Into The Woods

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The gravel crunched under the tires of the blue BMW 128 as it pulled to a stop in an empty lot.  The little car was more apt to city and highway driving than picking its way along narrow roads outside of town.  There really wasn’t much in the way of a parking lot out here, so Ambrose eventually shrugged his shoulders and pulled off to a little gravel inlet off the road that was likely there for no other reason than to use as a turn-around for people who realized they were headed in the wrong direction. 

“I guess this is as good as anywhere.”  Ambrose smiled to his slight, brunette companion in the passenger’s seat.  Ambrose and Angelina had been friends since freshman year; begrudgingly at first.  They had been partnered together in chemistry lab and both of their reputations preceded them.  Ambrose was straight-laced, blonde and clean-cut, and looked like he stepped out of an Abercrombie and Fitch catalogue.  Angelina was only in the school because of a small quirk of zoning.  She didn’t fit in with the mostly affluent students; her mother was a ‘dancer’ at a small club at the edge of town, and she had to live with that bias since the kids were old enough to know what that meant.  So she became independent, embracing counterculture, and not giving a damn what people thought about her… at least outwardly. 

And in each other Ambrose found a confidant – someone he could talk to about things that most of his friends never cared to discuss: apprehensions about his future and conforming to the pressures of what his parents wanted him to become, wanting to pursue his love of fencing, but that not being realistic, living in his older brother’s shadow whom his parents thought could do no wrong, and so forth.  And over time, Ambrose began to feel… protective of Angelina.  Despising the filthy rumors that people spread about her, not wanting to consider that any of them might be true.  He liked her, and he grew to really like her.  But his parents would never approve.  And Ambrose always imagined that when he met the right girl for him, he would just know.  He didn’t care that Angelina teased him about being unrealistic, or a prude – she didn’t understand… 

And Angelina found herself falling for her best friend.  She wouldn’t admit it – it would be too hard because he’d never actually go for a girl like her.  Not… that she’d want that.  It would be a betrayal of her identity.  He was a blonde, preppy, pretty-boy.  His family had money, and Besides, Ambrose was safe.  Someone to turn to when one of her mom’s boyfriends was over, or she was feeling rarely vulnerable.  He didn’t try to take advantage of her. 

Now they were already a few months into their senior year, and the future was looming large on the horizon.  Ambrose, at least, was doing his best to try to stall making the decision of which path to take – the one that his parents had laid out before him: medical school… or following his heart.  But in the meantime, at least, there were diversions.  Their Biology class had presented the class with a rather monumentous project: an insect collection.  It sounded simple at first – just collect some bugs.  But there was a minimum of twenty insects to find, representing at least fifteen different genuses, all of which had to be mounted, labeled with the full taxonomy, location and habitat and time of day that they were found in.  Not to mention, there was extra credit for finding species that other classmates didn’t.  But, despite the groaning that the assignment had produced, Ambrose saw it as a wonderful excuse to spend some real time with Angelina.  To head out to the woods outside of town, go camping.  It would be fun!

Ambrose shut the car door, stretched and smiled. He straightened his polo shirt and smoothed out his jeans.   It was late afternoon Friday.  They had headed out here after getting out of class, and the weather was beautiful.  The Texas heat was beginning to give way to fall, and there was no chance of rain.  He popped the trunk and pulled out the hiking backpack that he had packed with supplies and provisions, a collapsed tent, and insect collecting gear that they would need.  He couldn’t help but feel a tingle of excitement – it had been years since he had gone camping, and even the normally grounded young man had a penchant for adventure stories.

He turned to Angelina, “Ready to get going?”

Angelina was more skeptical about this camping trip than Ambrose was - she had never been camping, nor had any real desire to do so.  But she was willing to go along with it; Ambrose was enthused and she was admittedly curious to see how the boy who usually spent more time getting ready for school in the morning than most teenage girls was going to act in the 'wilderness' of east-central Texas forests.  And the more time spent around Ambrose the better - senior year was going to rush by faster than anyone ever hopes, and she knew despite her best promises to 'keep in touch' - Ambrose was most likely going to go to some fancy school in the northeast while she would try to make her way to Austin to work on her music. 

She tugged her red hoodie up as she hopped out of the car - while the weather was mild at best, Angelina had lived in Texas her whole life, so anything below 70 called for warmer clothes.  She crossed her arms and slid up  behind Ambrose, peering into the depths of the trunk and trying to access how much of the load she could get away with not carrying.  "Following you," she said with a smile, reaching in finally and hitching her own backpack over her shoulder.  

Ambrose closed the trunk with a satisfying THUNK and adjusted the straps on his own backpack, making sure the bedroll attached to the base was secure.  “Remember where we parked,” He added with a chuckle, though he had already programmed the car’s location into his smartphone… assuming they would have reception. 

He set off towards the tree line.  The woods here, especially near the road, were not very dense.  There was a lot of yaupon interspersed with the occasional oak, and a lot of shrub.  But Ambrose began to pick his way through the easiest going way.  “It’s been years since I’ve been out camping,” He started conversationally; “I honestly didn’t think I’d miss it.  But being out in nature, well, you forget sometimes being all caught up in the daily grind how pretty and soothing it can be out here.” 

Angelina followed after him, giving a backwards glance towards the car as they headed into the tree line.  "Never been," she said with a shrug.  It wasn't like she had been a girl scout or anything.  "You never struck me as the camping type," she said with a grin.  "But you know me...always up for new experiences." 

Ambrose opened and closed his mouth, cheeks coloring slightly at her implications.  He cleared his throat, redirecting the conversation, “Well, you will probably laugh, but I was in the boy scouts.  Besides, we’re not exactly going to be out that far.  Probably never more than a mile from a road, even though it might seem like you’re in the middle of nowhere once you’re into the trees.” 

Ambrose paused, looking around and gauged their location and direction.  “The way I see it… we have about two… maybe three hours till dusk since we got a late start today.  We should try to find some bugs, sorry, insects” he corrected himself with a smirk.  Their teacher had been rather explicit.  “to have some diurnal samples.  Then maybe we can catch a few after it gets dark.  Then we should have all of tomorrow, too.”

All work and no play.... she thought idly to herself as they hiked on.  She was looking passively for bugs as they walked: kicking over stones and squinting into the bushes; but she kept her hands shoved into the deep, comfortable, cottony pockets of her hoodie.  "I guess it is kind of impossible to get truly 'lost' in today's modern world," she mused, "Though, isn't that what they said in that movie?  You know with the shaky cam and the snot and the weird twig voodoo stuff?"   She chuckled, "At least there's no bears or anything right?"

All in all, the walk was surprisingly pleasant.  The trees kept the heat of the sun from them directly, but the ‘canopy’ was hardly too thick to make it difficult to see, and a cool breeze rustled the browning leaves around them.  Ambrose stopped here and there to snatch at a beetle or late-season butterfly with the net he had brought, adding them to a jar with some rubbing alcohol on a cotton swab at the bottom.  He didn’t seem bothered by the fact that Angelina mostly was just accompanying him, and pointing something out here and there and letting him snag them.  He was quick with his hands from his practice as a competitive fencer. 

Ambrose chuckled back at her.  “Well, not impossible, I suppose.  You see those shows on the Discovery channel about people getting lost all the time.  But here?”  He rolled his shoulders, “I don’t think we have too much to worry about.  They say there are bobcats around, but you never see them.  And a coyote will give you the right of way.  They’re smaller than you think.”  He paused, smirking at her.  “I hardly think that these woods are going to be the setting of another Blair Witch.”  He added mirthfully. 

"I dunno," she said with a shrug.  "I was looking online and apparently some little kids disappeared from these woods like, back in the 80s" she said, lowering her voice for effect.  "And Sean says his cousin knew of a girl who came out here with her boyfriend for some alone time you know...and all they ever found of her was her cell phone."  

Ambrose arched an eyebrow as he paused in his even trek.  “You don’t say…” He hedged, looking skeptical, though Angelina could tell that there was just the hint of … was it interest or anxiety there?  “But come now, Angelina…” He eased, logically, “You’re just pulling my leg.  Or people are trying far too hard to come up with something interesting about this place.” 

"Hey, I'm just telling you what I heard," she said, shuffling a little closer to Ambrose.  "I mean, I guess I don't know... they are probably just Urban Legends," she said, pulling out her phone from her hoodie.  She frowned at the lack of reception, holding the phone up in the air and waving it around a bit.  "Damn, I was going to show you the webpage I found about it."

A frown creased Ambrose’s face as he checked his own phone with a sigh to see similar lack of reception. “Same problem here.  I suppose we won’t be using this to find our way back to the car, but it shouldn’t be much of a surprise.  We shouldn’t need it.”  He shrugged and slipped the device back into his pocket.  “Besides, you’re probably right.  Although I have to wonder why you didn’t inform me of this before we came here.” He gave her a mock scowl.  “Perhaps I would have brought something to defend ourselves just in case.”  Ambrose was only half kidding.  He wasn’t really scared… of course not!  … but in woods far enough away from anyone to not be heard if something did go wrong, and no phone reception… he could see how people could get themselves worked up. 

"Protection?" Angelia chuckled.  "What?  If we get attacked are you going to poke him to death with your bendy sword?"

“Hey now.” Ambrose scowled, offended, “Maybe… maybe my sport fencing epee isn’t sharp, but I could have brought the prop one from ren faire..”  He realized how stupid he sounded as soon as the words came from his mouth.  Were they really attacked by someone, it likely would be by someone with a gun.  Fencing was a fantastic way to blow off excess steam and frustration, a channel for his creative energies and emotions that had little other socially acceptable recourses.  But as much as Ambrose’s romantic imagination would have loved to picture himself actually using the weapon he’d trained in for its intended purpose some day, his firmly realistic mind knew better.

"My hero," Angelina teased, grasping his elbow.  She didn't let go immediately, however, smiling up at him as they picked through the darkening woods.  

 "Sorry, I shouldn't have said anything.  I just kind of shrugged it off.. I didn't mean to make anyone nervous."

Ambrose didn’t extricate himself from her grasp, but stuck his tongue out at her playfully.  “You didn’t make me nervous.” He objected, defending his pride.   After a moment, he pinched her side lightly with a smirk, causing her to yelp.  “What?  Don’t look at me!  Must have been the Blair witches.”  He grinned.

Angelina yelped and bucked away from the pinch, but quickly recovered by punching Ambrose in the arm playfully.  "Ha. Ha. Ha,” she replied flatly, a wry smile on her face.  He wanted to play that game did he?  Well, she would have to buy her time to respond effectively.  "You'd be singing a different tune if it was," she hmphed as they continued to walk through the increasingly thickening woods.

As they continued into the thicker woods, the remaining light of the day slowly ebbed away.  The last reaches of sunlight flitted about through the leaves like clinging shadows in inverse.  The singing and chirping of songbirds gave way to crickets and frogs. Ambrose reached back into his pack and pulled out a flashlight.  “We could set up camp for the night… or if you’re not too tired… or scared of the dark,” he teased, “we could look a little longer for some nocturnal bugs.”

Angelina wasn't so much tired as just tired of walking around in the wilderness.  By this point she had her iPod earbuds in at low volume and was lugging around several jars of dying insects.  She gave as shrug at Ambrose.  "I wouldn't mind setting our stuff down," she said honestly, "but I don't want to lose our campsite."  She peered around the darkening woods, which, despite her best efforts to the contrary, were looking creepier by the minute.  There were no sounds of a highway nearby, no lights but the beam of the flashlight and the last desperate glow of the dusky sky.

The glimpses that she caught of the sky between the dense leaves of the tree showed bright stars with much more detail than she had ever seen in the city.  The whole atmosphere was different, and even if they were, as Ambrose suggested, just a mile or so from the nearest road, it certainly felt like they were deep in uncharted woods.  The modern world was so removed from nature that it often was difficult to relate to peoples’ fear of the dark or of whatever might linger in the wilderness.  But now, with the strange crunches around them in the underbrush, the waves of silence that would sometimes sweep through the night insects, and more and more their line of vision limited to the narrow beam of light, those apprehensions easily found their way to the teens’ minds.

Ambrose was too proud to admit it, however.  “That is the problem,” He responded, “If we set up camp and then wander around, it could be hard to find it by daylight.  Maybe just another hour.  We won’t go very far,”  He promised. 

"Fine," she said non-commitally with a roll of her shoulders.  She clicked onto the next playlist on her iPod and shifted the weight of her backpack on her shoulders.  Camping with Ambrose sounded a lot more fun when she thought it would be skinny dipping, campfire stories, and drinking games and not actually hiking through the woods collecting bugs and doing exactly what they were supposed to be doing.  And it wasn't even that late yet, but her legs burned a bit from walking on the uneven, unpaved forest floor and she didn't want to exhaust herself and pass out after her first beer.

It was nearing the end of the promised hour and they had collected only a few stray bugs since the sun had set: a cricket and a moth.  Finding the zippy little things in near pitch dark proved to be much easier said than done as a whole.  When they managed to catch one under the light of a flashlight, it would be gone by the time they went for it. 

Ambrose was just opening his mouth to suggest calling it a night, maybe the campfire would draw more in when a flash of light caught the edge of his vision.  At first, it was just momentary, but in the dead darkness of the woods after the sun had fully set, it was quite blatant.  It was a brief flash of light.  Then there it was again as a dragonfly sized something whizzed between two trees not twenty feet from the pair.  It was bigger than a firefly, and the light it cast was a blue-white instead of the yellow typical of the lightning bugs. 

“What’s that?” He whispered to Angelina, already readying the net. 

Angelina jumped at the buzz of light, blinking as she tried to comprehend what she saw.  "No idea…" she said, slipping behind Ambrose and the net, peering around him.  "Maybe an A," she mused with a smirk.

Ambrose cast a rueful smirk back at her.  But it was true – if they caught a unique species, it could do wonders for their grade.  Hell, if it was really unique, it could do wonders for their college applications as well. 

With renewed enthusiasm, Ambrose did his best to creep silently after the glowing insect.  He waved his flashlight around, hoping it might be drawn to the light, but it only seemed to flit further off.  Shutting it off and taking Angelina’s hand in his left, he set off after it, careful to avoid roots and vines in the dark.  Once the flashlight was off, it was just the moonlight – and the glowing bug – to light their way.  Once their eyes adjusted, just enough moonlight streamed through the branches and leaves to highlight obstacles, but beyond that, it was quite to make out much detail… not that Ambrose was giving it much pause for thought. 

Neither paid attention to just what direction they were headed as the glowing light led them further and deeper into the woods, bobbing and weaving luringly.  It never went too fast – and they never lost sight of it for more than a few moments.  And more than once, it seemed like the whisk of his net with the fencer’s deft hands would surely catch it – but at the last moment it would zip just out of reach. 

Angelina bumbled along after him, holding onto his hand, but did not have the grace or agility that the trained fencer did.  Though she had pulled the earbuds out of her ears and was just as intently following the blue light as he was now: determined as he to catch this grade-boosting addition.  

Finally, just as Ambrose was swearing under his breath with their ill luck and the bug’s craftiness, one, two, and then countless similar lights seemed to surround them.  They could hear the soft hum of swiftly beating wings – like dragonflies, buzzing all around them.  It was, in a word, breathtaking.  The whole little glade seemed to be illuminated with soft blue-white light, and for just a moment, it felt like they were suspended in time and space. 

As they entered the strange glade and the lights began to surround them, Angelina drew closer to Ambrose.  Despite having chased the one all through the woods, suddenly, at that moment, she hesitated to try and reach out and touch one.  She wrapped her arms around him as they surrounded them, not so much afraid but just seeking his grounded comfort until - some time later be it a few seconds to a few minutes, she couldn't tell - Ambrose finally tied to reach out.

Right as his wits was returning to him, and Ambrose made a move with his net, they were gone.  Far faster than the one that had led here them in the lazy, almost meandering pace, they dispersed – like a cluster of minnows that just spotted a large fish.  Just like that, they were gone, leaving them alone in the now silent glade.

“Wow…” Ambrose finally murmured.  “I’ve never seen anything like that before,” He whispered, almost reverently.  It was like coming down off of a fencing match or… he presumed a high.  And he realized just how tired he was from walking all evening and into the night. 

Feeling a bit swimmy she kept her grip on Ambrose, only barely hearing his breathy question.  "I… I have no idea…"

Ambrose let out a long exhale, shaking out his arms before resolving himself and dropping the pack he had been lugging around onto the ground with a soft thunk.  He looked disappointed, but he couldn’t say that he was truly regretful for having witnessed what he did.  He couldn’t even precisely say what it was, but it felt significant, and it was beautiful.

He hesitated.  He felt like he should say something about what they saw, “It’s… too bad we didn’t catch it… but that certainly was something to see.” 

His rational mind taking over (as always), Ambrose ran a hand through his hair and looked back to Angelina.  “This is probably a good a spot as any to set up for the night.  It’s… later than I planned on stopping, and I do apologize for that.  It’s gotten quite dark, but this little grove here is wide enough to set up the tent at least.”

"Yeah…here's fine," Angelina responded, still a bit distracted.  The clatter of the backpack on the ground seemed to finally snap her out of it.  She had no idea how to set up the tent, so she mostly just stayed out of Ambrose's way while she unpacked some of the other essentials, including the six pack of beer she had snuck into the cooler.  

She turned on one of the lanterns and walked the edge of the circle of light, kicking stones into the darkness.

The darkness beyond the small radius of light cast by the electric lantern seemed immense.  Crackling of underbrush sounded heavy in the distance, and the hum of insects and had picked up once more after the odd silence that accompanied the glowing bugs.  Occasionally, a strange call pierced the night that Angelina couldn’t quite place, but then, she had never gone camping before.  Maybe an owl?  A coyote?  It was hard to say for certain. 

Ambrose seemed distracted, focused on the job of getting the tent put together – screwing together collapsible tentpoles and keeping the structure together and not falling in on itself as he stretched the canvas over the structure.  It took him about fifteen minutes, after a few collapses and some swearing under his breath, but finally, he was dusting his hands together and standing before a dome-shaped tent that looked just barely large enough for two people. The stakes were driven down into the receptive earth, and the bedroll had been laid out inside. 

He stifled a yawn, “There we go.  It may not be the comforts of home, but I hope that it will do.”  Ambrose said with a lopsided smile.  His eye only then caught sight of the beer.  “What is that?”  He said with a tsk, and his scandalous tone was only half in jest. 

 Angelina smiled when she saw the tent finally in completion; happy to leave the edge of the unnerving darkness.  She unfurled her down sleeping bag and tossed it into the tent next to Ambrose's much high quality one.  

 "What's what?" she asked with a faux ignorance as she popped the top off one of the bottles and held it out towards him.  "Oh c'mon... this can't be all work and no play, Ambrose.  Its our senior year!"  She grabbed her own beer and took a hearty swig, as if trying to lead by example.

Ambrose took the bottle as if it might bite him, giving it a very dubious look.  “I don’t know, Angelina,” He hesitated. “I’m not 21 yet.  Neither of us are 21 yet.” He emphasized looking at her, but knew it was futile.  It’s not like it was the only time she’d had alcohol.  Hell, Ambrose likely one of the few people his age that never had gone drinking.  On the same note, he was one of the few guys that actually still believed in chivalry.  He’d had a sip here and there out of curiosity, but never liked the taste.  But more than that, he didn’t cut loose.  His upbringing had emphasized that more than anything: self moderation, self control.  Not listening to the baser impulses.  And Angelina knew that Ambrose was more than a little wound up, and had been bottling down a lot of stress for many years. Fencing was an outlet for that stress, talking to Angelina was another, but that didn’t make things easy.

 He crinkled a frown and took a seat at the mouth of the tent, still just holding the open beer bottle. 

 "So?" Angelina said, plopping down next to him at the base of the tent.  She frowned and adjusted herself, feeling all the little rocks and branches under the tent poking at her.  "Who the hell out here is going to know?"  She leveled a challenging gaze on him.  "Its just an arbitrary number," she sighed, shaking her head.  "I ain't going to make you do anything," she said a little more softly, "But you need to quit worrying so much about other people and just do what you want because you wanna."

Ambrose rolled his shoulders.  He’d heard the argument, and the irony before: old enough to vote or go to war, but not drink alcohol. “I know,” He sighed, “Maybe… forestry services…. Though… this isn’t exactly a national park,” He countered his own point.

He sloshed the bottle gently, as if swirling a glass of wine, indecisively before taking a small sip.  He made a face.  “It tastes bad and we’re not supposed to.  Remind me of the appeal?”

 Angelina just shook her head before taking another swig.  "It's refreshing, and it’s cheaper than hard liquor," she said, nudging him with her elbow.  "And breaking the rules taste good," she teased, knowing he wouldn't like that answer.  She clinked the neck of her bottle against his and tried to give him an encouraging smile.

 She pulled her knees up her chest and looked out over the blackness of the forest.  "So... now what?" she said, casting a sideways glance his way.

