering one of the walls and your curiosity gets the better of you. They all show large groups of forest rangers. Unsurprisingly, most are anthros. You see foxes, bears, coyotes, wolves, squirrels, deer, possums, beavers, mice, and several other more exotic species you can’t even identify. Along the bottom of each frame is the same text, “Great Cassy Mountain National Park Ranger Group”. Below the text is the exact date the photo was taken; most seem to be in July. Hey, you wonder if you can find Smith in here. You scan the wall searching for a very specific black bear and sure enough you find her in several photos. More than you expected in fact. You look at the first one she was in. She looks thinner, a little shorter, and while you’ve never been good at estimating the ages of anthros she looks real damn young. You compare the date in her first photo with the current year. Damn, if she was around twenty back then she must be in her mid to upper 30s by now, much older than you thought. All that hiking and fresh air must be good for the body.

You hear noises beyond the only door in the room. Conversations, laughing, the clinking of forks and plates. You suddenly become aware of just how hungry you are, your last full meal was 24 hours ago and you’ve long since burned those calories off. You slowly walk up to the door and turn the doorknob.

The first thing you see as the door opens are 2 anthros sitting on opposite sides of a large wooden table full of food, the most notable being stacks of those tasty little waffle sons of bitches. On the opposite side of the room is a mini kitchen with a middle-aged fox cooking something on a frying pan. The two anthros sitting at the table must have heard you open the door since they turn their heads to stare at you. You recognize one as Ranger smith, but the other is a spindly older male coyote. All three anthros are in their park ranger uniforms.

“He lives! Why don’t you come over here and have a seat?” Says the coyote. He pats the seat next to him.

You sit at the table.

“So, Smith here tells me you’ve had quite an experience the last 24 hours. She’s been telling me tales of heroic rescues from packs of ravenous werewolves, daring escapes from cannibal savages,” he begins talking with his hands, as if seeing the events happening in his mind, “incredible acts of survival in polar conditions, attacks from flocks of man eating geese, sneak attacks from colonies of killer ham-“

Smith cuts him off before he can continue his act any further.

“Shush Henderson, he doesn’t need to hear your particular brand of sarcastic ass, and I would really appreciate it if you would take his situation a little more seriously.” She sounds genuinely aggravated; you guess this probably isn’t the first time she’s barked at him like this.

“Well alright, it wasn’t my intention to seem dismissive, just trying to improve his mood is all, seriously though son how do you feel? Any lightheadedness? Disorientation? Sense of impending doom?” Smith glares at him.

“No, I actually feel pretty okay right now, just a little sore, and hungry.” You eye the stacks of waffles sitting on a nearby plate. But there’s more than just that, there’s strips of savory bacon, sausage links, a bowl of scrambled eggs, fluffy biscuits dripping with honey, a variety of muffins, oh my god, they even have 3 different types of flavored syrup on the table. So, this is where all the forest service budget goes.

Smith pipes up before you have a chance to gorge yourself, “I’ll make you a plate hon, what do you want?” You list virtually everything on the table and salivate as she gives you generous portions. She hands you the plate and you begin to dig in.

Henderson turns his head to the fox in the kitchen, “Mabel, my most Beloved vixen of the forest, how long must it take for a man to get his hash browns?”

She responds, “Maybe if you learned how to cook you could make them yourself and understand the many tribulations your poor elderly wife has to go through to feed her mentally handicapped husband.”

“Honey, you aren’t that old, I’m only SEMI retarded, and that doesn’t answer my question.”

“5 more minutes! And no more complaining about the wait or I’m going to make yours extra extra extra crispy” She points her spatula at him for emphasis.

“Oh, is this because of what happened in 87? How was I supposed to know she was your twin sister Mabel?”

“Mister Henderson!”

As Henderson and Mabel continue their little conversation Smith lets out a long sigh, apparently getting some secondhand annoyance from Mabel. She takes a sip of coffee before turning her attention to you.

“So Anon, I’ll be helping you get back to civilization today.”

“Sounds good to me; I’ll need my gear back though.”

“Don’t worry it’s all in the supply room, it started raining just after you passed out so it may still be a little damp.”

“And my clothes.”

“They’re in the dryer right now, you were soaking wet and nearly hypothermic when we got here so I had to get you in dry clothes, before you, you know.”

“Died?”

“Yeah.” She says softly.

“Then you must be the one who found me these wonderful pajamas.” You stick your arms out to emphasize just how baggy the top is.

She chuckles at the sight, “Well we don’t exactly stock a lot of human specific clothing around here so I gave you a pair of my old pajamas I had laying around. Just leave them in the laundry room after you change.”

You’re in a good mood Anon, why not try out that sense of humor of yours?

“Well I guess that explains why they smell like honeycombs and picnic baskets.”

If stares could kill you would be dead several times over. Your little joke clearly didn’t have the intended effect.

“It’s just a joke Smith.”

There’s a flash of anger on her face before she composes herself, “That’s still Ranger Smith to you Anon, and just because I puff out a little in the winter doesn’t give you the right to joke about it.”. She belts out her words with a contained fury, yet she makes sure not to raise her voice enough to distract Henderson or Mabel from their ongoing conversation. She drops her fork and stares at her plate, lost in thought.

Okay, hold up. She puffs up in the winter? What the hell does that mean? Something about weight you guess, and if you just joked that her clothes smelled like food…anon you idiot she must think that you just called her fat! And the two food items you chose were honeycombs and picnic baskets you cock gobbling retard. Perpetuating the stereotype. Fuck.

You now feel an intense sense of guilt over unintentionally insulting the woman who selflessly carried your unconscious body through a raging storm to save you last night. Okay, calm down, just do what feels right and apologize to her.

“Ranger Smith, I would like to apologize, my stupid joke it just, came out wrong. I didn’t mean to imply anything negative about you. I’m sorry, and if there’s anything I can do to make it up let me know. Seriously you have my eternal gratitude after saving my butt last night.”

She continues staring at her plate for a bit while choosing her next words.

“Apology accepted Anon.” Before you can respond she throws her fork forward impaling the last piece of bacon on your plate and brings it above hers. “On the condition that that’s the last little joke of yours like that I have to hear.”

“Deal.”

“Good.” She strips the bacon off her fork with a claw and it lands on her plate. Stealing your food then not eating it. Power move.

Mabel comes over with a plate of piping hot hash browns.

“Hello my dears, they’re ready!”

Henderson tries to take one from the plate but his hand is smacked away by Mabel. She aims the plate towards Smith.

“Hash browns Miss Smith?”

“No thanks Mrs. Henderson, I’m afraid the rest of your wonderful cooking already did me in”

Now she aims the plate towards you.

“Any for our guest?”

You lost your appetite after your altercation with Smith.

“No thanks Mrs. Henderson.”

“Well, all the more for me and my husband then.”

She sits down next to Smith.

The bear pipes up, “Well I need to get my pack ready for the trip, Anon I’ll see you outside when you’re ready.”, she carries her dishes to the kitchen then moves into what you guess is the supply room.

“You know Anon,” Henderson says between mouthfuls of hash browns, “she was awfully protective of you when she carried you in here last night, wouldn’t even let me or Mabel tend to you while you were resting. She accidently knock you out or something? Don’t worry, I can keep a secret.” He gives you a wink.

An incredulous eye roll from Mabel tells you he most definitely can’t keep a secret.

“I don’t know why she would be that way, I passed out from exhaustion just before we made it to the station so maybe she just wanted to make sure I wasn’t disturbed while I slept or something.”

