Peter is the Wolf Chapter 2 Part 3

Fourteen months to write eight hundred words. 2024 has been one of my least creative years ever, but more on that in the next post...

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It’s difficult to stay scared of a gigantic wolf monster when it spends a quarter hour chasing its tail.

“Shouldn’t she be dizzy by now?” Jean asked. 

“I’m getting dizzy just watching her,” Peter said, hands in his jacket pockets, fully relaxed.

“I don’t get how she’s not bored yet.” Jean had only relaxed a little, just enough for her to begin fidgeting. “I mean, how much fun is it to go around in circles chasing something you can’t possibly catch?”

“You ever watched NASCAR?” 

“Not funny, Petey,” Jean grumbled. “What if she decides to chase- watch out!!”

Sarah had put a foot or hand wrong somehow, and her momentum sent her spinning and then tumbling past the other two werewolves, eventually rolling with a thud into the trunk of a tree. She uncurled and flopped on her back, shaking her head. After a moment she wiggled her shoulders. With a soft wurfing sound she did it again, and harder. In a few moments she was rolling and squirming around in the dirt and old leaves, making loud happy barks all the while.

“Awwww,” Peter said, watching the display (and in particular the two huge mounds on Sarah’s chest that wobbled and bobbed randomly with her writhing). “She’s just a puppy!”

“A puppy?!” Jean snapped. “She’s at least twelve feet tall!!”

“So she’s a twelve foot tall puppy!” Peter grinned back. “Big but harmless!”

“Wrong,” Jean said firmly. “She’s a twelve foot tall werewolf who doesn’t have control of her instincts or transformations. That makes her dangerous.”

“Look, we’re a mile away from anyone out here,” Peter said. “There’s nobody she can hurt except us, and if she was going to hurt us, she’d have done it by now, right?”

“Just because she’s half a ton of blonde fuzzy ADHD doesn’t mean she likes us, Peter.” Jean threw up her hands in frustration (which, Peter couldn’t help noting, showed off Jean’s also very nice, though much more proportional, breasts through her fishnet top). 

Yeah, I looked. If you’ve been straight, eighteen and male, you know you can’t not look, not even if your life depended on it. 

“Don’t worry,,” Peter said, pulling his glance up to Jean’s face, “it’s going to be cool. All we have to do is be friendly, play with her a bit, until we wear her out. Maybe we can just find a stick and play fetch with her until the sun comes-”

The loudest snuffling sound Peter had ever heard echoed from about three inches behind him. It coincided with a very strong, irregular breeze that pulled at his clothes and fur. Slowly, carefully, he turned, realizing that in the course of their conversation both he and Jean had taken their eyes off of Sarah... and the big wolf, curious at all the noise, had come over to investigate. 

Peter, without thinking, stepped backwards, leaving a frozen Jean to face the sniffing. Sarah was crouched, not quite on all fours, keeping her head well below the level of Jean’s. Her eyes, catching the moonlight for a moment and throwing it back as if the light were their own, bore a look of confusion. After a few seconds the sniffing stopped and, with slow and deliberate caution, the mega-wolf eased around Jean to sniff at Peter again.

SNIFFFFFFFFF, SNIFF SNIFF SNIFF SNIFF. SNIFFFFFFFFF, SNIFF SNIFF SNIFF.

“Um... what are you doing girl?” Peter squeaked. He took another step back, but Sarah kept pace with him, her sniffing speeding up as she bent her head lower, focusing more or less on Peter’s pants.

Peter tried to take another step back, only to find a fallen branch, but as his leg moved, Sarah lunged forwards, accidentally head-butting him in the stomach. He sprawled backwards onto the dirt, immediately propping himself on his hands and getting ready to crab-walk out of danger. “Um, okay, I can handle this,” he muttered to himself, and added in a slightly louder voice, “Good Sarah, nice Sarah, who’s a good girl?”

“You think you could patronize her just a little more, you dolt??” Jean shouted. “I told you she’s not a puppy!”

“Niiiiice Sarah...” Peter ignored Jean, keeping his full attention on the giant wolf whose muzzle kept getting closer and closer to his crotch, the deep snuffling sound speeding up as Sarah’s tail began swishing back and forth behind her.

SNIFFLE SNIFFLE SNIFFLE SNIFFLE...

 SNURF!!

Sarah’s head lifted, her jaw dropping into a big wolfy grin, showing off way too many teeth for Peter’s peace of mind. Without thinking he scrambled backwards and up to his feet, about to run for his life.

Before he could even turn around, with a bark that echoed through the trees, Sara rushed forward and wrapped her arms around him, tackling him to the ground.