 “Ah,” Ambrose responded with a wry twist of his lips and took another pull.  It was… sort of refreshing after the long day’s hike, especially after the second or third pull.  He reached into his pack and pulled out a few granola bars and beef jerky, tossing a few at Angelina. 

 “Well, now we relax.  We pushed on longer than we expected, so if you’re tired, we can turn in… unless you have any other suggestions?” He asked, completely innocuously. 

 The two had shared a bed before, times when Angelina needed a protective presence after something traumatic happened, or her mother’s abusive boyfriend was over.    Only now did the thought occur to Ambrose that this would be the first time they’d be sleeping in such close proximity in a normal situation.  He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly.  “I… hope that the sleeping arrangements are all right.  We do have the separate sleeping bags that zip up.  But I just have the one tent, and even in Texas autumns, out in the middle of nowhere, it can get rather chilly at night.”  There was a flush to his cheeks. 

 Angelina stifled a yawn, "Can't just go to sleep.  That's boring," she whined.  She looked back behind her into the tent, at the two sleeping bags side by side.  Ambrose's was larger and looked far better made: thick materials and premium fleece with a built in pillow and weather-proof exterior lining.

 Angelina's was blue: the exterior looking more like a windbreaker jacket material and cheap plaid fleece on the inside stuffed with plain polyfil stuffing.  She sighed and shook her head.  "Its fine," she said to him, patting his knee.  "Not like we haven't," she stopped herself from saying slept together before.  "Well, you know.  I sneak out sometimes.  Should be good."

 “Ah, good,” Ambrose nodded, looking a little relieved and taking another sip from the beer.  He smothered a yawn in response.  Contagious things.
“Well… I am open to suggestions, although I’m afraid that I’m more tired than I expected to be this first night.  It’s probably too late tonight to go poking through the woods for firewood.  So no smores or campfire stories.” He joked.  “But more seriously, it will probably be chilly tonight.  Ah… at least we should be in close vicinity to each other in the tent.”  

"No S'mores??" she whined, only half-mockingly.  She chewed on the jerky and drank more of her beer.  Feeling the food in her stomach, the ache in her muscles, and the chill in the wind did make her start to feel very tired.  "I guess we should probably call it a night," she conceded, talking around the last of her granola bar.  She pulled her pack over and dug through it, pulling out a bottle of water, her toothbrush, and her pile of nightclothes.  

“Tomorrow will be a more relaxed pace, I promise.  We already have a fair number of bugs from the daytime, and we made it out here.  We can build a campfire tomorrow night, and we don’t have to head back till Sunday.”  He gave her leg a quick squeeze and a smile. 

Ambrose pulled off his shoes, but otherwise stayed in his clothing as he edged back into the tent and onto his bedroll.  Ambrose felt tired, but in a good way.  A long day’s hike over not quite even ground, he could just barely feel it in his legs.  Now that he had relaxed for a bit, the bit of alcohol and some food, he’d sleep well… which was good because bedrolls were notorious for not disguising any of the twigs or small rocks that he might have missed when he hurriedly made way for the tent. 

He paused, looking over and noticing now the disparity between their sleeping arrangements.  Would she be warm enough?  Would it be rude to draw attention to it or offer to swap…?  He knew that Angelina never had the same… privileges that he had.  He swallowed, “Anything else I can get you?”

 Angelina rolled her shoulders as she brushed her teeth, spitting out into the darkness of the woods and rinsing her mouth out with the bottled water.  "I just need to change," she said.  "I feel kind of gross having hiked around all day." 

 Ambrose nodded, “Of course,”  He responded, following suit and brushing his teeth with what he had available.  He couldn’t help but wonder, as he averted his eyes, what she would change into.  He scolded himself mentally for even wondering.  She was his friend.  And he wasn’t like that.  He was better than thinking thoughts like that – and she had had too many problems with assholes who were like that. 

 Angelina slipped into the tent and closed the flap loosely as she quickly changed into a pair of low-riding PJ bottoms and a very fitted tank top.  She rubbed her bare arms as she opened the flap back up after she had changed, finding herself looking forward snuggling up close to Ambrose in the cool of the night.  It wasn't too horrible in the tent, blocking the wind, but it certainly was on the chilly side, especially for Texas.  

 "This is fun," she admitted with a small smile, holding open the tent for him.

 Ambrose finally risked a glance up as she opened up the tent, blushing nearly imperceptibly in the dark as he tried not to notice just how the tank top wrapped around her pert chest, and the fact that she was no longer wearing her bra. 

“I’m glad you’re having fun,” He said softly as he dropped to his hands and knees and crawled into his sleeping roll, looking back expectantly to Angelina. 

 The lantern illuminated her slight figure, casting shadows against the canvas of the tent.  It was quiet out here now, intimate.  He closed his eyes and took a steadying breath.  He had been looking forward to this… the change of scene, sharing something with Angelina she hadn’t done before.  He… was going to miss all of this.  High School.  He was surprised how fast it went.  How much of it he had spent desperately trying to step out of his brother’s shadow.  Now Dreu was off in college, and Angelina had personally enlightened him as to just how two-faced his could-do-no-wrong older brother really was.  So Ambrose tried desperately to be the man, the gentleman that his brother pretended to be.  To prove his worth, his respectability to both himself and his parents.  But all they ever seemed to notice was when he wasn’t perfect, or they would raise their expectations even more.  Angelina had told him before that he was being unrealistic.  That when his role model was his brother, who wasn’t the gentleman he pretended to be, who obviously had an outlet for his … desires, that Ambrose was making unrealistic goals.  No one was perfect, and he was just making himself more pent up – and that was unhealthy. But he didn’t want to hear that.  He still tried.  But it was damn hard sometimes.  And moments like this starkly reminded him of that. 

 The intimate lighting and close quarters were not lost on Angelina, either, though she doubted Ambrose was taking notice.  She slipped into her own bedroll and turned to face him, resting her head on her elbow.  She smiled at him warmly, her eyes looking over his face.  Though she tried not to dwell on it, she was dreading the end of the year.  She knew he was going to leave her - go off to some fancy school somewhere very far away.  To college.  Where the girls were smart and more mature and beautiful and classy and all the things she knew he wanted and that she could never be.  High School was the great leveler - sticking everyone from every social caste and clique into the same building - forcing interactions via group projects and lab partners. 

 But that was going to end.  Angelina knew Ambrose found most high schools insufferable, but what about the grown up girls?  Angelina had been told her whole life there were girls guys wanted to marry and the girls guys wanted to party with.  Ambrose only wanted the marrying kind.  And Angelina knew he would soon forget about her.  He'd throw himself into his school work, sports - catch the attention of some high-achieving beautiful woman who would be exactly what he wanted AND would make his parents proud.

 She sighed, trying to distract herself.  Now...now would be the perfect moment to do something.  Even if she couldn't have him forever, it was so very temping to have him for now.   They were alone, the mood was right... even Ambrose would probably succumb if she was very direct.  But... but she didn't want to.

 No...she wanted him.  That was different.  But she didn't want him.  Because she knew it wouldn't last.  Ambrose would regret it in the morning, and she would lose the rest of her time with him this year.  Not to mention, part of why she loved Ambrose so much was because he wasn't the kind of guy to just have a fling with in the woods.  He was better than that.  

 Ambrose savored the moment, watching Angelina’s expression and returning her smile.  He reached out, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze before finally switching off the lantern and plunging the pair of them into darkness.  As his eyes adjusted, he listened to the gentle, even sound of her breathing, knowing she was close by his side.  He could feel her body heat through her thin sleeping bag.  Sometimes, what he didn’t say, was that even on nights that she needed his comfort, Angelina was as much a comfort to him as the other way around.  She listened to him.  And while she might sometimes tease him about his “first world problems”, he knew she was really listening, and offered him perspective that no one else did. 

Sometimes, Ambrose wished things could be simpler.  That his parents were easier to please or that there weren’t the social constraints that told him that the things he felt were wrong.  He knew plenty of people who just could ignore what society told them, but Ambrose was never one of them.  His parents made it very obvious that eyes were on him, and his actions spoke for his family.  Now he was poised to go off to college, to follow their plan for him – from what school to go to, to studying medicine, to likely not having time any more to do what he loved and abandon fencing, to being a doctor, to marrying someone from a respectable family… And Ambrose found himself terrified – both of letting them mold him into who they wanted him to be, and still only ever give him middling approval; finding him acceptable – not giving him the adoration that they seemed to shower on his brother… and yet terrified all the same of disappointing them.  He didn’t know which was worse. 

 “Good night, Angelina,” He whispered, rolling over and closing his eyes, steadying his breathing.  Thoughts like that always seemed to plague him most when the lights were out and he was getting ready to sleep.  Uncertainties, difficult decisions, trying to figure out who he was and wanted to be. 

At least, for right now, he reminded himself, there was still some time to decide.  He still had time with Angelina – his best friend… his confidant… and he loved her for that. 

 That night, as they both eventually drifted off to a sleep born of exhaustion, dreams came. 

For Angelina, perhaps it was borne of the eerie night in the woods that she had experienced for the first time, for that is where her dreams transported her.  She was alone, picking her way through a nearly tangible darkness, with unseen trees grasping and snagging at her, hampering her way.  As is the way of dreams, it was hard to see, disorienting, she could feel the situation more than see it; she knew what was going on.  She wasn’t alone.  There was someone… no… something out there in the dark, in the woods.  And then, she could hear it – a long, wavering, hungry howl in the distance.  And at the same time, she could hear footfalls behind her, crunching through the leaves.  She could hear panting, hot breath on the back of her neck that was gone when she turned to confront it.  She knew she was being followed, that it was after her.  She was terrified… and yet, at the same time, her fear was exhilarating… and as the dream progressed and became more sensation that visual, she wasn’t quite sure if she was being followed… or leading.

Ambrose’s dreams that night were powerful, freeing.  He was running away from, leaving behind his worries and cares – of others’ perceptions.  Breaking free of cloying ropes and binds, tearing out of what felt like a suffocating suit, and then he was running.  Running through woods, through trees, unhampered by branches or thorns or darkness.  He felt strong, powerful, in control.  And as he ran, feeling the wind rushing over him, feeling the earth beneath his feet, the air in his lungs, he knew that if there was something he wanted, he could get it. 

 Morning came gradually, slowly lifting the two out of the haze of sleep.  But the dreams remained at the edge of consciousness, the sensations and feelings especially strong.  Their bedrolls were warm, and felt surprisingly comfortable, no sticks or rocks seemed to poke at them from under their blankets.  The whole tent seemed aglow in orange light as the sunlight filled it. 

 Angelina shifted as she drifted into consciousness.  She yawned, the feelings and visions form the dream still lingering in her mind.  She looked around the glowing tent and smiled contently.  In the night she cuddled pretty close to Ambrose, though still separated by the sleeping bags, she had wrapped her arms around him back, nuzzling into his back as she slumbered.  "Morning," she said, trying to extract herself gently.

 Ambrose stretched, feeling amazingly well rested, taking air into his lungs and exhaling with a pleased sound.  “Good morning,” he responded, sounding like he had woken up in a good mood.  Slowly, he sat up, and rubbed at his eyes, letting them adjust to the bright morning glow.

“I can’t remember having slept so well camping before…”  Hell, Ambrose didn’t remember sleeping quite so well in general.  “I hope you slept all right.  Was you sleeping bag warm enough?” He asked, smiling down at her.

Angelina looked lovely in the morning light.  Even without having fixed her hair or applying any make up, the light and that little sleepy smile of hers, her mussed hair… it was adorable. 

 "Yeah, I feel great," she admitted, sitting up and stretching, her tank top creeping up to expose her stomach.  She sluggishly pulled over her backpack and began to poke around her hairbrush and pulled out a new shirt for exploring the woods today.  "So who's getting doughnuts and coffee?" she joked, her voice still husky from the night's rest.

 Ambrose caught a glimpse of the flash of skin of her flat stomach before looking quickly to the flap of the tent.  He chuckled, “Sorry.  No donuts or coffee… More trail mix and beef jerky, though.  I think I might have a few cereal bars in my pack.”  He shifted to his knees, reached out and unzipped the tent flap, breathing in the sweet morning air.

It was a beautiful morning.  In fact… he furrowed his brow, surprisingly beautiful.  He crawled out and stood up, taking in the grove now that it was dawn.  “Angelina, come out and see this…” he said softly.

 The morning light seemed to illuminate the grove almost as incandescent as the tent had.  The light was soft, violet, and gave the whole grove a sort of ethereal feeling, motes of pollen or dust floating in the rays.  The trees were absolutely verdant, which was… odd, considering that all the trees they had seen before dark, aside from the few stray cedars or other pine trees had turned brown and ugly in the Texas fall.  But these trees were succulent looking, a few even sported bright flowers.  Nothing like they had seen the day before.  All in all, it seemed more like spring than fall.  Everything was verdant and vibrant, the smell of flowers and sweet morning dew was on the air, and the grass beneath their feet was soft and springy.  The grove itself was a near perfect circle, in fact, Angelina noticed, along the edge of the treeline, small mushrooms grew.  It was… beautiful, inviting, and almost otherworldly, yet, nothing in particular stood out as being unnatural. 

 "Whoa..."

 While Ambrose had been digging through his pack, Angelina had slipped on her bra and shirt quickly, using her woman-powers to change shirts without totally getting undressed.  She was digging for her discarded pants when Ambrose's voice, obviously awed, caught her attention.

 She peeked out from behind him, peering around the glen.  "I had no idea we had anything like this around here."  She pulled the flap closed, gently and pushing Ambrose out of the tent.  "Here, one sec."  Not thirty seconds later she was stepping out of the tent, buttoning the fly of her pants as she looked around.  She smiled and pulled out her camera, snapping a few pictures.  "Check out these shrooms..." she said with a hint of curiosity.  

 Pausing only to slip on his shoes, Ambrose went to join Angelina by her side, looking skeptically down at the mushrooms.  “They are… interesting,” He said graciously, “I hope you’re not thinking of eating them.  If I learned anything from my time in boyscouts, it was don’t eat random mushrooms you find – there are quite a variety of poisonous species.  Some even resemble their nontoxic brethren.”  It sounded like he was reciting some cautionary warning verbatim. 

 “But… you are right about this glade.  I can’t recall ever seeing anything quite like this…”  He slipped his hands into his pockets and glanced around. 
Everything seemed incredibly bright.  It was a warm day, but pleasantly so, with a bit of a breeze stirring the air carrying with it the fragrant scent of flowers.  Birdcalls meandered through the trees, and the occasional rustling in the underbrush hinted at the presence of more wildlife.

“We could use this as a sort of base camp… explore around here… see what we can find…” He offered. 

Angelina crossed her arms.  "Maybe, but it could be fun, too," she tease, elbowing his ribs.  She wasn't going to risk it of course - she had never done mushrooms and wouldn't have a clue which kind would be dangerous or not.  "Okay, let's start the safari," she said, pulling out some jars from the tent and loading them into her smaller satchel.  

Ambrose shook his head with a rueful smile, rubbing his arm with a mock glare at Angelina.  Then, he got to work and unloaded some of the extra clothes from his backpack, leaving it in the tent with the bedroll and zipped it up.  Then, shouldering it again, and checking the compass feature on his phone, he set off with Angelina into the treeline.

 However… even as they moved away from the campsite, the verdant trees, pleasant weather and inviting atmosphere didn’t seem to change.  Nowhere was the straggly yaupon or barren oaks.  Instead, thick bushes crowned with large berries crowded the bases of immense trees thick with leaves.  Clusters of bright flowers grew in large patches, and strange scents wafted on the breeze.   There were signs of wildlife about as well.  Tracks left in patches of moist earth suggested rabbits and deer, and they spied the droppings of other animals as they picked their way among the trees.  And especially, as they kept their eyes out, examining plants and trees for signs of insects, they noticed stark differences between the woods today versus the day before.  They found plenty of insects, and while none of them looked unnatural, they seemed like different species entirely from what they had caught the day before.  Many bore brighter colors, and there seemed to be more butterflies than they remembered seeing the day before. 

 Ambrose frowned silently as he didn’t recognize many of the ones that they saw from the brief glance he had taken through the book of local insect species.  But then… he hadn’t looked at it for very long, and his main identification he was planning on doing the following week after they had taken home their specimens and mounted them. 

A crease of concern appeared between Ambrose’s eyebrows as he jarred a particularly greenish grasshopper and shook his head. 

 "What kind of The Secret Garden shit did we wander into," Angelina queried as she took the jar from Ambrose and looked closely at the dying insect.  "I mean seriously, it’s like we're in some kind of theme park."  

 She frowned as she looked around, her eyes lingering over the crayon green grass and large, brightly colored flowers.  "In all seriousness, maybe we should head back.  We're probably on someone's private property by now.  This is Texas, I don't wanna get shot."

Ambrose shook his head, his mouth a line of concern.  Angelina was absolutely right.  Something was wrong – either they had walked into someone’s highly cultivated private property last night or… or nothing.  That was it.  That was the only option.  In their haste last night to follow the strange, glowing insect, he hadn’t been paying any attention to where they had been going.  They could have very easily walked past private property signs and not even known it.

“You’re right.” He finally spoke up with a resolute nod.  “We have plenty of insects by this point, anyway, I think.  We’ll head back to camp, pack up, and relocate to closer to where the road is.”

He turned back around and started heading back.  But as they walked, Angelina, having known Ambrose for years began to pick up on signs that he was stressed.  He kept looking straight ahead, barely making eye contact with her.  His jaw set and shoulders squared.  And, as they walked a little more, Ambrose checked his phone’s compass, frowned, turned, and walked some more.  And as they walked even further, he indulged in his nervous habit of fidgeting with his ring, usually reserved for a particularly difficult fencing opponent, or right before a calculus exam.  The ring bore the symbol of his family crest, and a psychologist would likely draw the connection between Ambrose’s subconscious fear of failure being analogous to disappointing his family; the rampant wolf imprinted on the ring’s being an ever-present representation of them and their seeming constant, sneering disapproval. 

 It took a few minutes for Angelina to notice: she hadn't been keeping any track of where they were or where they were going.  She had been solely relying on her boy-scout boy-friend to be the leader.  But they hadn't gone that far from their base camp, and it seemed like it was taking a lot longer to get back.  She looked over to him, only to see his jaw set and his fingers clenched over his ring.  

 "We're... not lost are we?" she asked hesitantly.  

“No!”  He answered quickly, clipped.  He was very obviously irritated, and he didn’t look at her when he responded, just back down at his iphone, which he gave another frustrated shake.  “I… just think that this ap must be bugged.  But we haven’t gone too far.  We hadn’t been walking for more than an hour when we turned back.” 

 Angelina frowned, but she didn't say anything.  She didn't want to irritate him more, and he didn't look in the mood for teasing.  She sighed after moment and looked around determined.  "You're right, we probably just walked right past it and didn't even notice. Maybe, uh... look for more of those mushrooms or whatever," she suggested, twisting a lock of hair around her finger.

 Eventually, he clicked the screen off and shoved the device back into his pocket as he finally looked to Angelina and nodded.  “Of course.  Yes.”  He could do this – he’d gone hiking before, and this is precisely the sort of thing that he learned in scouts.  He was just relying too much on technology.

He took a breath and looked around, finally, selecting a direction, and heading that way with an air of confidence.  The landmarks were looking familiar, but as much as Ambrose hated to admit it to himself, he couldn’t quite remember if they were landmarks he had seen heading out from camp that morning, or when he was trying to find his way back more recently.  But adamantly, he continued… and they kept walking quietly.  But Ambrose’s irritation was contrasted against the almost blithe atmosphere of the woods itself.  Birds trilled in the trees, and they even caught a glimpse of an elusive rabbit, pausing to look at them before dashing off.  But never, as they wandered, did the trees look more like the Texas shrub-trees that they were accustomed to, or the weather look like the dead of fall that it should have been. 

Finally, as the sun had passed its zenith, Ambrose sat down heavily on a fallen log and started rummaging in his pack for something to eat.  He didn’t breathe a word about being lost, instead, “You’re probably hungry.”  He pulled out the water bottles and granola bars and the bag of jerky, passing some of it to Angelina.

 Angelina sat quietly next to Ambrose on the log.  "Thanks," she said, her own worry evident in her reserved demeanor.  She just knew, however, that if they kept walking they would eventually run into some sort of civilization.  There were no woods in this part of Texas that were THAT big.  

 She munched on the granola bar and surveyed the surroundings.  It was almost a shame she wasn't enjoying it more: if only they could find base camp and re-group their wits it would be better...

Ambrose polished off another one of the bars and a few pieces of jerky, taking swigs of water before folding up the trash and putting it in a different zipper pouch of his backpack. 

“We’ll be fine.”  He said, unprompted.  “We’ll just pick a direction and head straight.  And even if – if – we can’t find our campsite… it doesn’t get that cold, and there was nothing too valuable in the tent.”  Ambrose was at least as much embarrassed as he was worried.  It was his responsibility to lead the way, keep them on their way.  Angelina trusted him, and he failed that.  It would figure.  “When we parked, we headed east into the woods.  So we’ll head West.”  