He begins nodding in agreement, “Ya, ya, maybe that’s why, or maybe she fina-”

Mabel smacks him on the shoulder, “Don’t be spreading rumors around Mister Henderson.”

He stares at his food, “A little social speculation never hurt anyone”, he says to no one in particular.

“Well Mr. and Mrs. Henderson, it’s been a fine morning with you all but I ought to get ready for my trip back to the trail today.”

Mabel perks up, “Oh don’t let us hold you up dear, and be sure to tell Ms. Smith I apologize on behalf of my dear husband for anything he may or may not have done to annoy her.” Mr. Henderson just looks at her and gives a tired smile.

“I’ll be sure to do that.” You stand up and look around spotting a door helpfully labeled “Laundry Room”. Time to get your clothes back.

Well it all seems to be here, nice and clean and with a pleasant floral scent no less. You take off your pajamas and begin to put your own clothes on. Yet when you look at your boxers you swear they were the spares you kept in your backpack. Maybe she washed the spares in addition to the ones you were wearing? You inspect the dryer expecting to see another pair of boxers in some crevice, but nope, nothing there. Odd. In fact, the only set of socks here also seem to be your spares. Very odd. Is this even worth bringing up with Smith though? Probably not, so what if she misplaced some of your clothes, no big deal. After you’re fully dressed you fold up the pajamas and leave them on a table in the room.

Now to get your gear back. When you enter the dimly lit supply room Smith is still in there, sitting on a wooden supply chest and staring blankly at the ground in front of her. You close the door behind you. She doesn’t even seem to acknowledge your entrance, so you decide to break the ice.

“So, I uhh, left your pajamas in the laundry room.”

“Thanks.” She replies flatly.

“I trust my stuff is in here somewhere.”

“It’s in the corner over there.” You look at the corner she points to and recognize your backpack among a few other items. You only manage a couple steps towards it until she speaks again.

“Anon I need to talk to you about something.” She swivels her head to look at you.

“Well Anon, you apologized to me earlier and I appreciate that, now I suppose it’s time I apologize back. I know you didn’t mean anything by that joke and I’m sorry for snapping at you like that, I suppose you deserve an explanation. It’s just that,” she lets out a long sigh, “I’m a black bear anthro Anon, and like pretty much all of the bears we tend to gain a few extra pounds in addition to our winter coats when the colder months roll around. I wasn’t joking when I said I puff out in the winter, maybe even a little more than some other black bears I know. Now the weight and fur gains are temporary, always are, and I don’t even mind it when someone mentions my coat, hell I’m proud of it, but when anyone mentions anything even remotely related to the weight gains I get insecure about it. Makes me feel, I don’t know, heavy, like a burden.”

You take a few moments to process what she just said, “Thanks for telling me that Ranger Smith, I had no idea it was such a sensitive subject for you. As you can probably tell I don’t know any other bear anthros so this is all new information to me.”

She looks at you with relieved eyes, “You can just call me Smith hon, it felt good to get that out.” She switches to a serious tone of voice, “And don’t forget the one condition of your apology.” She points a curved claw at you to emphasize her point.

“Absolutely no more of my stupid jokes, got it.”

“Good, because the penalty for breaking that promise may not be one you can bare.” She looks at you with a barely concealed grin. No way, did she just? She continues, “Get it, bear?”.

Smith was the last one you expect to make a bear pun at a time like this, which just makes it twice as hilarious.

You both laugh as the tension in the room evaporates.

“Well Anon, I’m glad we could have a heart to heart like this,” she stands up and pats your shoulder with a furry paw, “meet me outside when you have your things together.” She moves towards the door, but just after she opens it there’s one last thing you need to say to her.

“Hey Smith, I just wanted to let you know that, I think you’re fine the way you are, winter puff and all.”

She turns her head to you.

“Thanks Anon.” She gives a smile then exits the room.

Now to get yourself ready for the hike. You see your backpack, boots, a few bottles of water, and several dehydrated meals in a neat pile in the corner of the room. Laying on top of the pile is your handgun in its holster. Interesting. You remove the pistol from the holster and inspect it, nothing in the chamber and the magazine is missing. You kept a spare mag in your backpack but after a thorough search it seems to be missing as well. Very interesting. All your ammo was in those two mags. Okay, so Smith clearly found out you were armed and removed your ammo, yet she left you your gun. But why? It’s not illegal to carry in a national park, probably, I mean you never read the fine print but who the hell is getting strip searched by park rangers out in the middle of nowhere? Aside from you of course. Is it some safety thing? Is she secretly still mad at you? Is she selling your ammo? Those hollow points are pretty expensive you know. Oh hell, you don’t want to start a potential argument with her when you two just made up so soon. She can do whatever she wants with your mags. Besides, who’s going to attack a mean mama bear and her useless human sidekick while you’re out there anyway? Nothing right? Right?

All kitted out you move outside to see Smith. A blast of frigid air hits you as soon as you exit the building. She’s placed her rucksack on the ground and you do the same, might as well be in comfort while you have a pre-journey chat.

“Oh yeah, Mabel wanted to let you know that she apologizes for her husband.”

“Don’t worry about them hon, Hendersons been getting on my nerves ever since I’ve been a ranger, I’ve gotten used to it. He can just be a little abrasive sometimes.”

“I guess they’ve been park rangers for a long time huh?”

“Some of the oldest here, they’re so close to retirement pretty much all they do is hang out at the stations and bicker or gossip.”

“Can’t say I blame them, sounds fairly comfy.”

“I wouldn’t mind if they were just a little quieter”

You just now notice a change in her attire.

“Whoa, what happened to your shorts?”

“Getting a bit too cold for shorts Anon, I’m in winter clothing mode now.”

“Winter clothing for you is just the summer uniform but with green hiking pants?”

“That and a properly fitting shirt, a winter coat can’t help me through everything you know.” If her shirt was any less tight fitting than before you couldn’t notice it.

“Well color me surprised.”

“I need to talk to you about the trip.”

She moves in front of you and grabs you by the shoulders, staring you right in the eyes.

As if giving orders to a group of soldiers she spoke with a severe seriousness and candor, “Listen to me Anon, temps have dropped again so even though we’ll be hiking during the day it’s going to be absolutely freezing outside in case you couldn’t already tell. That means no sight-seeing, no unnecessary stops, and no solo excursions. In addition, your camping permit expired this morning so you WILL be sticking with me for the entirety of this trip or so help me god.”

“Don’t ride solo and the photo opportunities can wait, got it.”

Yet now her tone shifted, she was practically pleading with you as she spoke “And another thing Anon, please, I don’t want you taking any unnecessary risks out there, I do not want anything else to happen to you while I’m around, you’re just, too damn delicate.” her sharp change in demeanor laid bare a deep worry. She stared at you with imploring hazel eyes.

Delicate? All the words in the English language and delicate is the one she chose to describe you. At first you’re offended. Me? The big manly man who scared away a wendigo with nothing more than some strongly worded language is delicate? Hah! How dare she demean you by saying you’re deli-wait. She wasn’t trying to demean you. She’s trying to protect you. You idiot. Compared to her you really are delicate, no fur, claws, etc. She clearly cares about you too much to see you pull some dumb stunt and end up dead. In fact, she must care about you a whole lot to say something like that after the honeycombs and picnic baskets situation. And truth be told, you like her. You know behind her stern park ranger exterior she can be kind, and tender, and caring. Sure she may have given you dubious directions yesterday but it only happened one time! You think back to when you thought she was trying to flirt with you and your awkward response. Time to correct that blunder.