He dusted off his hands and looked back to her.  “You ready to push on?” 

Angelina forced and encouraging smile and stoop up.  "Ready," she said, looking to the sky to see if she could determine which way was West.  She shrugged and just followed Ambrose's lead, staying close on his heels as they ventured back into the woods.

Ambrose gave her a small smile as his gaze also traveled upwards to gauge the direction – at this point, he trusted that more than his phone. 
He shouldered his backpack again and headed off, his confidence once again bolstered.  Ambrose frequently checked the sun to make sure he was heading true West.  At first, his pace was more relaxed, and he looked around at the undeniably beautiful scenery.  But as they continued, one hour… two… three… nearly four… and the climate and vegetation didn’t change, that little voice of worry nagged at him once more.  There was no sign of a road, none of the sorts of trees they saw before dark the day before, and no campsite.  He was baffled.  Surely, he couldn’t be this bad at orienteering, but he had no other explanation. 

When they reached the edge of a relatively small, and absolutely crystal clear lake, Ambrose stopped.  The sky was beginning to turn a rosy violet, hinting at the encroaching evening, he finally said the words.  “Okay.  We’re lost.”  He said it like it physically hurt him to do so. 

Angelina had grown very quiet, not even listening to her iPod anymore as they tracked through the woods.  She felt a pit growing in the bottom of her stomach when Ambrose finally admitted what they both already knew.  She hated feeling like this.  Hated it.  She took a shuddering breath, needing something to distract her from the panic welling up inside her.

She looked over to the lake and the beautiful clear water.  "Fuck it," she said as she pulled her shirt up and off over her head, tossing it at Ambrose.  "If we're stuck out here, at least we have water, right?" she said with a nervous laugh.  Her hands went to her pants as she kicked off her shoes.  

Ambrose frowned, feeling guilty.  Angelina was just as upset as he was, and it wasn’t her fault.  But when she started to pull her shirt off, he averted his eyes quickly, blushing.  “I… well… uhm…” he spluttered.  He wanted to watch… she didn’t seem to care… but no.

He was also feeling the discomfort of having worn the same set of clothes two days in a row… the same clothes he slept in, without having showered.  He scratched at his arms, wanting to join her. 

“Yes… having a source of water is very important.”  He answered mechanically, staring down at his shoes.  He had only brought a few days worth of water, he realized. 

Angelina stripped, flinging her bra at his averted head like a slingshot.  Despite her brash attitude, she had steady blush of her own on her cheeks and flushing over her chest.  "I feel gross.  Let's go swimming," she said, tip-toeing to the water.  She looked around the edges for a moment, worried about snakes or other creepy crawlies... but she eventually stepped in, getting down to her waist with a giggle before turning back to look towards Ambrose. 

Ambrose fumbled with the bra slung at his head, juggling it like a hot potato before gingerly depositing it on a low-hanging branch.  “Angelina, I… I…”  He stammered, glancing only quickly over to her slender back as she stepped into the water.  She was nude, though the waterline had swallowed her up to the waist, and Ambrose swallowed hard.  He felt grungy, smelly, and was acutely aware of this fact even more now that she had brought it up.  If they lay down beside each other that night, her clean, him coated with the grime of two days… well, that would hardly be gentlemanly either, he justified to himself. 

But yet, as fun and flirty as Angelina could be, he didn’t expect this.  Maybe he should have, or maybe he just secretly wanted it.  They both felt like they were on a ticking timer to the end of the year.  So slowly, Ambrose stood up and pulled his shirt off over his head, laying it neatly over his backpack before removing his hiking boots and trousers. 

Down to his boxer-briefs, he slowly, keeping his head down, walked to the water’s edge and stepped in. 

The water was the perfect temperature: just cool enough to be a relief of the sweat and heat of the day without being too cold to be uncomfortable.   It seemed to effortlessly and immediately take the grungy, dirty, grimy feeling away from the pair where it touched them, refreshing and reinvigorating.  It was hard to stay frustrated and nervous about being lost in the woods the more they ventured deeper into the pond. 

“The water… does feel nice.”  Ambrose consented as he walked further in so that the water lapped around his thighs, still averting his eyes.

Angelina smiled seeing him relax just a tiny bit.  She wasn't surprised, but a bit disappointed, that he stayed in his skivvies as he made his way into the water.

As for the water - Angelina was amazed at how cool and refreshing it was.  It felt clean - not chemically like a pool or even grimy like a lake should be.  She loved the feel of it on her skin as she took a deep breath and plunged under the waterline for a moment, wetting her hair.  She came back up a moment later, flipping her hair over her head and running her fingers through it - scratching away at the sweat and grime.  

As a bit of water trickled between Angelina’s lips, it tasted precisely as she might have expected it to based on how refreshing it felt.  It was absolutely pure and almost sweet.  There was no fluoride mixed in or strange sediments that were found in tap water, nor was it nearly the strange mix of nothingness and plastic that bottled water carried.  It was water as it was meant to be – refreshing, and absolutely delicious.  It tasted good and made her feel good. 

Angelina stepped closer to Ambrose, chuckling nervously as she splashed at him.  

Ambrose was starting to rub handfuls of water over his arms and chest as he was venturing deeper when Angelina surprised him with the splash.  He looked up instinctively, his face turning bright red as he realized he looked right up and at her topless figure.  And instantaneously, before he could look away, he appreciated that even without the support of her clothing, she was perky, tight, slender.  “Angelina!”  He gasped, but there was the hint of a smile on his lips as the stress was washing off of him.  And then, the unthinkable for the prudish Ambrose: he smiled ruefully and splashed back. 

Angelina subconsciously craved this release - to laugh, to play... to put the stress away and ignore the panic that was hedging.  She laughed as he splashed her back, feeling good to have fun for the first time that very long day.  She took a deep breath and dived under the water, trying her best to "sneak" up behind Ambrose - though the crystal water made it difficult.

Ambrose grinned playfully as he watched her form moving beneath the surface of the water, rotating in place.  While the line of her figure was distorted by the rippling pool, she was easy to follow, and he eyed her like a predator anticipating the pounce, ready to catch her when she sprung up at him. 

She reached out under the water and tugged playfully at his underwear, but not hard enough to actually remove them, but to make a point.  She came up for air not too far away from him, laughing breathily between trying to inhale, Ambrose catching the line of water from her hair and she flipped it back. Angelina’s lips tingled like they’d been kissed from where the water washed over them.  Her body felt clean, warm and supple. 

Ambrose let loose a startled mix between a shout and a laugh as Angelina made her point, a hand going protectively to his underwear as she surfaced.  And this time, Ambrose didn’t look away.  He blushed, but was caught up, watching her brown hair catch the fading light as it arced over her shoulders. 

“Hey now, play fair.”  He called back to her, sinking down to his knees so that the water covered his shoulders.  It was like the whole lake was caressin him, carrying away some of his stress and restraint.  Despite the circumstances, he felt more relaxed than he could remember, letting loose and releasing some of the pent up stress that he eternally kept a tight seal on.  For the years he’d been in high school, and the bragging stories he’d heard in the locker room that he had never dared to partake, he was beginning to see some of the appeal.  He’d never gone skinny dipping before, especially not with someone else.  He’d never done the crazy parties or strip poker or all the other risqué games that seemed to pepper most guys’ high school experiences.  Maybe… he could live a little, and not have it change him too much. 

"I was trying to play fair..." she said with a smirk, her eyes darting town to where his body disappeared into the waterline.  She didn't pull away from his wandering eyes, but she stayed a respectable (or teasing) distance away from him - not because she was afraid he would do anything inappropriate, but more concerned that if they touched it might bust a hole in this emotional and physical dam of sexual tension that was building up around them.  

“By whose rules?” He countered with a smirk. 

How much, Ambrose wondered to himself, was the ‘friends zone’ that he had found himself in with Angelina was him just trying to resist the temptation to take that next step.  For fear of compromising his own rigid code or disappointing his parents.  But it was incredibly difficult to pretend that she was anything but a beautiful young woman who was interested in him here and now.  Unless he was just so non-threatening that she felt comfortable in her nakedness… But even Ambrose had a hard time of believing that line right then.  She was stunning.  The way the velvety violet light played over her in the fading day – reflecting off of the water and playing over her wet skin.  Ambrose sunk a little lower into the water, hoping that with some added depth, the crystal clear water would obscure what he was certain his boxer briefs weren’t.

Finally, as if snapping out of a dream, Ambrose cleared his throat, splashed some more water in her direction, and dove completely under the water, pushing off from the bottom to zip like a torpedo through the water.  He was trying to clear his head, hoping that movement and swimming might help him return to his normal, rational thoughts.  But it felt so nice completely submerged, he could feel the subtle currents playing along his body, ruffling his hair.  The thoughts of moving through silken bedsheets rather than water entered his mind before he finally broke the surface a distance from Angelina, filling his lungs again. 

He was clean now.  At least his body was.  “We should start setting up for the night!”  He called back to her.

Angelina was beginning to relax, leaning back in the water and began to float as she looked up at the darkening sky, a stunning display of stars beginning to emerge through the breathtaking hues of color dusk was providing.  She let herself get lost, feeling the water lift her gently up and down, caressing her.  It felt, well, very similar to getting high.  A pleasant, colorful, mellow high.  

Ambrose's voice eventually brought her back to reality.  He was right...they had no lamp so they needed to get settled in before it got too dark to see.  "Coming," she said lazily, swimming back over towards him and the slope of the lake's bank.  She crawled out of the water and began to wring out her hair, smiling bashfully back over at Ambrose as she sat on a nearby rock, the water no longer provided its flimsy illusion of modesty.  

Ambrose strode easily out of the lake, breathing in the evening air.  He had never been high before, but the dusk at the lake’s edge was absolutely stunning.  The opening of the trees revealed a dazzling array of stars.  He could see so many more than he could in the city, and as the lake itself settled down, they were mirrored almost perfectly in its glasslike sheen.  The colors of the sunset were so incredibly vivid, nearly a rainbow of hues as the calls of the wildlife began to change as the night creatures took over the shift. 

And just as radiant as the view was Angelina, sitting on the rock and wringing out her hair like some fairy tale mermaid.  He ran his fingers through his own, much shorter hair, grabbing a towel from his pack and patting himself over briefly before passing it to Angelina.  “I’ll gather some wood from around the lake.  I won’t leave your sight.” He promised, knowing how easy it could be to get lost in these woods first hand. 

Angelina snickered as Ambrose promised not to let her leave his sight.  I bet, she thought to herself.  

He walked the perimeter, picking up fallen branches – enough to build a fire with, and built a cone with some of the wood and moss as kindling, surrounding it with small rocks.  Then he dipped his shirt and pants in the lake, squeezing them out and tossing them over a branch.  Hopefully they’d be dry by morning.

Angelina followed suit with Ambrose about wetting her clothes and hanging them out to dry on a branch: though she did pull on her panties while he was out gathering kindling.  

He sat down, pulled out his lighter, and within a few minutes had the fire started, just as the last rays of sunlight was dropping beneath the horizon.

“I can think of worse places to be stuck, at least.” Ambrose commented softly.

"Yeah, that's true," she said, sitting next to Ambrose, tauntingly close.  "I just hope it doesn't get as cold."  She pulled her knees to her chest and enjoyed the heat of the fore against her bare skin.

“I hope so too.  At least we have the fire tonight.  The wood I found should be able to keep it going for at least a while.”  A pregnant pause hung in the air.  “We might have to … get closer tonight to stay warm regardless.” He risked a bashful glance up at her again, watching the flickering firelight play over her breasts. 

He reached into his backpack and pulled out the food he’d brought, handing Angelina some mixed nuts and dried fruit, frowning briefly as he looked at the supply.  He’d only planned on two more ‘meals’. 

Angelina just smiled to him, but didn't protest to his suggestion.  She let her fingers linger over his for just a second longer than normal as he passed her her 'dinner.'

Eating junk food for several days on end, however, didn't phase Angelina much.  She didn't exactly have the most attentive mother, and she had to get her dinner from the gas station more than once before she was old enough to use the stove.  

"Too bad we didn't bring your S'mores..." she said wistfully.  

Angelina’s touch was electric, and he looked up to her, holding her eyes for a moment before engrossing himself in opening his meal.  “Actually, I didn’t leave food in the tent,”  He smiled, “They say it’s a bad idea.  Invites unwanted attention from wildlife.  I was saving that for dessert,” He winked.  But, he regretfully thought about the changes of clothes and other things he’d left behind in the tent. 

"Perfect," she purred, popping some more trail mix between her lips.  "Sounds like we're having a real camping trip finally," she mused, despite being lost.  "So where in the hell do you think we are?"

Chuckling, Ambrose responded, “Yeah… Sorry I was so… work-minded yesterday.  Probably serves me right that I lost our way.”  He sighed.  “And… I mean, we have to just be in the stretch of woods out of town.” Right? 

He pulled out his phone again, trying and failing again to get a signal.  “But… specifically where we are.  I can’t say.” 

Finally, he put it up and pulled out the crackers, chocolate bar, and package of marshmallows.  There were ample branches thanks to the trees and he snapped off a pair, handing one to her, putting on a genial smile.

Angelina shrugged.  "It's kind of a nice diversion, as long as we find a road soon," she admitted, taking the ingredients from Ambrose.  "So I've only had the prepacked ones of these before.  You roast the marshmallow first, yes?"

Ambrose shook his head with a ‘tsk.  “Those are not the real thing.”  He chided with a smile. 

He nodded, lancing one of the marshmallows and leading by example.  “Yes, precisely.  You toast the marshmallow, and when it’s brown on the outside - try not to catch it on fire! – you place it on a graham cracker, put a piece of chocolate on top, hopefully the hot marshmallow well make that a little melty, and then a top piece of graham cracker..”  He illustrated, and then handed it to Angelina for the first sampling. 

Angelina took a bite and grinned.  "Wow, yeah, those taste anything like the prepackaged ones."  She skewered a marshmallow of her own, held it over the fire, frowning as it promptly caught on fire.   "Goddammit," she growled, pulling it back and blowing it out.  

She handed Ambrose's back and finished assembling her own, happily munching.  As she ate, a dollop of melted marshmallow and chocolate squished out, falling onto her chest, right at the curve of her breast.  Angelina hissed at the initial burn - then caught Ambrose's eyes and broke into a gigglefit.  

Ambrose laughed, losing himself in the moment, and unable to help but let his eyes linger on where the splotch of gooey white that fell onto Angelina’s chest.  He cleared his throat, coughing a few times, a blush rising again to his cheeks, betraying the place that his mind went.

He almost offered to get it for her.  Almost. 

“It’s all right.  They’re messy.  And the marshmallows catch fire easily.  You just have to hold them a little further from the fire, and be patient.” He winked.  He took a bite of his own, making a murmur of delight.  It had been years since he’d had a real s’more.  It had been a long time since he unwound even a bit.  At the same time, this was a fond childhood memory, and indulgence and something frivolous, while indulging in something forbidden, sharing the campfire with Angelina, both nearly nude. 

Angelina scooped the stray spill with her finger and plopped it into her mouth with a playful waggle of her eyebrows.  The next few s'mores went a bit better, eating several until her stomach strained in protest.  She washed her hands in the lake and then came back to sit very close to Ambrose as the night's pleasant coolness settled over them.  

"Look at the stars out here," she breathed, looking up over the lake.  "I almost don't want to go back."

“Don’t say that,” Ambrose said softly, glancing over to Angelina before tossing another branch onto the fire.  “Its undoubtedly beautiful out here…” He continued, glancing up at the stars, which were out in full now, shimmering above them and mirrored in the water.  “But you can’t just run away from life.”

"Would be nice, though, eh?" she said, looking at him out of the corner of her eye.  She shrugged.  "Anyway, I wasn't being serious.  It's just really beautiful out here."

“I know,” He responded, but there was a hesitance to his voice.  “It can be easy to forget how big the world really is.  How much more there is to school and work…”  He took in a lungfull of the night air, tinged with just a hint of the aroma of crispy marshmallows and wood smoke. 

“And I have to admit… the swim was fun… I needed that,” He said with another sidelong glance to Angelina.

"You need a lot of things, Ambrose," she said, looking into the fire.  "But I'm glad you had fun.  You need more fun in your life.  Especially before you don't have any free time left for the things you love."  

Ambrose elbowed her softly at her insinuation, but as she continued to speak, his face took on a more somber expression, the corners of his mouth pulling back and forming a crease in his face.  He knew he wouldn’t have time to continue fencing if he went into medical school like his parents wanted him to.  Not to mention all the other things he already didn’t make time for.  “Maybe you’re right.”  He said begrudgingly, but he still hadn’t decided.  The weight of the future felt heavier and heavier every day.

“But for tonight, we should probably turn in… I’ve got another towel I can lay out… and we can use our packs as pillows.” He was deflecting, stalling the thoughts again.  But he didn’t have to decide anything tonight.  And he was looking forward to snuggling next to Angelina by the campfire. 

Angelina nodded as she stifled a yawn.  She waited patiently for Ambrose to lay out the meager towel and set up the packs as impromptu pillows.  She waited for Ambrose to lay down first and get settled, before sliding over to him and laying next to him.  She gave him a bashful smile and she moved closer, pressing her back against his bare chest, using him for warmth.

 The heady sensations of near-intoxication as they relaxed in the lake, as they let down their guard and laughed while they ate gooey treats returned as they began to drift off to sleep.  Their bodies relaxed and the sensation of literally falling into a blanket of darkness met them that night as sleep took hold of them and pulled their consciousnesses down deep, divorcing them entirely from their waking selves and rational minds.  The dreams that washed over the pair seemed to feed and build off of the palpable sexual tension that clung to the duo as they lay down to rest that night. 

The dreams seemed to pick up where the dreams the previous night left off…

Angelina was once more walking through the darkened woods, the strong presence of another nearby, following her.  But this time, she was certain she was the one leading the way.  The leaves crunched behind her, echoing her soft footfalls.  She could hear a growling, heavy breathing, feel his presence behind her.  And it excited her.  She wanted him to catch her.  To take her.  To claim her.  A powerful, booming roar of a howl split the night, sending chills down her spine, and she broke into a run.  Not from fear. 
And the chase was on.
A galumphing gait crashed behind her, fearsome growls emanated from the beast’s throat as it easily gained on her.  And then – she knew it before it happened – a spring and a collision of bodies as they tumbled to the ground. 

She was looking up at the beast now – a long muzzle full of sharp teeth, amber eyes alight with flame, and a massive weight upon her.  She could sense its hunger.  For her.  And a moment later, she was roughly rolled over as its jaws closed around her neck: holding her fast, but not breaking the skin.  What followed, though, was a blossom of pain and pleasure as he took her, claimed her.  Driving a long, hard, distinctly pointed cock into her.

And in the dream, Angelina loved it.

For Ambrose, his dream opened with the freeing sensation of running through the woods once more – away from responsibilities or expectations.  Just him and the woods.  It took him some time to realize, as he tore through the trees that seemed incredibly real to him, that he was running on all fours.  But… it did not seem strange to him in the dream.  It seemed… right.  Of course he was – it was faster... and he felt fast.  Strong.  Hungry.

His prey was in these woods, pulling him to her like a dog on a leash.  It was irresistible… not that he wanted to resist.  Every fiber of his being needed it.  Hungered for it.  His ears pricked and he let loose a booming howl as he heard it begin to run.  It was irresistible now.  He gave chase, knowing that he could overtake his prey.  And when he caught a glimpse of tantalizing red, he pounced.

And suddenly, he realized that he wasn’t hungry for food, but something quite different, as he looked down at the girl.  He knew her, but in the dream just how he knew her was unclear.  He just knew he had to have her.  And he could smell how she needed him.  An overpowering NEED filled him, and in this state, in this dream – powerful, bestial, free, he did not hesitate.  He took. 

For the two of them, what followed was powerful, passionate fucking – not the tasteful lovemaking that Ambrose often imagined, or even the raw hormone-driven sex that Angelina had engaged in before.  The dream was incredibly vivid, and only when the two were both nearing climax in the dream did Ambrose and Angelina awake with a start.

The dream remained vividly in both their minds, and their bodies ached with unfulfilled desire.  However, the morning light that now touched the lake and stained the sky a soft peach brought with it realizations of just what they were doing… and what they were doing it with or as.  And while Ambrose could remember now the face of the girl in the dream was unmistakably his friend, Angelina, Angelina’s chimerical partner was unrecognizable as any other than the monstrous wolf he appeared to be. 

Ambrose woke with a gasp, horrified and humiliated with the thoughts that his subconscious had brought to him, and exceedingly uncomfortable with the very noticeable morning companion that accompanied it.  How he had acted, so very literally bestial… so much the antithesis to the gentleman he strove to be.  He immediately felt guilty, wondering if the improper thoughts he’d had the night before – watching Angelina bathe, sitting and eating with her nearly nude had spawned this dark fantasy.  He rubbed at his temples with a groan, shifting uncomfortably and sincerely hoping that Angelina didn’t feel the distinctive poking in her back.   