You try to sound as seductive as possible. “But Smith,” you place a hand under her chin, stroking the side of her muzzle with your thumb, “as long as I have an experienced mama bear like you to show me the way I know I’m gonna make it.” A certain quote about poetry and rhymes from some bearded guy enters your thoughts.

Oh god, there’s another warm smile of hers. You reflexively respond with a wide grin of your own. After a few moments of staring into each others eyes she wraps her furry arms around you and here comes the mother of all bear hugs. You’re not sure what’s going to break first, your ribs being squeezed by her powerful arms or the back of your jacket that’s dangerously close to being penetrated by her claws. Thankfully you manage to squeak out a “too tight” before you asphyxiate and she lessens her grip on you. Now in control of your arms, you wrap them around her warm back and pull yourself closer to her. She aggressively rubs her muzzle against the side of your head, her flaccid lips dragging along the side of your skull allowing some of her saliva to wet your hair. You do your best to try and keep your head in the same position to provide a good backboard for her nuzzling, but it’s not an easy fight with her powerful neck and tenacity. When you detect her slowing down you decide to do some nuzzling of your own and plunge your head down by her collar, gently rubbing into her lower neck to breathe in that familiar piney scent. She removes a clawed hand from your back and places it on the rear of your head, not in a forceful or even intentional manner, she just thinks it feels right. The two of you remain in that position for some time, her breath warming your neck as she looks down at you.

Eventually she removes her arms from you, and you, taking the hint, take a step back. She hunches down and leans forward so her lips are less than an inch away from your own and begins restating her commands.

“No sightseeing.”

She gives you a peck on the lips.

“No unnecessary stops.”

And another.

“No solo excursions.”

And another!

“Stay with me.”

Another!

She emphasizes every syllable of these next ones

“Absolutely no unnecessary risks.”

Oh, she’s upgraded you from a peck to a short kiss.

“Because you’re too damn delicate.”

Another short kiss.

“Am I clear?”

“Crystal.”

“Good.”

Complementary upgrade to long kiss, nice.

Well, that went well. Maybe a little too well, the taste of bear spit is heavy on your lips. Who knew you were such a sweet talker anon? One little line and you’re showered in her love. I mean the line wasn’t exactly original, Smith kind of came up with it first, but it makes you feel good to know how you both feel towards each other. Poor communication is a known killer of relationships after all. And if there’s one thing you want to do with Smith it’s communicate, have a little back and forth, heh, back and forth. Smith goes over to your packs and you follow her.

Anon and Smith don’t know it, but a certain and curious Coyote and his Vixen wife just watched that whole thing go down.

Cold Waters

Smith puts her green rucksack on and hands your pack to you. You swing it on, ready for whatever lies ahead. She pulls her aviators out of her pocket and flicks them open, placing them on her face.

“So Smith, how long is the journey to the nearest trail supposed to take again?”

“Given current trail conditions and the damage the storm caused last night we might as well just hike almost directly to the trailhead where you started from. We’ll probably get there by tomorrow morning. We’ll end up by where your car is parked.”

“You know where my car is parked?”

“It’s listed on your camping permit genius.”

“Still, I’m surprised you remembered.”

“I’ll be sure to add a decent memory to the list of bear things humans wish they had.”

You try to sound as menacing as possible. “Keep talking like that and I may have to start a list of my own.”

“I’m real scared Anon, what are you going to put on it? Toenails? Earlobes? That weird hair you grow on your face?” She can barely stop herself from laughing.

“Look who’s talking miss fur face, and they’re called beards and mustaches by the way.”

“Still inferior to bear fur.”

“Fine, but then again, I was thinking of body parts a little lower than the face.” You say with a smug grin.

“Hon, if you’re implying what I think you’re implying then I may have to pin you down and,” she has a dramatic pause, “give you a long and passionate lecture on the dangers of having lewd thoughts before marriage.”

“Long and passionate, heh.” She punches you in the shoulder, it hurts more than you expected.

“We’re burning daylight here Anon, let’s get a move on.”

The pain in your shoulder suppressing any further dangerous lewd thoughts, you and Smith begin the trek to the trailhead. As you progress you notice quite a few recently fallen trees and branches littering the ground, clearly victims of the storm the previous night. Complicating things is the freshly moistened ground, patches of ice and slick mud make navigating the terrain more difficult compared to the past few days. More than once you fall flat on your ass only for Smith to help pick you up, she’s now added bear feet to her list.

By the afternoon you two make it to a river crossing. The water flows a few feet below the steep embankment that surrounds it. Across the rivers width is a wooden rope bridge barely wide enough to let one person cross at a time. It dangles precariously about a dozen feet above the water.

“Hey Smith, do you trust that bridge?”

“About as far as I could throw it.” She’s studying a map she brought with her, you can see several parts crossed out in red marker.

“Think we can go around it?”

“Well, it appears that the storm tore down every other bridge around for several miles, and we sure as hell are not going to wade through ice water.”

“Maybe we could build a canoe, you know, go native.”

“Didn’t you say something about no more stupid jokes in the supply room.”

“Okay.” You say dejectedly.

“Anon, I’ll go first since I’m the-”

“Braver of the two of us.”

She grins, “Right, so if I can cross it then so can you.”

“Be safe Smith, if your gut says to turn around then turn around, I don’t even want to think what would happen if another ranger found me unaccompanied and without a valid camping permit.”

“Well as stated in Forest Service penal code part 5 sub paragraph 7, a person found camping without an up to date permit shall be strung up by his jowls and whipped vigorously from dusk till dawn, thus discouraging them from committing further heinous violations of the law.”

“Very comforting.”

“Well Anon, I’ll see you on the other side,” she takes a few steps before realizing what she just said, “of the bridge Anon, other side of the bridge.”

“I know what you meant, good luck Smith.”

She takes a cautious step onto the first wooden board, hands gripping the ropes serving as guardrails. Step after step she begins to make good progress across the bridge. You grimace as the bridge starts swaying due to her movement, but she doesn’t even seem to notice. Now she’s at the halfway mark, then she’s at the ¾ mark, then she’s nearing the end. You breathe a sigh of relief as she steps onto solid ground, that bridge must be sturdier than you thought. She yells at you across the river.

“It’s a little icy in the middle! Watch your step!”

You flash her a thumbs up and begin your trek. There’s far too much space between each step than you would like, you’ll have a birds eye view of the freezing water below you the entire way. You have to move at a snails pace, the ice on the bridge seem impervious to the treads on your boots as you move from plank to plank. She was right about that ice in the middle, several planks are totally covered in a nice pale coat of freezing death. You take the rail guard ropes and move them to under your armpits, anticipating losing your step. Good thing you do that, since it takes you several tries on each board to find a place your boots don’t immediately slide off. You awkwardly shuffle your way across the most dangerous parts of the bridge, thankfully the rest of it seems mostly iceless. No longer in extreme danger, you release the ropes from your armpits and continue along normally. Okay, 3/4s of the way through now, you’re making good progress Anon. Just a little further an-SNAP.

The board underneath your leading right foot splits into two pieces and falls down into the river. Your right foot rapidly moves downward into the space the board once occupied. Your left knee comes down onto the board behind you and, unable to deal with the sudden impact, it snaps as well. Acting on pure instinct your hands move away from the guard ropes and desperately try to grasp onto something in front of you. You manage to get a hold of one of the planks in front. You only manage to grip onto it for dear life for a couple seconds before the combined effects of a full pack, heavy winter clothing, and not lifting tears your grip from the plank. As you enter a freefall into the river below your life flashes bef- haha no it doesn’t. Your mind is filled with an indescribable terror at the thought that your death is only minutes away. I mean you’ll survive the fall, but even assuming you can swim to shore it won’t take very long for your wet clothes to give you a quick death from hypothermia. And to think you’re going to die when you were so close to reaching safety, better luck next time Anon.

The bridge above seems so very small now. As your body smacks into the river you’re immediately coated in a blanket of freezing cold water. For a few brief seconds you’re completely submerged gasping for air as the warmth leaves your body. Water enters your mouth and lungs, liquid now sapping heat both from within and outside you. You float up to the surface spitting out water. You try to get your bearings. You see you aren’t that far from one side of the river, and you can see Smith is already moving down the embankment towards you. You begin to try and swim but your body is barely even able to move due to the shock. Every push of your legs and stroke of your arms comes out half hearted despite putting a great amount of effort behind each movement, and worse still, you can practically feel the heat leave your body with each passing second. At least on the bright side the river is flowing fairly slowly, so you won’t be carried away very far. With a great deal of mental effort you begin swimming towards Smith. By the time you near her you’ve long since lost the feeling in your hands and feet. Smith takes a few steps into the water and drags your dripping wet body out. She wraps an arm around your waist and helps you reach solid ground. Thankfully your legs still work so she doesn’t have to carry you, but you have a feeling you won’t have that luxury for long.

After the two of you reach a few dozen feet from the river she stops and embraces you. It would be nice to say that you feel better after she hugs you, but you only have enough motor control to hang there like a shivering limp noodle and her warmth can’t penetrate your freezing skin and waterlogged clothes. You can faintly her whispering “oh god” in a frantic desperate pace.

After several seconds she gently moves you to the ground.

“Sorry hon but I have to do this.”

She removes your pack and throws it several feet away. She then begins removing your wet clothing layer by layer. It seems weird when she removes your last upper layer and your bare chest is now exposed to the air. You should feel colder, but you feel exactly the same. Same with your feet as she removes your socks and your legs as she tears away your pants and underwear. Now a shivering naked mess on the ground, you curl up into the fetal position as Smith frantically rummages around her rucksack for something.

She removes a small clear package with a shiny silver space blanket within. She tries opening it, her large fingers and claws not making things easy. She gets it open and retrieves the tightly folded blanket within. Desperately trying to unfold it, her claws make several holes in its thin material.

“Goddamnit, FUCK FUCK FUCK!”

After it reaches its full coverage, she runs over to you and gets you up to a sitting position before covering your body with the blanket. You don’t feel any warmer, but it’s not like you have much body heat left to contain anyway. Smith is frantically putting together her tent in front of you screaming expletives the entire time. In the blink of an eye it’s staked and set up, this is probably only the millionth time she’s done it. She removes a bear sized sleeping bag from her pack and goes to put it inside the tent.

You’ve stopped shivering. Is that good? Is that bad? You don’t really care because you also feel incredibly sleepy. God if you shut your eyes right now you’re sure you would immediately fall asleep, you’re so tired, just a little nap couldn’t hurt, just 5 minutes, you’ll wake up feeling fine, that’s what you need, you don’t even feel cold anymore, come on, just a litt- NO YOU HAVE TO FIGHT IT ANON! Through sheer force of will you keep your eyes open, and you’re glad you did since Smith just emerged from her tent.

She’s completely naked from head to toe. She even took off her sunglasses. Even though near death and in shock you can’t help but notice a few things as she rushes over to you. As you expected she’s got a pendulous set of breasts, nipples hidden under a short and soft type of fur that coats her entire chest and belly, contrasting nicely with the longer fur on the rest of her. As she runs you can see that there is a plush layer of fat concentrated along her midsection and hips giving her a decent paunch, her fur moving a split second out of step as it jiggles. Mmmmmm, delightfully thicc.

You snap out of your horny moment as you hear her desperate cries while she throws away your blanket and scoops you up.

“Ohgodohgod please don’t leave me baby please don’t leave me not now not now”

She has you in a princess carry as you enter her tent. She gently sets you down in her sleeping bag before getting in herself and zipping it closed. Despite being significantly larger than your own sleeping bag it’s still a tight fit for two bodies. She gets on her side and moves her arms around your back pushing your chest into her, your head is just below her neck. The first thing your mind notices is that piney rosy scent again. Sweet, yet earthy. It’s surprising how much it puts your mind at ease. Her desperate pleading has slowed down, the same kinds of words being spoken with a more confident but still distressed pace. There’s some feeling returning to your body finally. You can feel the pads on her hands gently rubbing your back, every now and then there’s the slightest poke of a claw. You feel just how soft her fur is on your naked body. It’s heavenly, like being wrapped up in your favorite wool sweater from head to toe. But it’s even better than that, it’s softer, warmer, closer, more intimate. Now that you have feeling back so are the shakes. You’re not shivering quite as hard as you were before, but your body is still just above the temperature of a corpse, improving, but still corpse like. You can tell Smith notices your shivers since her grip on you increases its tightness and her pleading becomes just a little more frantic. You would tell her something to calm her nerves down, but your jaw is frozen shut, metaphorically you hope, so all you can do is lay in the best blanket the world ever knew and wait for your motor control to return.

You guess half an hour has passed by now. Smith is still rubbing your back and the pleading has stopped. The good news is that you feel warm, hell almost too warm. You test the movement in your arm by moving it slightly. Hey your shoulder works, and so does your elbow, but your hand is somewhat numb. Still, that’s enough for what you need to do. You push your arm between the sleeping bag and Smiths body to place a hand on her side, then you gently rub her fur with your palm. Smith, feeling your gesture, briefly stops rubbing your back in surprise. She plants a few kisses on the top of your head before resuming. Your mission to let her know you’re only partially a meat popsicle complete you allow yourself to drift off into a much-needed slumber.

The Beast with Two Backs

You’re standing in the forest again. In front of you is a feral black bear at least twice the size it should be, cold black eyes filled with hunger and maw dripping with saliva.

“Hey Smith.”

The bear disappears and is instantly replaced by Ranger Smith in her familiar green and tan uniform.

“Hey hon.”

“Where we headed?”, you inquire.

“This is your trip; we can go wherever you want.”

“Let’s go someplace warm and sunny, like a beach.”

Your surroundings instantly change to a warm and sunny beach. You’re laying on a lounge chair in swimming shorts with a blue beverage containing a little umbrella in your left hand. You look to your right and Smith is in a similar position, though she’s holding a significantly larger pink drink and wearing a tan and green bikini. Her shiny silver aviators might as well be reflecting a supernova they’re so bright.

“Ahhhh man, I could get used to this Smith.”

“Well don’t plan on it hon, I don’t think I’ll be around much longer.”

“What do you mean?”

She begins counting on her fingers, “No fur, no claws, no teeth, no sense of smell, no ammo, no night vision, no-“

You awaken to something licking your ear. Still groggy, you push away the muzzle of the dog or whatever that’s licking you.

“Your ear’s still cold hon.”

Oh fuck that’s right. You’re still in the sleeping bag with Smith.

You look up at her, or at least to where you think she is, it’s pitch black inside her tent.

“Sorry, by all means continue.”

“Gladly.”