Angelina's eyes shot open with a small gasp.  The morning light pierced her vision and she closed her eyes, groaning softly as her body pulsed with the frustrating sense of unfulfillment.  Acting without thinking, her hand wandered down her body, resting on her lower stomach, her fingers sliding under the elastic of her panties before her mind finally caught up to where she was.  Her eyes snapped open again and she awoke with a start, sitting up and looking over to Ambrose.

She forced an awkward smile, though she felt for the time very...naked.  In a sudden burst of modesty, she crossed her arms and forced a nervous giggle as she looked over Ambrose, who looked just as embarrassed and uncomfortable as she did.  Her cheeks burned red: has she been moaning or something in her sleep?  He looked like she had just caught him with his hand in the cookie jar.  

She gave a nod to him and slid over to where their clothes were drying and hastily pulled on her damp shirt. 

  

Ambrose squirmed, thinking that Angelna’s sudden movement to sit up and grab her clothing was in response to what she felt pressed against her back, and his cheeks burned an even deeper red.  Ambrose quickly followed suit, grabbing his pants and keeping his back turned to Angelina for a moment as his hands fumbled with the zipper, trying to not catch himself in it.  He closed his eyes and steadied his breathing, falling into a not-uncommon breathing exercise for the bottled-up teen.  He refocused his thoughts - away from the savage dream.  Away from the beautiful woman who had been as naked as he just a few moments ago.  At least his clothing felt dryer after having hung near the fire all night.  But still moist enough to cling a little more obviously.

A few more breaths as he put on his shirt, standing up, moving around, and the light of day was helping.  He was coming to his senses and the dream was feeling more like the dream that it was rather than something he had just been actually doing a few moments ago. 

He ran his hands through his hair, adjusting his pants, and hoping that the still present bulge in his pants wasn’t too obvious, and finally cleared his throat.

“I… ah… good morning,” He spluttered awkwardly. 

 "Good morning," she replied, clearing her throat and pulling on her pants.  "So... I guess we go back got walking?" she asked in an obvious attempt to change the subject and ignore the elephant in the room.  She looked out over the lake and the amazing colors in the morning and sky and felt just a tinge of regret.  Monday classes were going to suck after an exertion like this.  Angelina had never had any real vacations - not like the other kids.  No trips to Europe or even Disneyland or the beach.  She got invited to a birthday party at Six Flags once when she was in fourth grade.

 The 'real world' - a teenager's world of algebra and biology 2 and Homecoming and football - just seemed so dull and unimportant compared to this place.

Ambrose nodded, thankful for the aversion of the subject.  He rarely saw Angelina with red-tinged cheeks.  They both had been caught up the day before in ‘play’ and the welcoming, relaxed environment.  But the revealing light of day left him feeling more than a little embarrassed, but… he was still having a hard time regretting anything that he did.  He took one more deep breath before nodding to Angelina, “Yes,”  he replied, picking up his pack.  “It’s… Sunday now.  We need to find our way back or else people are going to begin to worry.”  He added, with a touch of concern.  But if they weren’t back… people would look for them.  Surely they couldn’t be permanently lost just outside of town in America. 

But Ambrose already wondered how the experience might color his experience back at school.  It would be a story to tell at least, being actually lost in the woods.  Of course, that would probably make him sound incompetent.  But it was so beautiful here. And he’d already done things he’d only imagined before.

 "Certainly we can't be that lost," she said, looking around.  "Okay, well... let's head out then," she nodded with a sense of determination.  She looked pointedly at Ambrose, waiting on him to lead the way.

 Ambrose nodded, checking the sun, and heading off with a puff of breath.  He continued West, sure that if they continued in the same direction, eventually they’d reach the edge of the woods.  That and they wouldn’t be walking with the sun in their eyes.

 He took Angelina around the lake, not able to help but pause for a moment, marveling at the splash of sunrise over the still water, only broken occasionally by a jumping frog.  A few bright dragonflies buzzed around the lake’s surface, and bird calls heralding the new day carried through the trees. 

Ambrose paused once, before leaving the lake and heading back into the woods, filling one of his emptied water bottles in the clear water and replacing it in his pack.  “Well, you can now say you’ve spent time in the woods, living off of the land for a time,” Ambrose commented.  The diversion and sense of purpose was helping his issue as well.  He just needed to not think about it, or his bizarre dream. 

 "We we haven't really lived off the land," she pointed out.  "You wouldn't even let me eat the mushrooms," she teased.  She rubbed her stomach, "Wouldn't complain if we happened upon a hamburger tree," she admitted.  

Ambrose laughed as they pushed back into the treeline, continuing their Westward trek.  “All right, touche’.  But no, I wouldn’t touch the mushrooms.  However,” He paused, looking at some of the berry-laden bushes that they passed.  They’d been seeing them throughout their trip, at least since the change of scenery.  They were cluster-berries, like dewberries or blackberries, and a very rich, black-purple.  “Those are probably edible.  You don’t want to eat the small red berries that just have the single spherical berry, but I think that all berries that look like that are all right to eat.” 

“And if push comes to shove, there have been lots of signs of animals.  I’ve seen rabbit scat and tracks around.  We’d be fine in a place like this.”  Ambrose hated to think about it, but as they walked, having spent more than a day there already, this rich scenery was almost becoming comfortable.  He knew that the environment should be changing if they were getting closer to home, but the lush, rich woods were becoming almost familiar.

 Angelina stopped to pull a few of the berries off the tree.  She sniffed them and rolled them around in her hand, wondering if it was worth the risk.  She knew nothing about wild fruit (she barely ate fruit as it was) but Ambrose seemed to know what he was talking about at least.

 At the mention of the animals she scoffed.  "If, and that's a big if, how do you expect to, you know... hunt?  With your bare hands?"

  She finally popped a berry into her mouth.  

 The berry absolutely exploded with flavor in her mouth, filling it with juicy sweetness.  It was almost like a pre-sweetened pie filling it was so sweet and sticky. Like the water that she had bathed in, she almost found herself lost in the flavor, filling her with a sense of comfort and nearly a pleasant haze. 

“Well,” Ambrose continued as she plucked some berries, oblivious to her experience, “I could probably fashion together a basic snare between what I have and some branches and sticks and the like.  We should probably save some of our trail mix for squirrel or rabbit bait, just in case,”  He added with another tinge of worry.  The thought of rationing food made things seem very real to him. 

“Barring that, I do have a small knife.  I could lash it to a stick and try to sneak up on something.  Or throw it like a spear…  But…” He winced, “I’ve never actually done that before.” 

Angelina was quiet for a moment as she savored the sweet berry, closing her eyes and smiled.  It took a second for her to even register Ambrose was talking.  "Huh?"  She blinked.  "Really?  I  mean, you know, I don't think it’s as easy as you're making it sound.  But it doesn't matter, hopefully it won’t come to that - taste these berries they're amazing!"

“Probably not,” Ambrose conceded reluctantly. “And hopefully it won’t come to that at all.  But I’d be willing to give it a go… I am just saying.”

He lifted a brow and pursed his lips.  He hadn’t had breakfast yet, and fruit always made a fantastic start to the day.  He knelt down and plucked a handful of berries, careful to avoid a few thorns in the bushes, and popped one into his mouth.  He made a surprised humming sound, that transitioned to a distinctly impressed, enjoying murmur as he savored the fresh, moist, heady flavor of the berry.  “You’re right… this is amazing,” He gushed as he popped in a second one, not caring so much that he was talking with food in his mouth. 

It was the night’s swim all over again.  And despite being utterly lost, he was feeling a little more confident than he probably should have.  As his head was clearing after getting mostly past his frustrating awakening, he was proud of himself for keeping them safe, making fire and finding water the day before.  And now, food!  He was certain, if it came to it, he could trap or kill a small animal.  He could find the way. 

He pulled out an empty plastic bag that had once held beef jerky – the boyscout in him kept him from using the bag as litter, and had thought it might come in useful – and proceeded to fill it up with the berries. 

 "It might be hilarious to see," she murmured with a good humored smile as they carried on.  She munched on the berries and stayed close to Ambrose, and one point brushing the back of her hand against his, invitingly.  

 Ambrose stuck his tongue out and elbowed her playfully in the side.  “Hilarious,” He responded with mock-hurt.  He gathered a fair supply of berries, and ate alongside her as they continued to walk, finding himself in amazingly good spirits. The weather, again, was pleasant: warm with just a hint of a breeze.  Plenty of insects (that Ambrose ignored at this point, no longer concerned with the school collection that brought them there), myriad bright flowers, and even the occasional glimpse of a rabbit or squirrel provided engaging scenery as they walked. 

The walk was easy-going paced.  Ambrose seemed to be taking his time as he ate through his berry breakfast, and even joined Angelina’s hand as it brushed his, giving her a shy smile as they continued to stroll. 

And just as the sun was reaching its peak, they suddenly found themselves breaking the treeline and onto an unmistakable path.  It was about five feet wide, and just dirt, but it clearly snaked through the woods in a vaguely NE/SW direction. 

Ambrose’s eyes widened, followed by a smile.  “Where there is a path… there are people!”  He exclaimed.

 "Oh finally," Angelia breathed.  Why she had also been enjoying her hand-in-hand walk with Ambrose though the woods, it was relieving to see signs of life.  She squeezed Ambrose's hand and eagerly starting down the path.

 Ambrose picked the Southwest direction, as it was closer to the way that they were heading, and held Angelina’s hand firmly as he stepped onto the trail.  She could feel his heartbeat through his palm, see the smile on his face as he walked.  And while it was not paved, or even covered in gravel, the path was unmistakable.  It was no deer path, it was far too wide, and seemed to be worn down as if often traveled.  It winded, around large trees, and they even came to a small wooden footbridge where the path crossed over a burbling stream. 

As they approached, they caught a glimpse of a doe up the river, who lifted her head, ears tilting forward as she heard their footfalls approaching before quickly turning tail and dashing back off into the woods.

Ambrose stood straighter as he caught sight of her, eyes drawn to the fleeting creature. His heartbeat picking up once again, just momentarily. 

“Did you see that?” He whispered with a smile.

 Angelina nodded, smiling.  The woods, the brook, the deer... so idyllic it should have been creepy.  But there, in the moment, with Ambrose... it was the most alive and happy Angelina could remember being in a long time.

 They continued, across the bridge and further down the path.  They passed more wildflowers, growing especially plentiful where they could get the sunlight near the path where there was less treecover.  But they spotted inviting ponds and tempting clearings just off the path more than once. 

However, as they walked and time passed, an hour, two, and it grew closer to dusk, the path had still not reached its destination.  Nor did the terrain become any more recognizable or any closer to the Texas shrub forests. 

“How big is this… lush forest,” Ambrose wondered aloud, not knowing how else to describe it or understanding how it was still going.  “I mean… it’s Sunday evening.  If we don’t find their our back soon, we’ll officially be missing… We’ll miss school.” The realization was somewhat sobering. 

 "Oh no, not school!" Angelina mocked with fake terror.  She rolled her eyes.  "I mean, that's kind of good, right?  It will send people out looking for us.  Right"?

 “Hey, come now.”  Ambrose grumbled defensively.  “But yes, you’re absolutely right about people looking for us.  And eventually, someone will find us or we’ll find our way out.”

They continued to walk as the sunlight faded.  However, while the evening brought with it another spectacular sunset, it gave way to a more unsettling evening than the night before.  It grew dark quickly, and there was more of a chill on the air.  The rustling in the underbrush from unknown sources brought with it unease.  Ambrose pulled out his flashlight, keeping it on the path so they didn’t accidentally stray.  He was hesitant to stop just yet.  They had found a path, after all.  It had to go somewhere. 

But the night seemed almost aware of them, pressing in at them, stealing their good moods.  And in the distance, Ambrose and Angelina could almost swear they heard a howl.

Ambrose paused, looking back with a frown, casting his light ineffectively around them.  “Just the wind…” he murmured. 

 Angelina's worry began to creep back into her consciousness as the night settled in.  Even the expansive blanket of stars over the sky couldn't shake an eerie feeling dread that was coming over her.  She kept a hold of Ambrose's hand and when she heard a mournful howl in the distance, she squeezed his arm: giving away any attempt to look strong or unaffected.  

 "We... we don't have wolves in Texas… right?"

 “No.”  Ambrose answered quickly.  “There are coyotes, though.  They’re mostly harmless.”  Ambrose didn’t want to say that if that wasn’t the wind, then that didn’t sound anything like a yapping, yodeling coyote howl.  It had to be the wind.  Or… someone’s exotic pet.

He squeezed her hand, and found himself walking closer to her side, eyes daring around the path. 

Just as he was begrudgingly thinking about stopping for the night… his flashlight revealed a small offshoot to the trail, which led to a tiny cottage. 

He hated to think it, but it looked just like something out of a fairy tale… or a Kinkade painting.  While there were no lights that shone through the windows, it looked incredibly cozy and welcoming.  It was built out of what seemed to be strong wooden beams and large river stones.  It had a thatched roof, and the trail changed to a path of large cobblestones as it led up to the cottage.  A lovely garden of tall red and purple peaflowers, bloomed on either side of the doorway.

"This has got to be to some kind of... I dunno.  Summer cottage of some eccentric rich oil baron..." Angelina said, trying to decide to be relieved or disturbed by the quaint little house that looked like an amusement park attraction.  

 She looked to Ambrose, silently asking what they do next.

“I’m sure you’re right,” Ambrose responded, eager for a realistic explanation to the cottage that seemed to be plucked out of time. 

“They have to have a phone.” He said, heading towards the door.  “Let’s see if anyone’s there.  And… even if no one’s home…. I’m sure they’d understand the circumstances.”  He said, sounding like he was convincing himself as much as Angelina that breaking and entering, while a crime, would be justified.

He strode up to the door and knocked…. And waited.  He knocked again, giving it a little more time.  No lights turned on, no footsteps could be heard inside.  And, eventually, Ambrose took a breath and tried the handle.

It opened immediately, to a darkened room.

He swallowed, looking to Angelina with a shrug and cast his light around the room.

One large room was visible.  There was a large fireplace at the far side of the room with an iron cooking pot set over the hearth.  Small rugs sat on the wooden floor, and to the left, a quaintly carved bed was set against the wall.  There was a table and cabinets to the right.  Ambrose felt around the wall near the door but frowned as he couldn’t find a lightswitch.  And, when he cast the flashlight beam upwards, no ceiling lights were visible.  Or lamps.  Or even a sink.  Just a basin set on the cabinets near the table to the right.

Ambrose shook his head, calling out once, “Hellooo..?” even though he was pretty certain that the room he saw was the extent of the home.  “My friend and I are lost.  Can we come in?”  He waited another moment before shrugging and stepping over the threshold, rubbing his arm to shake off the chill of the night. 

 "Is this place for real?" Angelina asked incredulously as she stuck close by Ambrose's side, letting him walk slightly ahead of her but keeping her hands latched to his arm.  By instinct her free hand went to the wall beside the door, feeling around for a light switch but found none.  "Jesus Christ, what the hell is going on here...?"   The place looked like something lost in time, yet still very 'new' - not like they had stumbled on some old abandoned cabin somewhere.  

 He sighed, feeling around and casting the flashlight around the cabin, though no light switch or devices of any sort could be found.   Finally, Ambrose shook his head, both boggled and frustrated.  “Well… maybe they don’t run electricity out here from the city… or… water…” He hesitated.  “And maybe… it’s like… a back to basics place.  To get away from things and go camping…”

There was, however, a short stack of firewood by the hearth, and Ambrose knelt beside it, opened the flue, putting a piece on the old iron log holder, and some of the dry mossy kindling underneath, using his lighter to get it started.  Soon enough, a soft, warm glow filled the single room and chased away some of the chill of the night. 

He stood up again and patted his hands off on his pants and set his backpack down. Glancing out a few of the windows to get their bearings and see if, just if there might be anything else to the place.  Like a real home behind it or something.  “There’s an outhouse back there it seems,” Ambrose commented, sliding the thin curtain closed again, “Maybe an old well…”  He continued, turning to face Angelina with a shrug. However, it didn’t need to be spoken aloud that there was no sign of a phone, let alone any electricity or running water.  Ambrose, in a last ditch of hope, turned the screen on on his phone again.  But there was still no signal, and the battery was down to its last block.

Angelina looked dubious at best.  Were there really places so "out there" they didn't run water?  If so, how did they get out there in a day’s walk?  She wasn't sure Ambrose starting the fire was a good idea, but she didn't say anything.  She sighed and petered about, taking a critical eye to all the little details.  The basin, the stitching in the rugs, the paint on the walls.  How was it possible to look so old and so new at the same time?  It was like a movie set; she wasn't entirely sure it wasn't.  

 Her feet ached from all the walking, but she looked hesitant to sit down: as if it all just poof away like some kind of elaborate mirage.

Ambrose tried his best to remain optimistic, realistic.  But despite the cozy, welcoming atmosphere of the cabin, he couldn’t help but feel distinctly unnerved by it all.  But he was tired, he’d been walking all day and had slept on the ground the night before.  He felt uncomfortable having just made himself at home in this cabin, but surely anyone would understand using their home by someone literally lost in the woods. 

After the fire had caught, and Ambrose put on another log to last it a while, he sat down in the large rocking chair that faced the fire with a sigh.  “I assume you’ve had no luck finding a phone, either?” He asked Angelina quietly. 

 "No," she said with a frown.  She pulled out her own phone and tried to get a signal, to no avail.  She sighed heavily and finally gave up, sitting down heavily on one chairs across the fire.  "So...now what?  We just sleep here?  Hope someone finds us?"  She shook her head hopelessly.  "I'm hungry... I want to take a shower and use toilet paper and just... what hell is going on?!"

 “I don’t know!”  Ambrose’s exasperation finally tore through.  “I don’t know where we are.  I don’t know how… there can be this much of it.  I don’t know why this place looks so… so… quaint.  Believe me, I want to be back home, too.  I’m just as tired of being dirty and lost and… not knowing where the hell we are.  I was certain -  CERTAIN – we’d at least find a phone if we followed the trail.”  He shook his head. “I say we stay here the night.  It’s dark outside, and it’s gotten cold out there.”  Not to mention creepy, he mentally added.  “After that… I’m not sure any more.” He admitted.

 Angelina looked genuinely surprised to see Ambrose explode like he did. She was usually the snarky pessimistic one.  She shrunk down into her chair a bit, averting her eyes.  She was worried, too, and Ambrose was always the calm, level-headed one.  Seeing him as panicked as she was made her want to cry.  She pulled her knees up to her chest in the chair and grew quiet.  

 Seeing Angelina’s reaction, Ambrose took a few calming breaths, rubbing at his temples.  This was his fault, too.  He hated letting his emotions, his temper slip.  He was chastised for it at home, and this was precisely why he was supposed to keep a calm, rational temper at all times.  So closing his eyes, moderating his breathing, Ambrose rebottled up his frustration, adding it to the ever-building little ball deep down. 

Ambrose  sighed, running a hand through his hair.  “I’m sorry.  I shouldn’t snap at you.  I’m just…”  not scared.  “worried.”  His demeanor changed drastically, and once more, he summoned a genial smile. 

"We’ll just keep moving on.  We'll find something eventually," Angelina said quietly.

He walked over to Angelina and lay a hand on her shoulder, giving it a small squeeze.  “I’m sorry… It’s going to be all right.  We have food, shelter.  And you’re right.  Eventually, either someone will find us, or we’ll find our way out.” 

He eyed the cast iron pot that hung over the mantle and his stomach rumbled.  “Why don’t I see if there’s any food here.  We’ll have something warm to eat, and we’ll get some rest.”

 "That's sound nice," she said quietly, smiling up at him.  "Something warm, especially.  If this is a vacation home they have got to have ... you know.  Soup or something.  Right.?"

 Ambrose smiled, letting himself ease into the warmth of the fire and Angelina’s smile.  “Why don’t you get comfortable, and I’ll take a look.”  He said softly to her, giving her shoulder another squeeze before wandering over to the kitchen-area of the home.  He opened some cabinets and pulled out what looked like some gourds and wrapped up carrots, some flour, and potatoes.  He tapped his foot for a minute, and then raised a reassuring hand, “I’ll be right back,”  He said, and headed outside.

He returned a few minutes later with a somewhat dubious expression and what looked like a piece of ham or some other sort of salted meat and a bucket of water. 

“I feel like I’m Amish,” Ambrose muttered ironically under his breath as he added water to pot and started cutting pieces of things into the mix.  Soon, however, the sound of boiling water and smell of a rich stew wafted through the home.

 Angelina fidgeted with her phone as she waiting for Ambrose to come back.  And when he did- she was expecting him to come bearing some cans of beans or chicken noodle soup... not a lump of dubious looking meat.