She continues coating your ear in warmth and bear saliva. Feels good man.

Your hand is still on her side, as you shift to move it to her back you become aware of her plump breasts resting against your chest. Man they’re soft, and warm, and fuzzy, and before you know it your hand is now touching a breast instead of her back. Smith stops licking your ear. Unable to read her facial expression even if you looked at her due to the darkness, you remove your hand from her boob and place it back at her side. Only for a clawed hand to grab your own and place it right back on her breast, she begins licking your ear again. You’re making progress Anon. You begin playing with the soft flesh in front of you. Kneading it, rubbing it, exploring every hill and valley your fingers. Soon enough you uncover one of the nipples hiding under her fur. You rub your thumb around its nub and feel it slightly harden in response. You hear a pleased moan escape from Smith as she continues her onslaught against your ear. Well she seems to be liking what you’re doing so far, let’s move it a little further down.

Slowly, gently, you move hand towards her belly tracing every part of her breast along the way. Out of breast, you reach the top of her belly an-

“huh?”

You feel a nub, like a nipple, but it’s on her belly. They didn’t teach you about this in school. Actually there’s a lot of things they didn’t teach you about in school, but right now you REALLY wish you had a class on black bear anthro anatomy.

Hearing your confused exclamation, Smith whispers into your ear. “Bears have six breasts hon, the bottom four don’t fill out unless I’m with cubs.”

“Thanks for the tip.”

“I guess you don’t read many books on black bear anthro anatomy.”

“Didn’t have much time to do my homework I guess.”

“Well you can study me all you want tonight.” She says seductively.

“I was hoping you would say something like that, you cheesy bear you.”

She chuckles, then switches her focus to your forehead rather than your ear. You move your hand all around her soft belly, trying to find the locations of her 3 mystery nipples. You can’t help but marvel at the incredibly downy feel of her belly fur, and how just below it there’s a cushy layer of adipose. It would truly make for the ultimate pillow, but if Smith wants to lick your face she can’t very well do that with your head down there now can she? You continue running your hands across her body until you suss out the location of her last belly nipple. In recognition of your victory, you gently rub it with your thumb until another tiny moan escapes Smiths lips. Now, about that trip south. You move your hand to the bottom of her belly, riding over her paunch and onto her mons pubis. Just a little further an-

“Well hon I think it’s about time I got dinner going, ought to make it before it gets even colder out there.”

“Ya, sounds good to me.” Your trip south will have to wait until after dinner.

Smith unzips the sleeping bag and gently gets out, then zips it back up to keep you warm. You hear her shuffle around the tent, she must be getting some clothes on, how very modest of her when she’s out in the middle of nowhere. She opens the tent flap to leave and you can see it’s already nighttime but the ground is well lit by a full moon. It doesn’t take long until Smith has a roaring fire started in front of the tent. Your clothes and pack dry next to the fire as Smith heats up a couple of freeze-dried meals.

As you stare out of the tent you can’t help but notice how downright pleasant it is right now. Tree branches gently sway in the cold breeze. The blazing fire in front of you manages to fight back the chilly air bathing you in currents of warmth. The ashy smell of burning wood fills the air. Faintly in the distance you can hear an owl hooting into the forest. Water from the nearby river splashes onto shore in a pleasant rhythm. The contrast between tonight and the previous several nights is not lost on you. No more pitch-black darkness hiding who knows what kinds of monsters from your vision. No more stumbling through the forest lost and confused. No more worrying about when you’ll run out of food and water. The forest seems much more charming than it used to.

You stick your head out of the tent and look up. There it is, a sight that’s been hidden from you for the past several days by thick clouds, the beautiful twinkling night sky with a big bright shining moon. You want a better look, so you lay on your back, your upper torso poking outside the tent. Let’s see, there’s the North Star, and the big dipper, and uhh, those are all the ones you know. Oh well, you’re perfectly content just staring at the sky ignorant of its many named constellations. After a few minutes you hear Smith get up from her position by the fire. She lays down next to you, your heads are right next to each other but her feet are facing the opposite direction of yours.

“The food ready?”

“It needs a few more minutes. Did I catch you stargazing hon?”

“You did, and I’m very proud of the fact that I found the Big Dipper without even having to look at a starmap.”

“The Big Dipper huh? I have something to show you, look very closely where I point my claw.”

She first points to each of the stars in the Big Dipper constellation, then traces several smaller stars to the right and below it.

“Does that pattern look like anything to you?”

“It looks kind of like an animal, like a horse.”

“Wrong animal, try again.”

She traces the stars with her claw once more.

“Okay, it’s got a pretty long neck and legs, is it the giraffe constellation?”

She turns her head to look at you. Her disappointment is palpable.

“Come on Anon, that’s Ursa Major, also known as the great bear.”

“I…really should have guessed that earlier.”

“I hope you took notes, I fully expect you to be able to find that constellation next time I tell you to find it.”

She playfully pokes you with a claw.

“Okay okay! Ursa Major, part of the big dipper, great bear, not a giraffe, got it.”

“Good, now I need to check on the food.”

You sit back up in the tent as she retrieves the food packets. She returns and you both sit inside the entrance of the tent, moonlight covering you both in a soft white glow as the light from the fire dances across your bodies.

“Well Anon, do you prefer spaghetti with meat sauce or Fettucine Alfredo?”

“Felt like having Italian tonight huh?

“Felt like celebrating you not dying after your little swim.”

“Well that’s one way of putting it, now all we need is some nice wine and limitless breadsticks.”

“I can only do so much out here hon” She hands you the spaghetti.

You both begin eating.

“So Smith, if you don’t mind, I have some questions for you.”

“I’m pretty sure I already know what you’re talking about, shoot.”

“So, do you have any idea what happened to the ammo in my gun and backpack.”

“You remember my little speech I gave you before we set out? I thought you may be more inclined to follow it if I confiscated your ammo, so I did. It’s not like you’ll have much trouble with the local wildlife with me around. You can have your clips back whenever you want.”

“I see, and I’m also missing a pair of boxers and socks.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“I only have my spares left.”

“Well I tore the ones you were wearing while taking them off, so I had to throw them away.” It almost sounds like that line was rehearsed.

“Okay, whatever. But one last question. You remember when we first met? And you gave me directions to make it to the nearest trail? Did you tell me to go North or East?”

She starts and stops while trying to think of a way to answer, “Well Anon, you see, there just, it wasn’t like, there’s a long answer to that question.”

“I’m willing to listen.”

“Okay, so for the past few months there’s been a number of odd occurrences around the park. Dead animals with unusual claw marks, clothes found torn apart in the middle of nowhere, strange animal calls in the middle of the night, and the park doesn’t want me to say this, but there’s been a spike in missing people around here, mostly humans. So when I found you, a furless, clawless, toothless, little man out in the middle of nowhere, in the freezing weather, with almost no supplies, you just seemed so helpless, so vulnerable. I guess that tripped some kind of protective instinct in me because I told you to go north towards the ranger station since I knew I could keep you safe there. I thought you may protest so I confiscated your map. Then there’s that bitch I smelled on you.”

“Bitch?”

“I could tell just from the smell she was a wolf anthro, young, muscular, large, and in heat, I smelled her on your pants yesterday morning. You said you were solo hiking so I assumed she was some friend of yours that put her scent on you before you started your trip to try and claim you as hers. Cunts used to pull that shit all the time when I was younger. She’s half the reason I washed your clothes at the ranger station, couldn’t stand smelling her mark on someone as helpless as you, no offense.” She spoke with a tinge of hate in her voice, you get the idea that she doesn’t like wolf anthros very much.

Your mind goes back to that encounter with the two reflective yellow eyes, my god, that wasn’t saliva was it?

“You know Smith, I remember encountering some kind of animal the night before you found me, it must have been what screamed when I started shooting at the beaver.” Smith gives you a confused look. “I went to where it was standing, and I guess I wiped some of its uhh, scent, onto my pant leg. I’m pretty sure that’s what you smelled.”

“Jesus, that’s even worse. So now you’re telling me there’s some wolf anthro HUSSY running around the park perving on guests and doing who knows what else in MY woods. That BITCH!”

A big wolf anthro. Strange occurrences in the park. Discarded ripped clothing. Strange animal calls. Dead wildlife. Missing people. And a big bright full moon outside. This can only mean one thing.

“Smith, what if this wolf anthro is actually a werewolf.”

She stares at you with a bewildered expression before putting a hand up to your forehead to check your temperature.

“Well I don’t think you’re running a fever so you better explain yourself hon, considering werewolves don’t exist and all.”

“Look, all I’m saying is that it’s a little weird that I ran into a big horny wolf anthro so close to a full moon and while you have all these strange things happening in the park.”

“I’m sure they’re just coincidences hon, I’ve spent enough time in the woods to know that mystical creatures and forest gods don’t exist.”

“Aww man Smith, you just ruined my dreams of finding a unicorn out here.”

“Sorry hon, but to make it up to you I can think of one other forest creature that’s equally horny.” Her gaze moves from her food up to you. The bear is giving you bedroom eyes. Very aggressive bedroom eyes.

You put on a shit eating grin. “And I think that there’s some late night studying I need to finish”

Like a Mexican standoff, the two of you just sit there waiting to see who will take the initiative. Just when you think about making a move Smith’s black lips curl up into a menacing smile revealing her sizable canines. Okay, maybe you’ll let her go first. She opens her maw and lunges at you. She turns her head to the side and puts her mouth up to yours, sharp teeth grazing your cheeks. You feel one of her hands move to your back to push you towards her, while another holds the back of your head. You respond by placing both hands upon her furry cheeks. Her soft tongue invades your mouth and playfully tangles with your own, each of you eager to taste the other. You hear Smith moan deeply as the two of you embrace, utterly lost in the moment. She leans forward into you and you lean back until she’s practically on top of you. As soon as you’re horizontal she removes her hands from your body and begins removing her clothing while keeping your faces locked together. You’re still naked and wrapped up in the sleeping bag so you remove your hands from her cheeks to unzip it, splaying it to create a soft bed for you both to make sweet, sweet, love on.

Her body now bare, she straddles your belly and places a furry paw on either side of your face as she continues her facial onslaught. Her breaths come at a more rapid pace as you feel every exhale. As she lays on top of you her soft belly coats your entire upper body in warmth and comfort, easily overpowering the cold breeze coming in from the open tent. You place a hand on each of her hanging breasts, uncovering each nipple under her fur and slowly rub the tender centers. It doesn’t take long for soft moans to escape from Smith in between her sharp breaths. Satisfied, you gently move one of your hands further down her body while continuing to rub her breast with the other. Your hand reaches the end of her breast, then the first belly nipple down. You rotate your thumb around it a few times, then proceed to do the same with next belly nipple below. The relay race to your objective now complete, you move your hand down past her plushy paunch, down onto her furred mons pubis, and feel the moist fur surrounding her honeypot.

The fur surrounding her womanhood is significantly shorter than the rest of her body, though whether it’s because she cuts it, or it grows that way you can’t tell. It’s also soaking wet in a thick coating of her warm grool. Your finger touches her clitoris and she shudders for a brief moment, eyes closed shut as the all-encompassing wave of pleasure passes through her body. You continue moving down and feel her supple lips against your hand. God she’s warm down here. There it is, the prize, the goal, the one and only, Smiths bear pussy. You delicately put one finger past the entrance. Good lord and you thought she was warm on the outside, her insides are like a sauna. Your finger reaches its full depth then you join it with another. Gradually, you start working your fingers back and forth, your palm rubbing against her clit as you do. She’s stopped mooching your face now, head still and eyes closed, her mind taking in every one of your gentle movements. After several tender moments she slowly lifts her head and body up, several thick strands of saliva that connect your mouths droop and break as she moves.

As her back goes vertical her eyes are still closed. She slowly opens them then looks down at you, opening her mouth.

“Hon, didn’t anyone ever tell you to never poke the bear?”

You realize what she’s talking about, your erect member is poking her butt. When did you get hard? How long has it been there? There’s one thing you do know, and that’s where it’s going next.

She lifts herself and inches back until her crotch is just above your own, you can feel a few drops of hot grool drip onto the tip of your dick as she positions herself. She reaches under and grabs your cock, a brush from one her claws puts a touch of fear into you, but it quickly fades as she lines herself up and you begin to feel your cockhead push past her lips. There’s the same hotness and wetness you felt when you fingered her but feeling it with your dick makes the sensation a dozen times more pleasurable. She removes her hand from your cock and places both her mitts just below your ribcage, gently depressing your soft skin with her grip. She’s hilted you now, and you’ve long since drifted into cloud 9. Slow at first, but gradually getting faster, she moves her hips up and down in a rhythmic fashion, sending a constant stream of pleasure right from your dick to your brain. Smith grunts with every impact, and you can even feel her breath on your chest she’s panting so hard. Instinctually you begin raising your crotch to meet hers when she comes down, Smith responds by increasing her pace obviously enjoying the more intimate mating of hips. Your poor pelvis is going to be bruised tomorrow from the onslaught, but you decide it’s an acceptable casualty.

You like what’s going on but it feels rude to make Smith do all the work. You look past your chest and see her big plentiful titties, swinging with every one of her motions. Without even thinking you grab a soft breast and crane your head towards it, getting the idea Smith hunches further forward giving you even easier access. Fingers search for the hidden teat. Objective found, you brush away the fur and circle it with your tongue. Smiths moans of pleasure increase in volume and frequency, you have a feeling she’s close to a climax. You put your lips to her breast and gently suck it. Those must be some sensitive nips, since not long after you can feel Smiths velvety walls tighten. She looks upward, releasing a roar so loud and long you’re pretty some airline pilots just heard it. Not quite in control of her body, her hold on your midsection becomes a death grip. It’s not a pleasant feeling when several bear claws make deep scratches in your skin, but it’s a burden you’re more than willing to bear, just for her. As the roar finishes her grip loosens, and she falls forward onto you. There’s that piney scent again, it smells good, but you won’t be able to breathe it in for very long with bear fur blocking your oxygen. You move your head out from under her body and it ends up right next to hers.

She lazily licks her lips before speaking

“I liked that hon.”

“I liked that too.”

There’s a pregnant pause.

“I didn’t even finish though.”

Authors Note: The technical terms for a male and female bear are boar and sow respectively. No reference to any other animal is meant to be implied when I use those terms in this story.

“All that effort and my little boar still complains, tsk tsk tsk.” She waves a claw in front of your face.”

“One more go?”

“Fine, but you’re on top this time, and then it’s right to bed you horny little ape.”

“Deal.”

She gets up and closes the tent flap, plunging it once again into total darkness.

“It’s a little too dark in here Smith.”

“Well I can see just fine and it’s getting cold in here.” Cold? With your combined heat it’s plenty warm in the tent.