 What did that even mean?  There was no refrigeration - exactly how long could you preserve meat?  Did it mean someone was up here recently?  Or was the meat rancid?  It looked okay.. she guessed.  It didn't smell and it wasn't green...

 She help her tongue as Ambrose began to cook... the smell of hot, savory food reminding her exactly how hungry she was and suddenly she didn't care anymore about where it might have come from.

Ambrose had been as surprised as Angelina to find the small addition to the house on the outside when he had gone to get some water from the well.  But it seemed to be perhaps a smokehouse or something.  There were a few pieces of smoked or salted meat hanging from hooks on the ceiling.  But it looked surprisingly appetizing to him, after not having had a cooked meal in days.   And so, he was licking his lips as the stew came to a boil, and even Angelina seemed to be perking up.

He gathered a couple of wooden bowls and spoons from the kitchen, and ladled each of them out a serving before sitting down on the rug by the fireplace.  His stomach rumbling and saliva beginning to flow, Ambrose took a mouthful after carefully blowing on it.  It was hearty and thick, like a good gumbo, despite the lack of much to season it with around the home.  But the meat rehydrated in the soup with the vegetables and potatoes made good combination.  It was filling his stomach and helping settle his nerves further.  The whole house had warmed up, filling with the comforting scent of cooking stew, and after a full day of walking, again, Ambrose was beginning to feel drowsy.

“I hope it’s all right.  I made do with what I could find.”

 "You could have thrown a leather boot in here and you wouldn't hear me complaining," Angelina said between spoonfuls of the stew.  "But, no... It’s good.  Really!"  And it really was.  Much better than she was expecting giving what they had to work with.  Like Ambrose, she was hungry and tired and the warm soup in her belly was beginning to give her a drowsy effect.

“I’m glad.  I… was getting quite hungry, too.”  He stifled a yawn and glanced back to the only bed as he served himself a few more bites of soup and offered Angelina another as well while bringing up the touchy subject in his mind, “There’s just one bed.  Do you want me to sleep on the floor…?”  He would have, in an instant, if she has asked him to.  But he was really secretly hoping she didn’t.  Even though they had laid together the night before on the ground, or next to each other in the tent, there was something different, something suggestive about sleeping by each other in a bed when it wasn’t just him trying to lend her comfort.

 Angelina gave him a exasperated look.  "No, you don't have to sleep on the floor," she chided.  She kicked off her shoes and crawled into the bed, holding the blanket open and inviting for Ambrose.

Ambrose smiled sheepishly and removed his shirt, but this time left his pants on, and climbed into bed beside her. 

They immediately noticed that the bed, while covered in perfectly comfortable quilts, did not have the typical spring structure, let alone the high quality foam.  They sunk down into a downy, lumpy mattress.  However, in their exhaustion, and the warm, full-bellied state, it was difficult to complain.

Ambrose tentatively slid closer to her, wrapping an arm protectively around her slight figure before whispering softly in her ear, “Goodnight, Angelina.  We’ll….”  His words were interrupted by a brief yawn, “Find our way tomorrow.” 

 "Mmmmhnnn..." she murmured, leaning back against him and snuggling close.  She didn't even seem to notice - or care - about the lumpy mattress.  She was asleep moments later, the exhaustion washing over her.
 

The dreams that pulled them under that night continued the themes of the night before.  At least to start.  But the dream was so incredibly vivid it was hard to separate the dream from reality.  Especially with how dream-like reality had become recently.  Angelina was standing in a glade at night, the full moon shining above her.  She could see him, standing there, not ten feet away, panting, eyes reflecting the light with a hunger.  A hunger that echoed in her own loins.  She wanted him, him specifically.  No other normal man would do.  He was so big, the shape of him, his passion and power.  She had tasted it and now she craved it.  She called for him, and he came to her.  Angelina could feel the fur of the wolf against her, the heat of his breath and tongue.  She bent down, invitingly, and in just a moment, the pressure and jarring pain-pleasure washed over her as he thrust into her.  

Time seemed irrelevant as they joined under the moonlight, each never wanting it to stop.  Ambrose needed her, needed to be so close to her, filling her, claiming her.  It was all wild passion and growling and absolutely cutting loose all of those base desires that he had been suppressing… at least in his mind.

But then, as is the way of dreams… the scene shifted with hardly any segue.  Ambrose and Angelina stood now, in the same clearing, though each as themselves – Angelina in her street clothes, Ambrose as a man.  Before them was shifting light – like the glowing insect that had lured them deeper into the woods to begin with, but all collected together into a glowing, shifting form that was so bright that it was hard to look upon.   They could feel the presence as much as see it.  It felt powerful, ancient.   A wavery voice filled the clearing; the voice was like water flowing around them and filling them with its words.

Into my woods you have yourselves found,
Whether or not here you were journey bound.
But I welcome you with open arms,
And I assure I mean no harm.
Eat my food and drink my water,
And become my son and daughter.

 The fey magic imbued within
Ensures that you will not be as you have been,
Beneath these trees you will fill the roles,
That reveal the nature of your true souls:
One the girl with the cloak of red;
One the wolf that inspires dread.

 The presence seemed to turn its attention to Ambrose as it spoke, Angelina finding it hard to make out the words:

Within all men, a wolf resides
But more than most your nature divides.
The more you silence the beast inside,
The more strength he builds as time he bides.

You fancied yourself a charming prince,
And yet that lifestyle made you wince.
And so for you I will grant a boon,
And remove you muzzle, howl at the moon!

 And then, the glow seemed to fall on Angelina, Ambrose only hearing a muffled voice:

You who’ve seen the dark of man,
Suffered much from his hand,
Already the heroine of this tale,
Seen monster cloaked as kindly male.

Men have painted you to be the whore,
In truth prey to wolves let in your door.
Lacking parental guiding hand,
Of yourself you took command.

You don yourself in clothes that tempt,
To those that fall you show contempt.
But the one that your heart desired,
Was the one you have not acquired.

 Now with my blessing he will fall to your charm,
and know he will never bring you harm.
Still the protector, imbued with might,
Only those that would harm you shall feel his bite.
Turn this tale upon its head,
No more the victim is Little Red!

 Finally, the voice boomed louder, speaking to both once again:

As the adherence to the role is met,
So shall your form change to reflect.
For each other you are meant
And for each, the other bent.

 If Wolf and Maid together join,
Fill with seed, lion to lion,
Then forever shall you be as you were meant to be. 
But if before the deed is done,
You reach the border of the realm,
Then from my spell you will be free.

            Only then, when her – and they felt the presence to be female – voice died away, did the dream fade out slowly, and they found themselves once more nestled together in the bed in the cottage.  The bed was warm, and so were their bodies, still feeling the effects of the first part of the dream.  The fire had spluttered out sometime in the night, leaving the rest of the cottage cool, but sunlight was streaming in through the windows, filling the room with light.

Angelina shifted awake, not quite so jarringly as the day before, but the dream was still very much in her mind and it took her brain a minute to catch up with where she was.  She blinked and rolled over, coming face to face with Ambrose.  They were so close... his arms still wrapped around her and her hands resting on his warm, bare chest.  His face merely inches from hers, she felt a red blush blossom over her cheeks as she watched him.

A few moments later, Ambrose’s eyes slowly parted, blinking a few times before settling on Angelina.  Even just meeting his eyes, she could see the smile lines form at the corners as she was the first thing he saw when he woke.

It was a comforting feeling, especially, he thought, after the continuing odd dreams that he had been having.  The… very sexual dreams were one thing – even though they were much more realistic, much more detailed than any he had had in the past.  Usually, when Ambrose’s dreams were naughty, they were more feelings, seeing a woman’s face as she was with him.  Nothing nearly so graphic as the dreams he had been having since camping.  But he could almost pass that off as his mind expressing his frustration or … something… but the words from the second part of his dream still rang clearly in his mind.  For that matter, the raunchy first half was lingering strongly in his mind as well, not fading away like a morning mist as dreams often did.

Angelina watched as his brow furrowed as he remembered before exhaling and looking back to her, once more forcing a smile, and sincerely hoping that she didn’t feel or notice that he once again had a morning issue. 

“Did you sleep well?” He asked her, barely a whisper.  Their faces were so close together… He noticed the blush on his cheeks, and as if it were contagious, it spread to his own as well. 

Angelina nodded, her own mind spinning over the worlds in the dream that was so fresh in her mind.  It was more like a memory than a dream - just as clear and vivid in her mind even as she woke.  She slowly slid up into a sitting position, pulling her arms over her head in a lazy stretch.  "Yeah I did," she admitted, "I was exhausted."

The dream...it lingered with her, still.  She hugged her arms to herself, distracted by the near persistent echoing of the womanly voice.  She looked over to Ambrose, her words were so poignant about him.  Was is just her subconscious?  At school - being a teenager - everything seemed like such a big deal.  Feelings, whether you liked someone or not.  What people wore, what people they hung out with- this shit was important in high school.  What other people thought, or said, or felt was so much more important than your own feelings.  But out here - here, in the woods.  Alone.  Scared.  None of that seemed to matter anymore and Angelina found herself puzzling why she was so afraid to tell Ambrose how she felt.

"Strange dreams..." she murmured, realizing she was lost in thought and tried to offer some kind of explanation. 

Ambrose shifted to a sitting position, adjusting the blankets over his lap.  He felt warm, flushed, and very alive.  He kept expecting the dream to fade as they normally did and let him fully embrace the day, but it just wouldn’t quite leave him be.  He found his eyes straying over Angelina’s figure, how without her hoodie, her shirt was cupping her in all the right places…. No.  Ambrose rubbed his temples, and then Angelina’s words finally made it from his ears to his mind.

“You too?” He asked hesitantly.  “I…. well… I’ve been having odd dreams as well.  Especially last night.” He said with a shake of his head. 

"I know, right?!"  She ran her fingers through her hair.  "I know its because of the woods and this kind of ...weird cottage thing but I totally dreamed that I was Little Red Riding Hood," she said with a forced giggle.  "Stupid, right?"

Ambrose perceptibly stiffened as Angelina seemed to pluck the imagery from his mind.  He slowly cast her a sidelong glance, brows furrowed.  It had to be coincidence… right?  There was plenty to have spawned such an idea… like she said: the cottage… the woods, and those howls the night before. 

“Really?” He asked hesitantly, looking more fidgety.  “That’s an… interesting coincidence.”  He was hesitant to elaborate.  Especially with how powerful and sexually charged the dreams had been.  He was also ashamed of the role that the dreams had cast him in.  But even today, in the light of day, Ambrose couldn’t shake the sheer sexuality of it all.  How arousing the thoughts were, and some part of him really seemed to enjoy the fantasy, irregardless of how embarrassed he might be by that.

Angelina, too, felt the lingering effects of the dream more strongly.  Even if she found the subject matter, or her partner in the dream logically unattractive or even frightening, a little feeling inside was still really getting into it.  Like some kind of embarrassing fetish she had just discovered about herself.  The imagry was staying with her, still turning her on.  And there was a little nagging feeling in the back of her head goading her into what might it feel like.  Wouldn’t it feel amazing? 

"Coincidence," she asked, looking a bit nervous and unsure herself now.  She pulled on her hoodie, the obvious connection not registering just yet, and furrowed her brow.  "Did you have a dream like that, too?  In my dream... I think you were the big bad wolf," she said - though as she said it the words sounded a bit more breathy and scandalous than she intended to.  It was like her heart skipped a beat in her chest.

Angelina didn’t notice until after she had pulled it around her shoulders and was looking for the sleeves of her hoodie, but she couldn’t find them.  Habitually, her arms reached for them as she talked, but by the time she finished speaking, it slowly dawned on her that they were gone.  It wasn’t precisely a hoodie any more, but a short, hooded cloak.

Ambrose, meanwhile, was rubbing his face.  He didn’t like what he was hearing, not one bit.  Well, except for perhaps the bit where Angelina sounded oddly breathy.  It drew his attention back to her directly, his heart rate picking up.  “The wolf... that’s… funny, because… ” He triailed off, brows knitting as he looked over her once more, wearing a cloak.  “Where did you get that?” He asked quickly, looking nervous and yet, not able to look away.

"Wear what?"  She asked, but then, her brain seemed to catch up.  "Wait, what?"  She suddenly stiffened with a start, pulling at the garment and swatting it off her arms like it was some kind of snake.  "What the hell?" she sputtered, flabbergasted. 

But even as she was horrified by the strange twist, she found herself admiring the thick, plush, velvety texture of the garment.

Ambrose shook his head, flabbergasted.  “This… is some kind of joke, right?” Ambrose sounded nervous and looked a little pale.  “Tell me you’re not… doing something.”  But he doubted it.  “Maybe someone else has set this up.”  He started talking quickly, trying to focus, think of some explanation.  “Maybe you were right about some rich eccentric owning this property.  Maybe they’ve been… I don’t know, playing some low-volume tape or something while we sleep, influencing us… replaced you hoodie…”  He scratched at his arm, but found himself looking at her again, staring.  The texture looked so soft… he wanted to touch it.  And it certainly wasn’t helping his arousal.  Flashes of the dream played in his mind’s eye.  The cloak flapping in the breeze, luring him, calling to him.  He swallowed hard. 

"I'm not doing this!" Angelina shrieked defensively.  She twisted the fabric in her hands, feeling the soft material slide through her fingers.  "That's crazy," she said in response to Ambrose's conspiracy theory, though it certainly wasn't any more or less crazy than... well, her dreams being real.  "No.  No, that's just... I... we should go.  We just need to go and find a way out of here!"

“But it can’t be real.”  Ambrose protested. “They’re just dreams.  Maybe something influenced them to have us have… similar dreams…”  he didn’t want to compare them.  He didn’t want to lend the impossible scenario actual credulence.  But then why was he nervous?  Scared even?  Why was he feeling… so damn horny?  The erection hadn’t subsided since he woke up, and he kept finding his eyes drawn back to Angelina.

“But… regardless, yes, we need to find our way back home.  If for no other reason than we just need to get back home.”  Ambrose was unwilling to think for a moment that the words spoken in the dream had any real power.  Not willing to admit that he was actually a little scared that they might. 

He pulled his shirt back on, feeling the whisk of fabric over his torso more acutely than normal and tried to dismiss the thoughts of what if that was Angelina’s hands over his stomach, over his nipples, rather than fabric. 

He grabbed his backpack, slipping it on and looking around the cabin quickly for anything else that they’d need to take with him. 

"Wait....what exactly happened in your dreams," Angelina harped at him as he stomped around, hastily packing.  She swung the cloak over her shoulders and swung her feet out of bed.  "You think what you dreamed is coming real?  Is that what you think?  That can't happen!"

“What I dreamed doesn’t matter.”  Ambrose said, almost too quickly.  “And that is not what I think.  Because that’s impossible.  I just think we should get out of here, because something fishy is going on.  Someone replaced your hoodie.  Someone is… fucking with us.”  He growled, trying to avoid looking at Angelina.  But what was meant as an expletive brought a very different image to his mind.  He raised a hand to his temple as if he had a headache.

Resolutely, he turned to the door.  “We should go.” 

Angelina was upset and she wasn't sure why.  It was a mix of sexual and mental frustration, curiosity, and confusion.  "Fine!" she huffed, roughly grabbing her bag and busting out of the front door, slamming it open.  The fresh air would probably do her good anyway.  She squeezed her eyes shut once she was outside and took several deep breaths, trying to calm herself and clear her mind.

 

Being outside, while less claustrophobic than the tiny cabin, seemed to do nothing for her pent up frustrations.  Her skin tingled in the early morning mist.  The sun was shining, chasing off the chill and feeling warm on her skin.  She felt so… aware of her body.  Of each curve, how her clothes felt against it, all the sensitive areas.  Where the clothing was tight and restrictive, where it was loose and brushed against it.   And the woods reminded her of the dreams as well.  She remembered the wolf, and she felt another flash of arousal.  Her body wanted to feel it – feel a wolf. 

But before she had much time to think, Ambrose was outside as well, nearly slamming the door shut in his mix of emotions.  It was enough to shake Angelina from her reverie.  Ambrose shook his head; the seal on that internal bottle was slipping.  He always kept such tight reins on his emotions, and he wasn’t going to let that loose now.  Not because he just spooked himself from some far-fetched dreams and someone’s idea of a joke. 

“Okay.  Let’s get going.”  He announced redundantly.  He sighed, looking between the path and the woods.  He didn’t know which to take.

Angelina shifted uncomfortably, which didn't give her any relief.  She was half tempted to excuse herself for a moment for a "restroom break" but then the slamming of the door seemed to distract her at least momentarily. 

She had no tolerance for Ambrose's indecision, however.  She gave a heavy sigh and picked a directly - one she was fairly certain they didn't come from - and just started walking.   

Without complaining or arguing, Ambrose followed after her.  Maybe she’d have better luck than he had in getting them back.  Apparently his direction sense was utterly broken, anyway. 

He was silent for the first part of the walk, following Angelina.  At first he didn’t even realize he was doing it.  But as he fell into step behind her, his eyes lingered on her.  Watching the sway of her slender hips as she walked, the swish of her cape right above her ass.  And there was just the faintest scent of something wonderful as he followed her, he didn’t even think of the source, just zoning in an oddly pleasant state of mind as he walked.  It wasn’t until it caused a stirring in his pants once more, and he felt the telltale uncomfortable tightening and a distinctive bulge that he realized just how much he was honing in on her.  He flushed red, embarrassed. 

He quickly increased his pace, overtaking her and walking ahead of her.  He couldn’t think of a good excuse, so he said nothing. 

Angelina blinked as he took the lead, crosses her arms momentarily crossing.  What did he think he was doing?  He didn't know where he was going obviously.  "Know where you're going all the sudden?" she snarked, but kept pace with him.  This wasn't the pleasant stroll they had yesterday - they were both frustrated and irritable. 

Angelina certainly wasn't having trouble thinking of things she would rather be doing than trouncing through the woods.

Ambrose bristled.  “No, I don’t.  I am just headed in the same direction that you were a moment before.”  He responded, matching her tone.  He turned to look at her.  There was a snarl on his face, his lip curling back in irritation.  And Angelina could swear that his eyes looked a little different in the sunlight, the wrong hue, but maybe it was just the reflected sun…

And then they did something that Ambrose’s rarely did: they dipped downwards to her chest that was heaving in her irritation. 

"Can I help you with something?" she asked pointedly when she followed his gaze.

Ambrose squeezed his eyes shut and shook it quickly.  “No.”   What was he doing??  He couldn’t believe he was staring at her breasts.  He was better than that.
“Just…”  He gave a frustrated noise, still closing his eyes to keep himself from staring, “I’m … having a hard time concentrating today.”  He put it as delicately as he could, hoping that it was vague enough.   

Angelina scoffed.  "Oh, is that so?"

She stopped herself and took a deep breath.  "Okay, we're both a little freaked out and on edge.  Let's not take it out on each other."  She looked to him and reached out to take his hand in hers - meeting his eyes.  Her brows furrowed a bit as she looked at him noticing the subtle change.

Looking closer, and looking for it, it was unmistakable.  Ambrose’s eyes had always been such a perfect, clear blue.  It was his favorite color.  Now he looked down at her with sharp, amber-colored irises.  And, even stranger, a part of her was drawn to them, intrigued by them.  There was an almost exotic, exciting look to them. 

Not aware of this himself, Ambrose’s snarl faded and he looked down at her with gentler eyes.  He held her hand tenderly… it was so warm – beautiful and soft.  “I’m sorry.  You’re absolutely right.  I… don’t know what’s come over me.  I shouldn’t let this place get to me.  I’m just being paranoid.”  He didn’t quite let her hand go, it felt nice being this close to her.

Angelina smiled when Ambrose's demeanor softened, but a hand reached up and cupped his cheek.  "Your eyes..." she said softly, looking into them.  "They're..." she searched for the right word, but nothing she could say in a single word really communicated what she meant, "...different."

His brow furrowed in confusion.  “Different?” He echoed, a little skeptically.  He broke he gaze, turning back towards the direction they had been heading, denial washing over him.  She was just as paranoid as he was being right now.  Looking for things to justify her worries.  Nevertheless, Ambrose pointedly did not check his reflection.  He also bit back the follow up question of ‘different how?’ 

“I’m sure it’s just the light,” he said dismissively, not even knowing what she had seen.  “It’s filtering strangely through the trees.”  It was a stretch, and Ambrose knew it.  But the sunlight patterns on the forest floor were patchy, and the reflected greenish light from the leaves and other myriad colors from the flowers that still dotted the forest floor did make an interesting play of light in the woods.

He started walking forward again. 

Ambrose's staunch dismissal caught Angelina off-guard, but she didn't press.  She stifled back her protest, as he was already heading off at a quick pace, and scuttled off after him. 

If there was one saving grace of the brief argument and bolt of anxiety that Ambrose had felt, was that it had done a little to get his mind out of his pants. He continued, focused for the moment, continuing straight in the direction that Angelina had chosen.  He kept his eyes on the landscape and scenery, mostly making sure that Angelina was still with him and keeping pace by sound – the crunch of the leaves under her feet, the sound of her breathing.  All in all, Ambrose was quite aware of his surroundings as he walked.  Small movements in the underbrush snapping his attention, or noticing the changing scents as they got close to flowers or running water. 