“Come on Smith, my shitty human eyes literally can’t see anything.”

“Then let me, heh, show you the way hon.” What was that guys name again? Jorge Lucismo?

You hear her shuffle around in the tent, getting ready for whatever mystery position her mind is thinking of. She stops, and you feel something on your back. It’s the back of her feet, she nudges you forward until you hit something wet and fuzzy, then her hands bend your back down. Oh, missionary huh? You get to work lining yourself up and plunge into her. Grabbing her love handles makes this easy work. Her hands rest gently on your back as you piston back and forth. You were already halfway to cumming before, so it doesn’t take long before you feel that familiar tingle in your balls. A few harder than normal thrusts later and you’re releasing several days worth of backed up baby batter into her bear cave. Oh man this feels good. As you plunge forward a few more times to finish the job you’re surprised to hear another one of her roars. Her walls clench up again and she enters another quivering climax. Oh shit. Her hands throw you down onto her belly and really tear into you this time. You’re sure there are 10 deep claw marks on your back, yet somehow the pain doesn’t stop your dick from twitching as you come down from your own peak. Exhausted, you just lay there on her body for a bit.

Apparently not quite asleep, you can hear her nose sniff the air. She takes in a few deep inhales then cranes her head up to sniff closer to your body.

“Oh my god. I smell blood on you.”

“Well your claws are pretty sharp Smith.”

“I did that?!” She sounds regretful.

“You get grabby when you climax.”

“Oh my god.”

In a manner vaguely reminiscent of when she pulled you out of the water, she mutters obscenities under breath and pulls you off of her, laying you on your belly on the sleeping bag. Smith then begins licking your back up and down, some ancient instinct to lick wounds apparently activated.

“You don’t have to do that Smith, I have bandaids in my backpack.”

“Shush hon. Bear saliva has healing properties.”

“You’re just making that up.”

“Would you prefer I rub dirt in it?”

“Fine, fine, continue the tongue bath.”

She continues licking. Eventually satisfied with her work, she stops and lays down next to you, a warm furry arm laying across your body.”

“What’s the diagnosis doc?”

“You’re a little low in iron, and brain cells, but in the professional opinion of this sow I think you’re gonna make it.”

You feel a wet nose boop your own.

“Goodnight Smith.”

“Goodnight Anon.”

Bad Dog

You’re standing in the forest again, alo- wait no you aren’t. Smith is right in front of you. She’s hiding something behind her back.

“What are you hiding Smith?”

“It’s a secret Anon.”

“Is it a weapon?”

“Nope.”

“Is it food?”

“Try again.”

“Some kind of gift?”

“You could say that.”

“Like a smartwatch?”

“Much lower tech than that.”

“Money?”

“It’s far more precious than money hon.”

“Something sentimental, like a photo?”

“You’re awful at this, I’ll give you some hints. It’s small. It’s made of plastic. And it has a window.”

“So it’s……. a really small model house with one window?”

You wake up. You had a dream? Something about windows? Probably a nightmare about windows 10.

You’re cold. Too cold. You look around and Smith is gone. Well that explains why you’re freezing. You sit up still encased in the sleeping bag. Your pack and clothes are in the tent and dry, Smith must have brought them in before she left. You look outside. It’s still dim out but the rising sun is slowly bringing a soft orange light in. The fire outside is smoldering, she must have left to get more firewood. Might as well go outside to help her, you do owe her for saving your life not once but twice after all.

You put everything on minus your pack and step out of the tent. Your breath still mists in the chill air but you expected it to be far colder out here given how freezing yesterday was. Or maybe yesterday just felt cold because of your unwanted submersion in an icy river. You try not to think about it.

You call out for Smith but hear no reply. She must be pretty far out given how good bear hearing supposedly is. But you can think of one more way of finding her. You scour the perimeter of the camp searching for her bear prints. Oh yeah, there they are, big paw pads with imprints from her curved claws all around. Now just to follow them.

You trace her footprints for several minutes into the forest. Not much scrap wood around here, no wonder she had to go so far away from camp. You’re about to crest a hill when you hear heavy footsteps from the other side, must be her coming back.

“Hey Smith, I was wondering where yo-“

BAM!

Several hundred pounds of meat and muscle slam into you, sending you crashing back. You get back up to look at her.

“Smith you clumsy bear wh-“

That’s not Smith. That’s a fucking female werewolf. Or at least a very tall, very muscular, and very scary looking wolf anthro that just so happens to look like a werewolf. But do wolf anthros have red eyes and canines several inches long? You don’t think so.

There it is again, that smell, it’s musky, wet, like a dog that hasn’t had a bath in far too long. This is without a doubt the mystery creature that stared at you earlier. Her dull red eyes stare you up and down sizing you up. You move your arm to get your gun out and this causes the wolf to pounce at you. You’re knocked back down onto the ground and she straddles your body. Before you finish your draw she grabs both your arms with her hands and pins them at your sides. The claws that tip her fingers dig in and rip the sleeves on your jacket, fuck they must be sharp. They then move to your shoulders tearing into them as well. Her head moves to your neck and you swear she’s about to rip into a jugular or two.

But she smells something. She’s sniffing around your chest. Deep rapid inhales as if she’s on the trail of something. Her head moves further down to your belly, then your crotch. She lingers there for a while breathing in whatever scent she’s focused on in. Suddenly she raises her head towards the sky and let’s loose an unbearably loud “AWOOOOOOO!”. She turns her head back at you to snarl, then runs back in the direction she came from. Seeing an opportunity you get your gun out and aim at her fleeing form, you pull the trigger, click. Anon you dummy you forgot Smith took all your ammo.

Smith, she smelled Smith on you. And when she smelled Smith on you she went right in her direction. Fuck. And you have no ammo or anything else to defend against the wolf with. Double fuck. But you know where to get ammo. You rush back to camp as fast as you possibly can, lungs burning as they feel the crisp air enter them. You make it to the tent and find Smiths green rucksack. You frantically begin rummaging through it, your brain doesn’t even register what you’re throwing onto the floor, only that it isn’t magazine shaped. Ah! There they are! At the bottom of the rucksack of course. You load the full one into your pistol and put the partial into a pocket.

You quickly exit the tent and find Smiths tracks again, following them as fast as you possibly can. Damnit why did she have to go so far away from the camp? Your legs burn with acid as you continue your sprint up and down every hill. You hear something off in the distance. A low roar. Oh fuck. Was that smith? Was that the wolf? Are they fighting? Who’s winning? If that bitch wolf as much as lays a finger on your blessed bear you’re going to pull every single gray hair out of her pelt you swear to god.

You’re getting closer now. Worryingly you also hear more sounds of fighting. Yelps, roars, grunts, brief screams even. Come on mama bear, just hold on a little longer. You crest yet another hill and YES! There’s Smith. On the ground. Bloody. And the wolf is circling her. That MOTHERFUCKER. You begin yelling to distract the wolf from finishing the job.

“Hey bitch! Fuck you! I bet your cookie has raisins in it! Come get some!”