As she walked, Angelina found her thoughts drifting, whether she liked it or not, back to the dreams she had had more than once.  Watching Ambrose, especially seemed to ensure that they didn’t leave her mind.  While her arousal was far from constant, it seemed that little things would remind her, give her tingles of arousal.  She noticed the texture of her clothes more as she walked over her body, and it was hard to keep her hands from the lush, velvety texture of the cloak that she had found. 

Eventually, Ambrose stopped for a moment, the rumble in his stomach audible even to Angelina.  He grimaced, finally casting a look back at her.  “We need to figure out something for lunch.”  He said, almost apologetically.   

"Huh?" 

Ambrose's voice interrupted her daydream, and she quickly removed her hands from where they were twisted the red velvet of her hood to her thighs.  "Oh, yeah... food."  The mention of it reminded her of how hungry she was as well.  "Uh... any ideas?" she asked, looking around the woods where they stood, hoping to catch some more of the berries or other fruit. 

There were a few clusters of berries just a little ways away, but Ambrose seemed to be overlooking them with a frown.  His fingers tapped indecisively at his thighs.  “I should have taken some provisions from the cottage.” He muttered irritably to himself. “We’re nearly out of trail mix… and I should save it to try to lure some small game or something.” 

Angelina headed towards the berries, looking over her shoulder to Ambrose, "uh... you really think you can trap something?"  She couldn't keep the skepticism out of her voice.  She plucked the berries, cupping them in her hands.  "I mean, you can use what's left and try...?"

Ambrose sighed, fingers still drumming on his legs.  “Maybe.  I’ve seen it done, and I know what to do in theory… but it would require time.  I’d have to set the trap, and then come back to it.  If we’re walking, then that isn’t very conducive to that.”  He ran hands through his hair in frustration, stomach growling again.  “I can try to work on that this evening when we stop for the night.  In the meantime,” He followed her movements to the berry bush. “There are the berries, I suppose.”  Ambrose felt a little tired of berries.  He’d eaten them pretty much all day the day before.  Certainly, they were sweet, and more importantly, they were sustenance. And he knew that the offerings of the woods were a far cry from a menu at a restaurant.  “What I wouldn’t give for a hamburger right now.” He lamented as he joined her in collecting some berries into one of the small bags, handing her another one.

The berries were as sweet as the pair remembered.  Almost sinfully moist and succulent.  And while to Ambrose, they were overly sweet, though still made him feel more… relaxed… nice.  To Angelina, it was hard to picture wanting something else.  And while they were servicing in at least taking the edge off of his hunger, watching Angelina as her lips went around the berries served as quite the appetizer for the other hunger he had been struggling with. 

Angelina shrugged and indulged herself in the almost candy-like succulence of the berries.  "We can rest for a moment," she said, sitting down on a fallen log and patting the space next to her.  She just wanted to catch her breath, give her feet a rest, and enjoy a nice moment.  She smiled at him around a particularly large one, her eyes seeming to shine as they bored into his. 

Sitting by Angelina’s side sounded wonderful, and they had been walking for a while that morning already.  “That is a good idea.  I hope I haven’t been too much of a drill sergeant with the forced marching.”  He tried to joke.  Ambrose’s eyes seemed sharper, more intense with the odd golden-amber color.  Although perhaps it was partially due to his also being much more attentive to her.  He made and held eye contact, obviously watching her and her movements.  Watching her lips form around the large berry in her mouth…

Ambrose took his seat next to her, letting their thighs press just slightly against each other.  She felt warm… and as Ambrose popped a berry into his mouth, he couldn’t help but breathe in, taking in the smells of the little grove that had been caused by the fallen tree.  He leaned in just a little closer to Angelina, letting the scent of her hair mingle with the sweet berry and crisp breeze scents.  And then, slowly, rested his palm on the top of her leg.  He meant it to be an encouraging pat, but instead, his hand just lingered there, giving her a brief squeeze. 

Angelina's eyes dropped down to her thigh where Ambrose's hand lingered, before slowly letting her gaze wander back up to his face, catching his eye contact.  She swallowed the berry she was currently chewing on, feeling her breath catch in her throat as she was suddenly very aware of Ambrose's presence and how close he was.  Her eyes bored into his ... invitingly.  Almost as if she was asking him for something. 

Ambrose could feel his heart thumping in his chest.  Everything felt just a little softer, a little hazy.  He wanted to lean forward, place his own lips on her lush lips that looked so sweet… just a little bit of berry juice beading on them.  He found himself leaning forward, slowly.  And then, wondering why he was hesitating.  Hadn’t he wanted to do this?  For years?  Why hadn’t he kissed her before?  Surely… he had to remedy this slight.

He closed the rest of the distance, softly pressing his lips against hers, and then, letting his tongue run along her lips, catching the drops of juice that had stained them a dark plum color. 

The whole scene seemed to play like slow-motion.  Angelina's eyes went wide as Ambrose learned in - at the very moment his lips brushed against hers she let out a small, sharp intake of breath before they closed over hers.  She let her eyes slide close as she learned forward eagerly, her hands coming up to swing around his shoulders hungrily as she returned the kiss, her own tongue coming forward to meet his as it slipped between her lips.

Ambrose slid his eyes closed and just felt.  The moist, velvety softness of her lips.  The warmth of her mouth and sliding his tongue inside, feeling around in a naive, exploratory manner.  He breathed in her scent and slowly the tension began to leave his shoulders as he reached around, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her closer to him, pressing their bodies together as his mouth sealed over hers, drawing her in and kissing her passionately.  The innocent kiss turning into a heated, earnest kiss borne of years of utter chastity. 

Angelina murmured something unintelligible- but positive sounding- as Ambrose pulled her closer.  Angelina was surprised at the heated, passionate kiss Ambrose was delivering but she returned it whole-heartedly.  She slid as close as she could get, nearly sitting in his lap as she enjoyed the feel of his hands on her waist as the feel of his heaving chest pressed against hers.  Her hands slid up into his hair, her nails dragging gently over his neck and scalp. 

Ambrose responded with an enthusiastic murmuring growl, holding her tightly against him, eager to feel the press of her body against his.  He aided, pulling her completely onto his lap and slid one hand up under the back of her shirt, feeling her smooth skin.  He became increasingly aware of the obvious fact that beneath a thin layer of clothing, she was naked.  It was intoxicating.  The soft pressure of her breasts on his chest, the heat of her thighs on either side of his.  Angelina could also feel an unmistakable hardness pressing against her from his lap. 

He moved away from her mouth, kissing and nipping very gently along her ears and neck. 

Angelina was warm - from the steady walking and other things.  The heat of her was obvious as she rolled her hips eagerly against where Ambrose was straining in his pants.  She breathed heavily when the kiss finally broke, whispering his name as he dragged his lips across the skin of her neck.

She had never wanted anything so bad in her life.  This was so far beyond just being horny.  She wanted him.  To be close to him and touch him and to run her fingers through his hair.

She had wanted this for a long time.  But having it now, she couldn't fathom wanting it to ever stop.

Ambrose was set aflame with passion and desire; his impenetrable shell of decorum was cracking, letting some of the passion that Ambrose strove to hide out.  He had denied how much he had fallen for Angelina over the years; how close they’d grown.  He’d said he was just protecting her, and certainly it wasn’t jealousy that made him dislike the other guys that she went out with.

Now, as his hands roamed over her warm flesh, and his lips planted fiery kisses on her neck, he breathed her in, wanting to have all of her.  Why had he let his insecurities get in the way of them as them?  Why did he care so much about what his constantly disapproving parents thought?  Why was he thinking at all?

Even the soft sound of her breathing gave him goosebumps as her breath tickled his ears.  But as he continued to kiss, growing more needful as she pressed against him, making his pants seem so incredibly tight, the kisses grew more fervent, into nips, and then, Angelina felt just the tiniest of pricks.

Angelina let out a small yelp - more of surprise than pain - as she felt the sharp points of his teeth grow increasingly pointed.  It was just enough pain to break her out of her heady daze of sensation.  Her hands untangled from his hair and slid down to his cheeks, gently guiding his face up to look at her.

Hearing Angelina’s exclamation of surprise and withdrawing from his affections was enough to turn the cold water on Ambrose.  He was going too fast, too much!  He’d just had his first real kiss… he didn’t want to spoil that magical moment by pushing it too far, too fast.  Heaven forbid his first time be the same day as his first kiss.   But that kiss… God that kiss…

“I’m sorry,” He said breathily as he withdrew.  But as he pulled back and Angelina looked over him, more of those differences became apparent.  Joining his large, amber eyes were unmistakably longer, pointed ears with a dusting of velvety fur along the backsides.  And as he spoke, he revealed flashes of longer, sharper canines.  “That was…. Amazing.  But… you’re right…” Ambrose said, continued obliviously, thinking he knew why she stopped, “This… isn’t the time for that.”

Angelina's eyes went a bit wide as she looked over Ambrose - his ears, his teeth!  She stuttered - not wanting to scare him or anything,  "Ambrose - what ha- what - ... big ... your ears!"

She swallowed, shaking her head a bit in disbelief.  She should be scared but flashbacks of the dreams from the previous nights burned into her brain, causing her body to flush with heat again.

Ambrose’s brows furrowed and a frown burrowed itself onto his face.  “That’s not funny, Angelina.”  She was joking, right?  Making a reference to the dreams they were having.  But her expression seemed… unsettlingly serious.

Angelina let her hands trace back over her face, and along the long line of his ears, shaking her head no as she played her fingers over the fine, velvety fur along the backsides.

Ambrose watched her intently under knitted brows, but as she softly touched his ears, much longer than they should have been, the brows drew upwards and his eyes widened. 

To Angelina’s fingers, the short peach-fuzz fur was so soft and delicate.  And to Ambrose, the sensation was… indescribable.  Despite the terrifying, impossible situation, it felt so good.  Goosebumps rose along his arms and neck and he couldn’t help but let loose a breathy laugh, followed by a warm southern stirring again. 

“St-Stop!”  He breathed, batting her hand away before, shakingly, reaching up to confirm for himself.   His own fingers felt along the inhumanly long ears, covered with soft, velvety hair.   His mouth fell open, once more flashing fangs. 

“No no no no no.”  He shook his head. “That’s impossible.”

"Ambrose, what's happening...." she squeaked nervously.  "Oh my god... in my dream... in my dream I was Little Red and you were... you were..." she swallowed and failed her hands at him, indicating his features, not bringing herself to say it.

Ambrose shook his head, dropping his hands back to his lap quickly and squeezing them together, staring intently at nothing in particular.  The dreams returned vividly to his mind as well, particularly what he was in them.  “I… had the same dreams, I think.” He said, very, very quietly.  “But that doesn’t mean…. This has to be some kind of… I don’t know… prank…”  It sounded weak, even to him.  But what explanation was there?  There was no good explanation. “Maybe… the food at the cottage… was drugged or something…”  He stretched.  “We were fed suggestions, and that’s affecting our perceptions…” He rambled. 

"I...I don't know..." Angelina said, worriedly.  "I mean, I don't know any drugs than can do... can do this..."

She swallowed, again... trying to think of better explanation.  But the dreams...they were so vivid.  And they did make sense in their own way.  "You... you had the same?"  She blinked, wondering just how exactly the same they were.  "If... if that's the case then we just have to get out of here, right?  Find the edge... of the ,,,,uh, realm or whatever." 

Ambrose watched her carefully.  He didn’t like hearing it, but she described the same thing he remembered from his own dream.  “I don’t know for certain if it was the same.”  He caged, “But… yes… the message sounds the same.”  He wrung his hands together.  “So yes.  We… we just need to get out of here.” He couldn’t help but add a worried laugh.  It’s not like they hadn’t already been looking for a way out for the past few days.

He pushed himself back to his feet, straightening his shirt and went to run his hands through his hair again but stopped and snapped his hands back to his sides as he accidentally touched his longer ears. 

"Okay..." she said, following off after him as they continued their panicked, forced-controlled march into the abyss of the woods.  She walked by him silently for a long while, twisting the fabric of her hood between her hands nervously.  She kept looking over to him... his eyes, the ears... her heart fluttered as she considered the implications.  At the same time, she could see Ambrose trying to swallow down his emotions - a floodgate of emotions was flashing behind those amber eyes of his.  The way his jaw clenched, the small beads of sweat on his brow and the worry lines at the edge of his eyes.

She frowned, wondering what torture he was putting himself through.  She reached out and took his hand in hers. 

He looked back quickly, as if startled by the sudden snap back to reality.  But he sighed, calming when he saw it was just her, and forced a smile at her, holding her hand tightly.  His palms were sweaty and clammy, but he held onto her hand as if it were a life preserver in a sea of uncertainties. 

Each occasionally felt the flash of heat or arousal, initiated by little things, random flashes of memories of the dreams or finding themselves appreciating the other – little movements drawing their eyes.  But the pressing consequences that the dream hinted at kept them moving. 

They pressed on as the shadows of the forest grew long, and the light began to fade.  This time, however, there was no path, no cottage.  There were patches of more open spaces among the trees, nestled in blooming patches of flowers or soft grasses. 

Ambrose gave a heavy sigh.  They obviously hadn’t made it out yet in another full day’s travel.  He looked to Angelina, apologetically.  “I don’t know if we should keep going after dark.”  He said reluctantly.  Once more, the atmosphere of the woods seemed to be changing as day gave way to night.  There was more of a chill on the air, eerie rustlings in the leaves.

"I'm tired," she admitted.  She looked around the creepy forest, hugging her arms to herself for a minute as she tried to focus on what to do.  There was no shelter, and the woods looked much more unwelcoming at night.  She was hungry, too, but didn't want to bring it up.  There were too many other things on her mind to worry about.  "Here..."

She pulled him over to a soft looking patch of grass surrounding by a few inviting looking flowers.

Ambrose knelt down beside her.  The grass was surprisingly soft and comfortable as she got down in it – long enough to almost provide a barrier against the chill of the night.  Ambrose looked around at the little grove they had found.  The darkening woods seemed to make it seem as if the ring of trees around them were reaching out to them, held at bay by a few scant blooms of flowers.  It was unsettling, but Ambrose knew it was just tricks of the light and their paranoia making it seem worse than it was.

Ambrose’s eyes caught the fading light strangely as he looked about, returning his eyes to Angelina.  They mirrored the last remains of sunlight like an animal’s. 

He removed his pack and lay it down beside her as his stomach gave another demanding growl.  He frowned, placing a hand over it and glanced around.  He… was surprised at how well he could see in the fading light.  “I… could try to set up some traps… see if we can have a real breakfast.”  He looked to her, as if asking permission.  “I won’t go far.”

"Promise," she said nervously, not liking the idea of her going out much farther than she could see him.  "Please... don't go far."

Ambrose nodded, knowing how deceiving these woods could be.  As much as he hated to admit it… it seemed impossibly disorienting.  He reached into his pack and pulled out a length of thin rope that he had brought – just in case.  “Always be prepared.”  He said with a snort.  He reached out and handed Angelina one end of it, then cut off about two feet of it to use for his snare, and tied the other end to his belt. 

“I won’t go far.  Just far enough into the woods to set a snare.”  He smiled.  He could see the anxiety in her eyes, and wanted so badly to comfort her.  To make everything all right.  He leaned forward and kissed her softly on the forehead.  “I… won’t let anything happen to you, Angelina.”  He promised, “I…”  His voice faltered and he looked down at the long grass. “I am sorry that it took… this… for me to realize just how much I felt for you.”

She gave him a warm smile.  It was comforting for her to hear that - that it wasn't just Ambrose caught up in the moment, overwhelmed by physical need.  She didn't even know she had been worried about that until he said and she felt like she wanted to cry from relief.  "I'm not letting go of this," she said, holding onto the end of the string.   

“And I will never let go of you.” He promised, “Not here.  Not after we get back.  Never.”  There was an intensity to Ambrose as he held her gaze for a few moments more.  Why hadn’t he realized just how much she meant to him until now?  At least it wasn’t too late for them.  He had had questions and indecisions plaguing him when he set off on this trip.  And now, he had answers.

Finally, he stood, testing the knot on his belt with two short tugs before he grabbed a few more supplies from his backpack, including his knife, and headed off into the treeline.

Angelina blinked back tears as she nodded to him, sitting back in the grass and clutching the string in her hands with a deathgrip as she watched Ambrose wander off into the darkness.

Ambrose wove his way into a thicker section of the woods, careful to make sure that the rope stayed firmly attached to his beltloop, stepping softly so as to not disturb whatever animals he might encounter.  He kept his eyes open, peering into the shadows and the darkness, looking for something in particular.  He hoped he could find it before his rope ran out.  Then, just as he only had about ten feet left, he found it – a thin path that snaked between the trees.  A game trail.  Ambrose didn’t want to dwell on it, he hated the thought of it, but he could swear he smelled small animals fresh along it.  He shuddered, disturbed by this revelation, but not enough to turn away a stroke of fortune. 

He crouched down, getting to work, looping some of the rope he had cut between some branches and making a basic noose knot, using some found sticks as the trip and ballast for the snare.  He scattered some of the remaining trail mix at the base and made sure his connections were secure.

Then, he took a fallen branch and propped it against a thick tree that bore lots of acorns, tying another waiting noose wire along the ramp and trailing some more food along it to try to lure a squirrel. 

Nodding to himself that it would do – at least, it was how the scout master had taught him, he grabbed his knife, and began to follow the rope back to Angelina a little ways before crouching down to watch the set traps for a bit.  He felt like he was starving, and if he didn’t have to wait till breakfast for fresh meat, then all the better.  The thought of a struggling, fresh rabbit or squirrel in his trap made his stomach ache and growl again, and he felt the saliva welling up in his mouth.  The thought of returning, a victorious hunter to Angelina only made the idea of waiting… a little longer… all the more tempting.  At least at this point he was so focused, crouched in waiting and watching the snares, that he had almost forgotten the burning desire he had fought earlier that day.  Almost forgot the spell. 

As Angelina waited for Ambrose, she could feel the vibrations in her end of the robe as Ambrose moved out of site, as it rubbed against tree trucks and was pulled along the ground.  Alone now, nestled in the bed of flowers and grass, she was drowsy, but not enough to quite shake off the chill of being alone in the dark woods with noises all around her.  And yet, holding onto this connection that she knew led to Ambrose was a comfort – a life line… a… leash, she couldn’t help but imagine, feeling a new flush of arousal. 

Minutes stretched into fifteen… thirty, but she could feel the tension on the line, knowing he was still relatively close by.  And it didn’t do anything to slacken her rebuilding arousal.  She was alone… no one was watching her, a little voice seemed to egg her on. 

She squirmed, thinking of Ambrose which only made her body pulse with desire.  He was taking a while..and..and...

She licked her lips, not really believing she was even considering ....but... well...with the line and the string, certain she would know if he was coming close. 

And, well, if she didn't do something to relieve this tension, she was bound to jump Ambrose's bones as soon as he showed himself.  Giving a furtive glance around into the darkness, she settled on her back in the grass and took a few calming breaths.  She kept Ambrose's string in her left hand as she unbuttoned her pants and let her hand slip inside, sliding slowly  over her belly before under the waistband of her panties and over the springy patch of hair beneath. 

She breathed out a sigh of relief as she thought of Ambrose, her fingers slipping between the folds. 

Ambrose was staring intently at the traps when he heard a soft noise, tiny feet on bare earth.  His ears pricked, listening intently and remaining absolutely still.  Subconsciously, his tongue ran along the sharp points of his canines as he waited, poised, staring.  Then, he saw it, a small, furry rabbit poking its way carefully along the trail.  He had made sure that his waiting spot was downwind, and he waited, watching as it got closer and closer to the snare.  It sniffed tentatively at the bits of granola and dried fruit before finally, making the one last hop that set off the snare.  In an instant it was over.  The rope tightened around its neck and the bent tree jerked, snapping the animal’s neck almost instantaneously as it only had time to let loose a quick squeal of surprise. 

With a quick “YES!” of triumph, Ambrose sprung from his hiding spot and was on the rabbit, detangling it from the rope, and resetting the trap just in case he could catch another for the morning.

As he held his furry victory in his hands, though, he stared down at it, feeling it, still warm… There was no doubt in his mind that he could smell it.  His stomach gave a very audible, demanding growl.  This was what he wanted.  This is what he had been craving.  This was food.  He licked his lips, saliva pooled in his mouth, nearly running loose from it.  He could just… sink his teeth into it… taste it…

It was then, that in the distance, just as the night before, a mournful howl wavered, announcing its presence. 

Ambrose snapped to attention, away from his rabbit, defensive.  Before he knew it, he almost lifted his head to call an answer.  But then, reason came crashing down around him.  God!  What am I doing?! Ambrose thought, panicked.  Wanting to eat the dead, uncooked rabbit, nearly about to howl!  He staggered back to his feet, away from the set trap, head clutched in his free hand.  It was getting worse, these ... impulses.  Animalistic.  He couldn’t deny it.  He could feel the prick of his teeth against his tongue.  It had been too long to even consider some kind of drug influences.  This was real.  Impossible.  Terrifying.  But real. 

He had to get back to Angelina.  He’d skin the rabbit later.  He turned to follow the rope back to its source.

The howl carried its way to where Angelina was nestled as well… And it did not disturb her private time nearly as much as it should have… instead, it brought back powerful memories of her dreams.  Of the large, furry presence over her.  Powerful, raw… the thought of a wolf was partiuclarly sexual imagery to her.  However, the desire didn’t affect her rational mind – the thought of finding that sort of thing attractive was just as jarring as it should have been, but it didn’t help how she felt. 

Angelina let out a soft moan at the howl, feeling her heart rate quicken as her fingers played over her body.  In her mind, the wolf-Ambrose was back...crawling over her.  His tongue playing over her nipples before his mouth held her down by the shoulder...

She didn't want it to end, but she felt her climax building.  Her hips bucked under her ministrations as she lost track of time and location.

The rope went slack as Ambrose made his way back towards the camp site, not bothering to disguise his footfalls any more.  He was irritated at himself.  Worried at how easily he had begun to slip.  He didn’t want to be like that: savage… uncivilized…

"Goddamit..." Angelina breathed, feeling her orgasm fade away as Ambrose got closer.  She quickly buttoned her pants and sat up, waiting for him.  "Ambrose?" she asked tentatively, her breath short and her body flushed.

Ambrose crashed back into the campsite, clutching the body of a grey hare in one hand, looking a little shaken.  He paused, looking to her with furrowed brows.  She looked startled, but there was a … different sort of scent on the air. 

As he looked to her, however, the tendrils of the spell’s magic had obviously worked their way deeper into the blonde.  His ears were longer still and fully furred, cupped and pricked, swiveled towards her – no longer human at all.  And the sclera of his eyes were no longer visible, his irises large and golden, rimmed in a feral black, giving him unmistakable, predatory eyes. 

“I caught a rabbit.” He said bluntly, not nearly as proudly as he had anticipated feeling.  Almost embarrassed.  “Are… are you all right?” he swallowed.  Her cheeks were flushed, and something smelled so… so… nice here. 

"You did?"  She couldn't help but be a bit impressed, looking at the corpse in his hand.  "Wow...good job, Ambrose!" she said, maybe compensating a bit for the slipping humanity. 

"What...do we do with it?"

“Well… we need to skin it… and get a fire going.  Put it over it on a spit or something.”  He smirked, “roast it like a marshmallow.”   His eyes hung on Angelina, however, as he spoke.  There was a powerful scent here, something that really stirred his primal feelings. 

Ambrose also wasn’t sure if he trusted himself with the rabbit.  There were thoughts drifting through his mind that he didn’t want to open to temptation.  “I … don’t suppose if I gave you a knife, you think you might be able to do that?” He winced, “If I get the fire going?” 

But thinking about the rabbit and its preparation seemed preferable to letting himself focus on other things he wanted to do.

"Wait...what?"  She blinked.  "You want me to skin it?"

“Iiii….”  Ambrose hesitated, scratching the back of his head.  This wasn’t exactly a normal request.  Most people, himself included, were so far removed from where food came from.  He looked down at the limp rabbit again, cocking his head and staring intently.  “Maybe you can get the fire started instead, then?” There’s some sticks just outside the clearing.  Keep the rope on hand.  Pick grass where you’re going to start it, and set some stones around it to contain the fire.”  He tossed her his lighter. “You saw me do it the other night.” 

"Yeah okay," she said, taking the lighter.  "I think I can figure that out," she said with a little huff, keeping hold of the string and heading out to collect sticks to use as kindling.

 

Ambrose headed to the other side of the clearing, crouched down and pulled out the knife and stared for a moment at the rabbit, the blade poised.  It should be simple… His stomach growled again.  Gritting his teeth, he slid the blade in, and began to work it around the neck, forming a full circle.  Finally, he took a deep breath, and ripped downwards, pulling the skin loose. 

He swallowed, staring at the skinned rabbit in his hand, and his stomach churned.  He could feel a deep, empty pit.  He felt like he was starving.  And it looked so… good.  Juicy.  Fragrant. 

Before he knew what he was doing, he was sinking his teeth into one of the legs.  He could taste the bl- juice – running down his throat.  It was absolutely delectable.  With a crunch, he bit down, teeth adjusting a little more to make it a simple task to rip off one of the legs and chew it into a swallowable lump in a matter of seconds. 

He gasped after he had finished the bite, horrified.  “Oh god.” He swallowed, covering his mouth.  He thought he was going to retch.  He stumbled to his feet and back towards camp. 

When he broke the treeline, Ambrose looked pale, with the bloody rabbit in one hand and was wiping his mouth. 

Angelina has lit and re-lit the dried grass a few times, trying to arrange the firewood in a fashion so that it would burn for more than a few minutes at a time when Ambrose startled her by bursting into the circle of light.  "Oh my god, what happened?" she asked before her brain could catch up and put the pieces together.

Her gaze went to the bloody rabbit and the smear of red on Ambrose's mouth and she gasped. 

Ambrose quickly averted his eyes, his lip curling in disgust and humiliation.  Subconsciously, his ears pinned backwards also telegraphing his mood.  He didn’t want her to look at him like that, didn’t want her to see him like he was becoming.  How had he fallen so quickly?  He wiped more at his mouth with the back of his hand quickly, even though the damage was done. 

“I’m fine.” He growled, sitting down by the start of the fire.  He made himself look busy, though still irritated, adjusting it and adding a few more wood pieces to it, building a small teepee- like shape before grabbing a long stick and skewering the rabbit (minus one of the legs) and beginning to roast it.  A positively delicious scent of roasting meat began to drift from the carcass. 

Angelina bit her lip, but didn't say anything else.  She moved out of his way, almost nervously, as she let Ambrose work.   She had to admit the smell of roasting meat - hot and fresh - was delectable.  Her stomach roared awake as they waited for their meal. 

Ambrose was quiet for a while, a haunted look behind his lupine eyes.  Finally, as the meat was popping crackling, charring just a little on the outside and smelling absolutely divine, Ambrose spoke again. “I’m sorry about all of this.  It’s my fault.  I brought us out here.  I followed the damn bug.  Or… whatever the hell it was.”  He pulled the rabbit off of the fire, waving a hand in front of it to try to cool it off. 

"You can't blame yourself," Angelina said softly.  She pulled at the fabric on her hood and watched the rabbit closely, very hungry herself.  "There is no way you could have predicted this would happen!  This... this is impossible.  You couldn't have known."  She reached out and touched his face, her fingers instinctively running down the back of his furry ears .

Ambrose slid his eyes closed, leaning into her touch.  It was so comforting… so nice.  And the sensation of her fingers along the back of his ear sent pleasant little tickles down his spine.  He sighed, just leaning there for a moment.  “I know… it’s just… I was responsible for both of us.  I know that… I could never have predicted this, but we’re still here because of me.”  He looked back up to her again with golden eyes that seemed to stare right through Angelina.  He didn’t want to admit it, but he was scared.  And it was hard to completely disguise that fact in his face.  What if they couldn’t find the way out in time?  Ambrose absolutely prided himself in his rational mind and his resolve, but could he really hold off forever, searching for a goal that he wasn’t even sure was there?  Just because he didn’t like the difficult choices about his future he was faced with back home didn’t mean he wanted to turn his back on reality all together. 

He took another deep, steadying breath and looked back down to the rabbit, taking an exploratory bite first to make sure it was cool enough.  His lips pulled back to reveal even longer, sharper, curved canines than when Angelina had last seen them, and he tore off a bite, chewing with a delicious moan.  Restraining himself, however, he licked his lips and passed it to Angelina with an encouraging nod. 

Angelina was watching every movement... she felt the fur along the back of his ears and the curve of his new long teeth.  She could see the fear in his eyes and that pained her.  But... well, while she was upset he was upset she just couldn't get herself to be as frightened as he was. 

She took the rabbit and gave it a test bite.  The skin was crispy and the meat has a strong, gamey taste she wasn't used to.   But it was a hot and juicy, and after a few swallows getting used to wild-tasting flavor, she found herself quite enjoying herself.  She pulled off the remaining leg and handed the rest back to Ambrose. 

Ambrose nodded, taking the skewered rabbit back and pulling a few more bites directly off of the roast, his teeth making easy work of pulling meat from the bone.  But it was just hot enough and savory and crispy in all the right parts, and he found himself eating a little more than he planned.  But with a fuller stomach, Ambrose was feeling a little better, and some of his confidence was returning.   Still some left, he offered it back to Angelina again. 

“Thank you for listening,” He spoke up again, swallowing the last bite of rabbit he had taken.

Angelina finished off what was left, tossing the carcass into the fire when it was picked clean, as not to encourage any late-night visitors.  She snuggled close to Ambrose by the fire, wrapping her arms around him as they watched the flames flicker in the night.

Ambrose leaned into her, snaking one of his arms around her as well, feeling her presence against him as they watched the fire and listened to the sounds in the night.  The stars were still so bright out, and the fire helped chase away the eeriness of the night. 

Eventually, sleep came to claim the pair, pulling them back into the dreams that while once were just disturbingly strange yet powerfully sexual were now seeming unsettlingly oracular, and becoming more and more difficult to distinguish from their waking lives.

As in the previous dreams, the atmosphere seemed to be almost as pertinent as what was perceivable through normal senses.  Tonight, the air had a tingle of excitement.  Things felt dangerous, creepy, and yet both Ambrose and Angelina felt anticipatory.  They walked down a narrow path through nearly black woods, tree branches reaching out to catch and snag them.  Angelina, while herself, and with more presence of mind than in some of her other dreams, was wearing the complete garb of Little Red:  From short but plush and velvety red cloak, to a tight corset around her waist, pressing her breasts up and together, barely covering the flushed pink of her areolas, and a short skirt that would revealingly flash the back of her satiny panties.  She carried a basket with her, clutched protectively to her chest.  She was on her way to visit her grandmother, and while she might have been more aware, there did not seem to be anything strange or ironic to this task.

Ambrose walked just behind her, and she could feel his presence there, and despite the darkness of the woods, it made her feel safe.  He was watching her, protecting her.  And she knew, that as long as he was with her, no harm would come to her. 

It was difficult to determine how much time passed, but the darkness seemed to grow darker, the path narrower and narrower until it was hard to make out the way.  The two pressed closer together, and Angelina clutched at Ambrose’s still-modern clothing.

“They say a hunter stalks these woods,” He said softly to her, eyes scanning the trees.

 She looked up to him, still completely human in this visage, and furrowed her brow.  How could he protect her like that? 

“Ambrose,” She whispered to him, needing to set this right, “What big ears you have,” She said it almost as a lure more than an observation.
And in response, they grew long, becoming lupine.  “The better to hear the danger that might lurk in these woods,”  he responded. 

“And what big eyes you have,”  She continued, already feeling more reassured.
“The better to see through the darkness, my dear.” He answered as they turned golden and round, predatory.

“And your teeth, Mr. Wolf.”  She pressed, “What big teeth you have.”
He pulled back his lips in a confident, snarling smile, revealing long fangs, “The better to defend you with, my dear.” 

Fur was spreading over him now as the changes continued, his form seemed to blur.  She didn’t see him change so much as reveal himself to resemble the Big Bad Wolf that she knew him to be, her fearless protector and…

“What was the hurry again?” He growled to her.  And it was difficult to remember.  The woods seemed less frightening and less dark with him there.  It made her feel warm and needful.

“Instead of traveling so quickly to Grandmother’s… perhaps… we should stop and pick some flowers.”  He said, eying her very short skirt, licking his muzzle with his long tongue, making his meaning quite obvious. 

And suddenly, the narrow path was a grove, filled with flowers and soft grass, and Angelina was laying down, her skirt pulled up as Ambrose’s snout found and snuffled at her panties, his long tongue wedging in between the band and her legs.  And her mind reeled as she found new pleasures, her body quivering more and more with each lick as Ambrose hungrily lapped at her… eating her up.

 
Ambrose slowly came to, staring up at a pink dawn sky and the feel of soft grass and flowers.  Scents – the faint smell of smoke of what was left of the fire pit… the bouquet of flower pollen and grass that seemed just like the dream… and most of all, Angelina.  He could smell her need, and as he turned, see her there, still wrapped up in her dream, on her back and writhing ever so slightly.  It almost felt like he was still dreaming – the scene was so similar.  Surrounded by flowers, the soft whimpering noises she made, her smell… and the way that short skirt was hiked up around her thighs, revealing her moist panties.  Ambrose, still feeling like his mind was half in the dream, almost didn’t realize how her bottoms had changed as they slept. 

He rolled to his stomach, unable to pull his eyes away from her as he watched her… wanting.  She… needed him.

He crawled forward just a bit, until his hands were delicately caressing her exposed thighs, and his head was near her womanhood.  Breathing in the scent.  It was… intoxicating.  And he felt as hungry for her as he had for the rabbit…  He licked his lips, and began to lean in. 

And when Angelina awoke, she was on her back in the same bed of flowers and grass that she had drifted off in, but the everything seemed so similar to her dream.   Her body was hot and she felt so wet from the sensations that still clung to her, wanting the same attention that she had just been dreaming of.  The flowers felt the same, the heady feeling was the same, and there was Ambrose, head less than a foot away from her lap, and moving closer. 

Angelina gasped slightly as she came into consciousness, though it was indistinguishable to Ambrose compared to the other little moans and whimpers she had been giving off.  She slid herself up, propping herself on her elbows as she looked over the scene, trying to determine if she was still dreaming or not.

"Ambrose," she called out softly, looking down to where he was crawling between her legs.  It was a soft, inquisitive question, as if unsure he was really there - or awake.

Ambrose eyes turned up to hers, still the feral yellow from the day before, realizing that she was awake.  His stomach churned, embarrassed, as if he’d been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.  And yet, he couldn’t quite pull himself away.  It felt almost as if he were being pulled forward along by the allure. 

This wasn’t what the spell stipulated, a little tempting voice called in his head.  There was no harm in this… right? 

The kiss was so magical the day before… what might this be like?

“This… is what you want as well… isn’t it?” He asked softly, a finger tracing softly upwards along her thigh. 

Angelina swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry.  Her body ached with desire, especially as her eyes linked with his.  The connection - the hunger - in them was unmistakable.  She gave an almost imperceivable nod her fingers already gripping the plush grass under them as she felt her body react in anticipation. 

Ambrose was flushed, and he could feel the heat coming from within her panties, nearly taste it.  He felt starving, but only this could satisfy it. 

“Just a kiss,” he crooned, remembering the day before, crawling forward just a bit more, reaching up under her skirt, a finger hooking the waistband of her panties. “A sweet kiss.”  His mouth felt wet with hunger and he licked his lips. 

Angelina took a shuddering breath as she felt his fingers on her skin - like fire.  A part of her rational mind tried to sound the alarm - that this was very out of character for Ambrose.  But her body almost /hurt/ by how badly she wanted him.  She pressed her knees together and lifted her legs, assisting him.

Ambrose felt like he was still dreaming, swimming in warm waters, he felt so heady, and he didn’t want it to end.  As she lifted her hips, he pulled her silky underwear down to her knees in a smooth motion.  Her skin was so hot, and as he crawled forward, closing the last distance and moving his head under the tent of her skirt, he was awash in sensation and desire. 

He pursed his lips and placed a delicate, sensuous kiss right in the center.

His head was hidden from her perspective by the cloth of her skirt, but she could feel his hot breath, his warm hands on her thighs… and then, the fiery kiss.

Her eyes slipped closed, rolling her head back as she felt Ambrose’s lips on her most sensitive of areas.  She spread her knees for him, giving him better access.  One hand untangled for the grass to rake over his shoulders encouragingly.

He kissed once, twice… and then his tongue slipped furtively out, playing over the small nub of her clitoris.  Ambrose murmured unintelligibly, the vibrations of his mouth making her quiver even more.  His back arched as her nails ran over it, and his grip on her legs tightened just a bit as he pressed in, his tongue exploring deeper…

Angelina let a moan slip past her lips as she slid back down onto the floor of the forest.  As his tongue probed, her wandering hand tangled in his hair as her hips twined under him.  She pulled at the grass with her other hand as she breathing became shallow little yelps and moans.  

Her little noises encouraged Ambrose, driving him on.  It was like a secret fantasy that had played out in his mind.  So much so that he lost himself in the moment. Even before all of this… he had had dreams… and daydreams like this.  Being with Angelina… making her quiver… being the only one that mattered to her….

His tongued slid in deeper… and deeper, nearly impossibly so as his lips played over hers in an erotic kiss.  His nails tickled her legs, growing past the tips of his fingers, forming points.

Her eyes rolled back in her head and she bit down on her lip.  She felt the heat rushing over her as he continued.  She gasped at his tongue as it slid down inside her.  She twisted and quivered under his tongue, her body responding in kind.  She was hot and slick and her flesh was yielding and supple. 

His nails trailed over her hyper-sensitive skin, causing her flesh to pimple up in goosebumps.  Her little noises got louder, more encouraging as he went on.

Ambrose growled throatily as he began to lap hungrily at her, his tongue reaching in a little further with each pass.  It was so indulgent, he felt almost drunk off of Angelina herself.  Eagerly wanting more.  Able to think of nothing but that.  Wanting to be the one to make her quiver in pleasure. 

Angelina lost herself in the sensations.  It may have been two minutes or twenty - time seemed to suspend as she felt her body building.  Her body was twitching under his mouth, her breaths getting deeper and more staggered.  Eventually she propped herself back on her elbows as she looked down at him through heavy-lidded eyes, "Ambrose..." she breathed, a raspy, gasping sound.  "I'm coming..." she squeaked out between breaths.

It was a race now, one Ambrose desperately wanted Angelina to win.  His lapping grew faster, deeper as he plunged his tongue in as far as it could go, pulling it back while drawing its length along the top of her canal, flicking the clitoris as he drew it back into his mouth along with another lung-full of her musky scent before starting the process again.  He needed to feel her come.  Taste it… know that he could bring her that level of pleasure.  His fingers squeezed her legs, pulling her closer yet before trailing his long, hard nails up and down her sensitive skin.  

Her hips jerked under him as she came, arching her back as she pulsed around his tongue, letting out a little squeal of delight.  Her thighs pressed against his lengthening nails and her fingers pulled and grasped at the carpet of grass under them as she body spasmed.  And moaned his name as the intensity drifted away, leaving her body a tinging mass on the ground, her breathing slowly starting to even out.

Ambrose made exuberant, encouraging noises as he held her tight as she bucked and quivered in his grasp like a wild animal.  A flood of endorphins surged through Ambrose as well as Angelina cried his name.  Finally, as she lay panting, still basking in the afterglow, Ambrose withdrew his head slowly from under the shade of her skirt, panting with a very long, broad tongue.  He pulled back, running long dark claws lightly down her legs from her thigh to the knees, tickling her legs lightly.  He was virtually seeing stars, he was lost in her essence, in her smell and pleasure.

"Oh my god..." she whispered as she exhaled.  She burst into a giggle fit at the nails trailing down her legs - her skin so sensitive to the touch.  "Ambrose...I..." she had no idea what to say.  She gaped a little at his tongue, blushing as she just put together (in her logical mind at least) how it felt so good.  

Slowly, Ambrose felt like he was emerging from the hazy drunk-like state.  And while he had been aware of and to a degree in control of his actions, it had felt more like he had woken up from a dream all over again, only this time, what had happened was certainly no dream.  And still, seeing Angelina, panties around her knees and skirt hiked up, gasping for breath, cheeks ruddy and beads of sweat on her brow… it was hard to be that resentful.   He looked down at his hands, however, with a wince as he saw rounded black claws tipping each finger.  Embarrassed, though it was probably too late, he withdrew his hands, moving them around to behind his thighs.

As she spoke his name again, breathlessly, he couldn’t help but smile to her, though his cheeks darkened in a blush.  He supposed… he saw what he had been missing.  What everyone bragged about that he had closed his ears to.  “That was… okay… right?” He asked nervously, hoping that as she came out of the lust haze as well, that she wasn’t upset with him…

Angelina gave a near growl of her own as she pulled Ambrose towards her by the collar, kissing him deeply.  She could taste herself on his lips which only made her shiver more - remember what he just did - surprising but so amazing.  She clung to him, kissing him long and hard until she had to come up for air.

Ambrose took that as a very hearty yes.  His long tongue nearly wrapped around her own as he responded enthusiastically to her taking the initiative.  He closed his eyes, reached up and dug his fingers into her hair, his new claws scraping her scalp just hard enough to add an extra intensity to the kiss.  When they finally parted, he was breathing heavily again, his eyes slightly lidded as his unsure expression was replaced by a wolfish grin.