Her ears turn to your direction then she moves in for an attack, limbs a blur as she sprints in for a quick meal. But you have the advantage of ranged weaponry. You take stop, take aim, and fire a shot right at her chest. It goes wide and into her shoulder. She yelps and stops dead in her tracks assessing her wound. She turns her head back to you, eyes in a rage, and resumes her sprint. You fire again, miss. Quick jerking the trigger jackass. You fire again hitting her arm. But this time she doesn’t even stop, not even noticing the wound. Fuck she’s getting close now. You fire at her legs hoping to slow her down. Miss. QUIT JERKING THE FUCKING TRIGGER! Only a dozen feet away now. You fire one more time and hit your mark. A splash of blood is thrown from her thigh. She stumbles, but her momentum pushes her into you. Your pistol falls out of your hands as you fly back. Stars. Darkness. Then stars again. Your vision returns and you spot the wolf only a few feet away starting to get up. Bye Mom. Bye Dad. We regret to inform you your son got killed by a horny werewolf while eloping with a park ranger he met two days previously.

Wait, no, the wolf is turning towards the hill you just came from, limping and shouting pained yelps the entire away. A retreat. Hah! You get up on shaky legs and find your pistol among the dead leaves, just in case she comes around for seconds. You rush down the hill the best you can in your dazed state to see Smith sitting up. As you get closer you can see multiple claw marks across her shoulders, chest, arms, and muzzle. Her uniform is a tattered mess.

“Oh god smith I thought you were dead!”

You rush in to give her bloody form a hug. She just puts her muzzle on your shoulder and a hand on your back.

You exit the hug and put your hands on her cheeks, staring into her eyes with incredible concern.

“How badly are you hurt Smith?! You need bandages? CPR? Heimlich maneuver?”

“I think I’ll live hon”

“You need me to lick your wounds? I don’t think human saliva has healing properties but it might make you feel better.”

“…I’ll pass. We should get back to camp.”

You help her to her feet and begin the slow walk to camp. She really is bleeding a lot but mentally she seems unphased by the encounter. Finally you reach the tent and move inside it. She needs bandages, lots of bandages. You tear some of your own clothing up and wrap it around the largest cuts, sealing the smaller ones with judicious application of your bandaids. You tell Smith to stay in the tent while you make breakfast. You really have to scrounge around to get enough wood to get the fire going again but that’s okay, anything for your bear. Once the flames get going you make a mighty breakfast of biscuits and gravy, breakfast skillet, and scrambled eggs with ham, all from the finest of freeze-dried packs of course. You find a sneaky packet of instant coffee hiding in the bottom of your pack and make it as well.

You go to her tent and hand her two packets of food and a cup of coffee.

“Thanks hon, these wounds really aren’t as bad as they look you know, I’ve been through worse.”

“Well it makes me feel bad looking at them.”

“What? Never seen blood before?”

“Oh I’ve seen blood before but never that much blood on a person who was still breathing.”

“I’ll be fine hon, can’t say the same about the uniform though.”

“It’s replaceable, but you aren’t Smith.”

She looks at you and gives a dopey smile before continuing to eat.

When you’re done you both decide to pack up and leave. As you’re helping Smith repack her rucksack out of the corner of your eye you swear you see two very familiar looking pairs of socks and underwear quickly stuffed back in it. Huh.

“So, how much longer is the trip to the trailhead?”

She consults her map. “We’re almost there, maybe one more hour of hiking through the woods until we reach part of the trail, then just fifteen minutes or so of hiking on the trail itself until we reach the start of it.”

The remainder of the trip is tense. You keep your gun out despite the odd looks from the occasional hiker as they see a raggedy murder hobo and a bloody park ranger pass them. Your eyes dart around your surroundings searching for the wolf that almost killed you. As you get closer to the trailhead the density of people increases, and you finally feel safe enough to put your weapon away. When you’re almost there you can’t help but notice an odd-looking couple pass you. Both in black trench coats. One much taller than the other. Muttering about skulls and smolders or something? The short one seemed very adamant about something not existing.

At last the time is here. You and Smith have reached the beginning of the trail.

And the End of the Story

You both look at each other.

“Well Smith we made it, mostly in one piece.”

“And I only had to save your life two times Anon.”

“Hey now, I saved you from the werewolf so the score is one and two.”

“You still owe me though.”

“True.”

An awkward silence.

“Well Anon, I guess this is where we part ways. Park service is going to want to know about that wild bitch in the woods.”

“No way, I insist you come to my apartment so you can get those wounds properly bandaged up. It’s the least I can do.”

“Well, if you insist. Who am I to turn down such hospitality from a fine young man such as yourself?”

She pinches your cheek. It hurts.

“Watch the claws Smith! The claws!”

She gets in your face.

“Oh come on, what’s one more mark among the dozen I gave you last night?”

“I’m already concussed Smith, don’t push your luck.”

“Oh alright my brittle little boar.”

The two of you make it to your car and begin the short drive to your apartment. The trip is silent.

You pull into your apartments small parking lot. As Smith gets out you can’t help but notice some blood on her seat. She really is in bad shape.

“Well here it is Smith, home sweet home.”

You turn on the lights to your moderately sized abode and get a medkit out from a closet. Smith sits down on your couch.

“You want coffee? Soda? I think I still have some beer left in the fridge.”

“Just some water is fine hon.”

You get her a bottle of water and sit down next to her on the couch. She chugs the whole thing in one go. Thirsty bear. You use scissors to cut off the bandages hastily applied in the tent and get a better look at the damage. 3 vertical slash marks across the right side of her muzzle. At least 12 in multiple angles across her chest, though these aren’t all that deep. But the worst ones are across her shoulders and arms, she must have been using them to block the wolfs attacks. You can’t even tell how many cuts there are through the blood and dark fur.

“Jesus Smith, you should probably go to a hospital to get some of these stitched up.”

“I already told you, I’ve been through worse, and I can deal with a few papercuts on my own thank you very much.”

“Well you are going to get some scars, that’s for certain.” You begin placing fresh bandages onto her.

“Adds character. Besides I think the wolf back there is going to have a few more scars than I am.”

She shows her hand to you, curved claws coated in dried wolf blood.

“And don’t forget the bullet holes Smith.”

“Awww my little eagle eye, protecting his beloved sow from vicious outlaws with the big iron on his hip.” She gently pats your head.

“I don’t know why you’re so relaxed about this Smith, we could have died back there.”

“That doesn’t sound like the Anon I remember at the start of our hike back. Didn’t you say something about, I don’t know, knowing you’re gonna make it if a certain someone is around?”

You chuckle. “That was before my cold shower and run in with a rabid dog.”

She smiles and ruffles your hair. Finally, she’s all bandaged up.

“Hey Anon, can you point me to the little girls room?”

“The bathroom is attached to the bedroom, just over there.” You point to the short hallway that leads to your bedroom.

“Thanks Hon.”

As she disappears you gather the bloody bandages and throw them away. But then you remember something. Something on your bed. Something you left on your bed just before you left for the hike. Your, no. She can’t see that! It’s far too personal!

You fast walk to the bedroom hoping she didn’t notice its presence but there she is holding it. She has a gentle smile on her face. She notices you enter.

“It’s cute, did you name it?”

“I named him Mr. Stuffy years ago. Because he’s a stuffed teddy bear. I wasn’t very creative as a child.”

She chuckles. “And here I thought I was the only bear you had slept with.”

“Yeah, I know it’s kind of weird keeping it around.”

“I think it’s cute.” She holds the bear up to her chest.

She looks back up to you, a sly grin on her face.

“You know Anon, I can think of another bear that, pretty soon….”

Not another one of these.

“Is going to need some stuffing.”

There’s two ways that innuendo could go, but either way…

You tilt your head, and smile.

Close up on the face.

Freeze frame.

And the credits roll.

Authors Note: Congratulations! You made it to the end, thanks for reading.