“I’m glad… you approve.” It was hard to regret anything right now.

"You... you are Ambrose, right?" she asked, with only a hint of sarcasm.  She nuzzled his neck, breathing in his scent as the heady, buzzy haze of the post-orgasm washed over her.  "Where did you learn to do that?"

Ambrose shook his head, looking perplexed and surprised with himself, his cheeks coloring again now that he was coming out of his own daze.  “I know… I know… I don’t…. know what came over me.  I just… did… but...”  He looked down at the ground, “I think I am starting to see what the big deal about all of… you know… is.”  He took a breath, daring to meet her eyes again.  “I’m…” He cleared his throat, “A little surprised with myself… All right… more than a little.”  He sat back away from her now, waking up some more.  “But…” His brows furrowed as he held her gaze, “I… don’t regret that it was with you.”

"Good," she said, crawling with him and keeping him close.  Her hands ran down his legs as she began to lay kisses on her jawbone and neck.  "Do I get to return the favor...?" she asked with a purr.

Ambrose blushed furiously.  “Maybe… now isn’t the best time.”  He gulped, “We… should keep moving,”  It seemed to take every ounce of will to say it, as he was already pressing hard against his pants.  “We don’t… want to… get stuck here,”  He eeked out between panting breaths as Angelina lay feather-light kisses over him.  A part of him wanted to growl and pounce her.  To… just… get it over with, and not keep torturing himself like this.  But Ambrose wouldn’t let himself do that. 

Angelina pulled back with a bit of a pout, but she couldn't deny he had a point.  With a bemoaned sigh she stood up, sliding her panties up with her and only then did it seem to register with her what she was wearing.  "What the hell?" she balked, looking down at the perfectly fitted short skirt.  "Wait...when did I...?"  She looked up to Ambrose and his changed featured and swallowed, realizing she probably didn't have room to complain.  "Doesn't matter," she muttered.  "Let's go."  She took his hand in hers, squeezing it affectionately.

Ambrose shook his head with a tight-lipped, worried look, but didn’t say another word.  It was like talking about it made it more real.  He squeezed her hand back, catching her encouraging look, and pushed himself back to his feet and stretched.  Sleeping on the ground – even as soft as it was – couldn’t compare to a real bed like back home.  He grabbed his pack and with a sigh, looked around at the woods. 

B ut when Angelina went for her pack, her hand found a wicker handle… a basket – just like out of the goddamned fairy tale. Her things seemed to be safely tucked inside, but there it was – a big wicker basket with a checkered blanket. She set her jaw and snatched it up resentfully and wordlessly waited for Ambrose to direct them.

It all looked the same as before. No real indication of where the best way to go was other than keep pushing in the direction they had been heading before and hope for the best.

As they walked, the need seemed to build and linger even more than the previous days. Angelina, even having been very satisfied just that morning, felt her mind drifting back to that. How good it felt, and the dreams, and the promise of more. Her eyes would wander to Ambrose and the new features he’d developed… and, as much as she might know that he would be appalled by the thought, knowing that it was wrong to think, but she was finding them… striking. Sexy. They seemed to accentuate his features, making him more handsome. A little voice in her head almost was goading it on, making her wonder what if they were more developed. Oh, not a lot more… but just a little…

For Ambrose, that short skirt of Angelina’s was difficult to draw his eyes away from. The way when she walked it would occasionally flash just a hint of her panties, like a reward for watching her. The sway of her hips was exaggerated to him, and the almost beckoning wave of her cloak, constantly drawing his eyes, and his attention, back to Angelina and away from the path that they were taking.

He kept his hands firmly in his pockets – both to help him avoid temptation, but also because he was embarrassed at the sight of his claws. He could pretend that his facial features weren’t there – he couldn’t see them, after all. But a constant reminder like that was hard for him to deal with. But it didn’t diminish his desire. He felt himself stirring, growing hard at the slightest reminder of sex – which was all too frequent between her skirt, or the occasional whiffs of lingering scent from that morning. It would last longer, too, and he felt so… sensitive – his tip pressed hard against the fly of his pants, almost rubbing it as he walked. And as he walked, and breathed through the arousal, and hoped that Angelina wasn’t noticing, he began to feel other things… like a prickling tickle down his back where his shirt rubbed against… he didn’t want to think about it. Or noticing the front of his shirt rubbing against his hard nipples… or how the sensation seemed mirrored further down his chest and stomach. But he resolutely refused to look.

He needed to distract himself, somehow.

“Uhm…” He began brilliantly, “Had you given any more thought to … ah… what you want to do after High School?”

Ambrose's voice shook Angelina from her current daydream.  "Huh?"  She looked and him a frown played over her mouth.  Another reminder that he would be gone come fall... "Oh, I don't know..." she said, honestly.  "Maybe stick around here until I get enough money to move to Austin.  See if I can focus on some songs or something."

Ambrose nodded, swallowing and focusing on her words, on the subject matter and not the things he wanted to do to her. “You really should think about college… even if you start with community…” He’d had this conversation before; he was mostly trying to distract himself. “Maybe we could go to college in the same city…”

Angelina looked over to him, locking eyes with him, and unable to shake how intense his gaze looked in their current state.  "I... but you're going to go off to college in like... Yale or something.  I can't even afford to move across the state."  She rolled her shoulders, "Anyway, I want to do music."

Ambrose shrugged, though once he held Angelina’s gaze, it was difficult to look away. Her big blue eyes, her bright red lips… cheeks just a little flushed. “I don’t know. That’s one option. The other…” He shrugged, catching sight of the sway of her hips. “I do something closer to you, maybe… I finally step off that neat path that they laid out for me.” He snorted, “Smell the flowers.”

She was quiet for a few moments, though she was unable to look away.  "Don't... you know… for me..." she swallowed.  She couldn't comprehend him risking his bright future for her behalf - but t was a great feeling that he would even consider it.  "Maybe... only if you focus on your fencing."

Ambrose rolled his shoulders, “That’s what I was thinking. It’s… an option at the very least,” he qualified, “I don’t know how many options I’ll have down that road… but at least it would be my choice.” Talking about the future like this – it was better than indulging the terrifying idea that they might never even have that choice, if the spell was real – and evidence to support it was becoming too strong for even Ambrose to deny – then they might be stuck here for… He shook his head, breaking Angelina’s gaze.

Don’t think about that.

"As long as you're doing it for the right reasons," she said, slipping her hand into his.  "I mean, I don't want your confidence shaken.  You'd be an amazing doctor, if that's what you want to do.  But I've seen the way your eyes light up when you're fencing.  It's your passion, you know?"

“I know.” Ambrose echoed. Passion. He did have a passion for fencing, but why… why didn’t he see how important she was to him before now? This…. Passion. He winced as he felt the pressing need again against his fly and angled his body a little as they walked, hoping she wouldn’t notice.

“Maybe I can make it work. And hell, maybe taking it at my own pace, I could major in biology… medicine… see if I actually like it without my parents looking over my shoulder. Make time for fencing…”

"I think if you want to focus on fencing, you should focus on fencing," she said with a little sigh.  "I don't know... it just seems like so late in the game - like you're having cold feet or something.  These are important decisions, you know."

“I know they are, and that’s why they’ve been weighing on me so much.” He groaned, “I just… I don’t know. I’ve just been trying so damn hard not to disappoint them, and I don’t know if anything is going to change. How much of my life am I going to spend letting them choose everything for me.” He gesticulated in his frustration, pulling his hands from his pockets and clawed at the air. Finally, realizing what he was doing, he shoved them back in in irritation, feeling the prickling along his back again, rubbing at his shirt, and shuddered. He took a few steadying breaths, a common stress exercise for the pent-up teen. “But regardless… it’s probably not a decision I’m going to make today… but… I’ll put some more applications out to ‘back up colleges’ and leave that door open…. But you should do the same. Apply for some scholarships. See what happens. You can always study music, too.”

Angelina sighed, looking slightly agitated herself.  "What?  Would I not be good enough to be your girlfriend if I didn't go to college," she snapped, immediately regretting saying it.  "I'm sorry - I didn't - "

Ambrose blinked, mouth gaping open, “No! No… that’s not what I meant at all!” He responded defensively, “I just think… well, it would be good for you. I care about you. And I don’t want to see you miss out on any opportunity either.” His lip curled. But as much as he hated to admit it, the argument helped distract him from other things.

"I'll have better opportunity to break into the music scene if I'm still young," she countered, then signed.  "I don't know.  I just... I just feel like you think I'm wouldn't be good enough because I don't want to go to college."  She frowned, having felt like this before.  She often thought, on a practical level, that she wouldn't be good enough for him.

“I just don’t see why you couldn’t do both.” He shrugged. “Especially away from home, able to focus on what’s important,” He glanced back to her. “And… I think you’re a remarkable young woman. I just don’t want to see you squandering an opportunity. I know it’s a competitive business. Not that I’m saying you aren’t very talented. It’s just…” He shrugged, feeling like he was probably putting his foot in his mouth, “I care about you. And I don’t want to see you … stuck doing something you hate if you don’t make it.”

He slowed down, looking up at the sky as it was starting to tinge a darker purple. Was it getting dusk already? It was hard keeping track of time, especially with his phone having run out of charge, but it felt like they were already on the clock to find their way out, and already another day down…

She shrugged. "I don't know.  Maybe," she said, crossing her arms.  "But you make it sound like I'm going to fail.  Or I can't ... be a decent person just because I don't go to college."  She shrugged, "Maybe community college or something.  It's not like I have to decide right now."  She followed his gaze up to the sky. "Thinking we should set up some kind of camp or something soon?"

“I just think it’s the best philosophy to hope for the best, but plan for the worst.” He smiled to her. “It can’t hurt to send in some college and scholarship applications when we get back.” When, not if. “You never know what opportunities might present themselves. Don’t sell yourself short. And I know that you’re a good, decent person.” He stopped, risking physical contact again to squeeze her shoulder.

He looked up to the sky again with a frown of worry and nodded. “I don’t think we should press it and keep going till dark. It gets… cold… and very, very dark here after sunset. We could build a fire before that, maybe make things a little more comfortable, find something to eat.” He shrugged.

"Sounds good," she said, though she couldn't hide the disappointment in her voice for another day come and gone.

Ambrose nodded, hearing the worry in her voice, but not wanting to bring up that subject. He set down his pack and unzipped it, pulling out the rope, tied one end to his belt again and passed her the other side.

“Why don’t you gather some firewood and clear out a part of this little clearing for the fire. I’ll see if I can scare up anything to eat for the evening aside from more berries.”

She nodded, taking the end of the rope and set out work.  She was tired, feeling oddly frustrated and uncertain, using her skirt as a makeshift bag for the twigs and the wood she was collecting.  Whenever she felt uneasy she would tug on the rope slightly - just enough to comfort herself and know he was still there on the other end.

It was nice knowing that Angelina was connected to him in some fashion, even if she was out of sight. He felt a little silly lending credibility to the concept of the forest being… enchanted to make it easier to get lost. But not silly enough that he wasn’t going to take precautions.

Once he was out of sight of Angelina, he winced, chewed his lip in apprehension and slowly rolled up his shirt. He had been feeling… odd all day, and he couldn’t bear to look earlier. Not in front of Angelina. But as he looked down on his torso, he shuddered. It was getting worse. Two more sets of vestigial nipples lined his stomach, and there was thicker hair… no… fur trailing down from his belly button to his pants, and reaching around, he could feel it on his back as well. Squeezing his eyes shut, he tugged his shirt back down, swearing under his breath.

It was so unreal, and yet the sensations, the feelings and urges… this was no dream. As much as he just wanted to wake up from it.

His stomach growled, demandingly, and he set his mind to the task at hand. He saw more of the same berries, and collected a few of them, but kept his eyes open, and moved quietly, hoping to find something more savory. Kneeling down, he lashed his knife to a long branch and waited for a few minutes, ears twitching and swiveling… listening. In the distance, at the end of the dragging rope, he could hear Angelina picking through the woods. Lifting his nose, he could – maybe it was just his imagination – smell traces of her. But there was more than that… something else moving in the branches. Turning his eyes up, he saw a small, furry creature skittering through the branches. A squirrel. He gripped the branch in his hands, watched it carefully… aimed… and struck quickly, like an epee.

*
By the time Angelina had made it back to camp, cleared a pit for the fire and was getting it started, she felt the rope slacken and heard it rustling through the woods. A few minutes later, Ambrose reappeared, carrying a small, skinned animal on the end of a stick.

“I hope you like squirrel.” He said, trying to make light of the situation.

"Guess there's a first time for everything," she said, visibly relieved to see him coming back into their makeshift campsite.  She smiled to him and finished fussing with the fire.  "Honestly, it sounds really good.  I had no idea you would be so good at hunting."

“Yeah, me neither,” Ambrose said with a bit of a wince as he came to sit down beside her and help stoke the fire. He hoped she didn’t notice that there was a leg missing from this one, too.

Ambrose settled into a more comfortable position, and began to roast the squirrel, listening to it begin to pop and crackle and begin to fill the camp with a savory smell. “Thank you… for… helping with all of this.” He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I think you’re taking this better than I am.”

"Maybe," she admitted, sitting down close to him as they cooled off the squirrel.  "Or maybe I'm just better at... handling things.  Or pretending to at least."  She tossed a few fallen leaves into the fire idly, watching them burst into little flames.  "You can't even imagine how many times in my life I wished I could wander away into the woods and never come back," she said quietly, looking away.  "I'd trade being lost in the woods with you over..." she trailed off, "well, over a lot of stuff that's happened to me.  It’s hard to consider this a real nightmare, I guess."

A brief wince crossed Ambrose’s face as he remembered some of the terrible things that Angelina had told him had happened to her. His ears flicked back expressively. “I suppose when you put it like that…” he conceded quietly. “But I hope that things have not been that terrible for you recently… that… you see that there are other options for you other than just… abandoning reality.” He reached over and placed a hand tentatively on top of hers, frowning as he saw the increasing disparity between his larger, clawed hand with a tiny dusting of hair along the backs, and her smooth, small hands. “But I’m glad that you’re not alone in this. I… I really like you, Angelina. And I don’t want to see bad things happen to you again, not if I can help it.”

"Ambrose, I..."  she squeezed his hands, intertwining his fingers with hers.  "...thank you."  A part of her, however, wasn't convinced he would feel the same way once they got out of here.  If they got out of here. She learned forward and pressed her lips against his tenderly.  She had been wanting to do this all day, and the calm, thick blanket of night offered her the perfect opportunity.

There was just a moment of surprise that faded into a perfect, blissful kiss as Ambrose relaxed and closed his eyes. No matter what else was going on… this was right. He reached back, stroking the back of her head and deepening the kiss. Trying to keep in his mind not to go too far. A kiss was wonderful… innocent… and confirming how he felt for her… but there would be time for more later… when they got out of here… But it was so hard to pull himself away.

She held the kiss until she needed to come up for air - the squirrel temporarily forgotten as a new, different hunger blossomed over her body.  She looked to him with half-lidded eyes before her gazed dropped lower, her hands wandering to the waistband of his pants.

Ambrose growled throatily, encouragingly, the active part of his mind being snared by the moment… he was just pausing, breathing heavily, feeling the pressure in his pants, eager for the release that Angelina’s fingers would cause when the smoke of burning squirrel and curling smoke caught in their noses and caused Ambrose to cough, pulling out of it, jerking the rabbit back out of the fire and breathing heavily.

“Aah,” Ambrose squelched, that was close. “We shouldn’t.” He said quickly, placing a steadying hand over hers and bringing the dinner up between them.

"That will still be here when we're done," she cooed, hands unlatching the buttons of his pants.  "Anyway... I owe you one, right?"  She let her hands rub over the straining bulge in the front of his pants, squeezing gently.

She could almost make out a perfect silhouette of it, it was straining so hard against his pants with her encouragements. She could feel the heat, and almost feel the tension as it responded to her touch. “Angelina…” He breathed, gritting his teeth, and trying to keep his head about him… as… amazing… and fantastic… as it felt. If her hands felt that wonderful… what would her lips feel like…? Her scarlet, lush lips…

“No!” He gasped, “We… we have to be good… As much… as I want to… ” He whined. “We can beat this…” But how much longer could he hold it off…?

She pouted, leaning back a bit and crossing her arms.  "But... this morning..."

She gave a heavy sigh, her body aching and not wanting give up so easily.

Ambrose remembered that morning – the taste, her quivering body… the smell… he could smell it again now. She was so warm… supple… She could see the desire in his eyes as he watched her move, every inflection seeming to be a beckon. He moved to reach towards her again, and felt the brush of his shirt over fur along his back, snapping him back to the very direct consequences. “Later… I… I promise… please…” he edged. Though Angelina knew that this desire wouldn’t abate until it was met. “We… can’t give up yet.”

“Let’s… have dinner… get to bed… take things… a little at a time… and we can do this.”
He sunk his teeth deeply into the roasted squirrel, taking out some of his frustration with a rather violent bite and tearing off of its other leg.

Angelina twisted, unsatisfied.  She picked at the squirrel - but despite not having eaten anything substantial all day it just didn't taste... right.  Bland.  It wasn't what she wanted.  She let her mind drift to later that evening... snuggling up to close to Ambrose.  Being so close to him, her arms around him...

Ambrose could tell Angelina wasn’t happy, and a part of him wanted to bring her that satisfaction… bring it to them both… but he couldn’t’ overlook the consequences… bottling… and bottling down that desire. The squirrel was absolutely savory, though he couldn’t help but admit to himself that the taste of it raw and bloody, still hot from life. And there was something else he wanted on his tongue again… He winced, rubbing at his temples.

Still… being next to Angelina… chastely… it … sounded nice. Warm…

He finished off the rest of what he wanted of the cooked squirrel after Angelina had finished with it and tossed it into the fire. “Why don’t you lie with me… we’ll sleep… maybe… that will help,” He tried, optimistically.

Angelina nodded, the idea of being close to Ambrose - just sleeping - was still an attractive thought.  She crawled close to him, wrapping her arms around him.  "I don't think I can sleep," she said honestly, her hands trailing over him.  "I want you so bad," she whispered hotly in his wolfish ears.  "The dream...the dream didn't say we couldn't do anything."

Gooseflesh rose up and down Ambrose’s neck and arms as she whispered in his sensitive ears. How was he going to continue to hold out… against this. “One… one more night,” He whispered pleadingly. “Let’s try to … hold this off… as much as we can. Giving in… seems to just make it … stronger.” It was hard to say most of these words without thinking of the double implications behind them. He held her close, laying with her in the grass, breathing her in, holding her tightly… “Just… close your eyes… lie with me…”

She pouted again, but did as he asked. She rested her head on his chest and tried to relax to the sound of the rhythmic beating of his heart.  "At least in my dreams I get to fuck you," she said with a wicked smirk, feeling the hard press of his erection on her stomach.

Ambrose whimpered, wanting her so badly, and her sniping remark served to make him feel guilty of all things for trying to be strong. “If we make it out of this… I will fuck you like there is no tomorrow,” He growled uncharacteristically.

Angelina responded with a whimper of her own, her hands tightening into fists around his shirt. "Promise?" she whispered huskily against the skin of his neck, nipping lightly.  She breathed out heavily and forced her eyes close, trying to sleep.

“Oh yes…” Ambrose crooned, picturing the finish line… making it out, back home… to safety… and maintaining his promise… a reward for holding out. Doing it right.

It was becoming harder and harder to determine when reality ended and the dreams began. Reality had already become so surreal, that often the dreams seemed just as grounded in reality than their waking lives. Angelina was laying in Ambrose’s arms, his paws wrapped protectively around her, warmer and more of a shield against the darkness and cold than a campfire could ever be. And while he was a massive, feral wolf, it seemed absolutely right. He had such an intensity, such a protective, strong air. And Angelina felt so good in his hold, warm, comfortable, and… oh so turned on. As they woke, a need woke with both of them as well, Angelina burning to touch him, reaching back around behind her and grasping the hot, hard ‘handle’ that was pressed hard into her back. She turned in his grasp, her eyes drawn to it, and her mouth began to water, aching to wrap around it. It was massive, bulging at the bottom with a pointed tip, a furry sheath retracted and exposing its veiny, hot shaft. It was… mesmerizing. Perfect. How it should be. She had to have it, had to taste it. Her whole being ached to feel it, in her hands… in her mouth… feeling it throb and quiver… It was the desire from the day spilling over into her dreams and magnified. She couldn’t help herself, she was pulled to it like a magnet.

She leaned over, arcing her back and wrapped her lips around the tip, her tongue just tasting the tip, her whole body wanting more… aching for it as the wolf growled encouragingly, golden eyes locking with her…

.

.

.

And she swam to consciousness with a gasp. The last of the fire was slowly guttering, the sky still mostly dark, but tinged with just the hint of violet of the promise of dawn. But the chill was still in the air, as was the velvety intrigue of the night. The dream was still very fresh on her mind, wrapping her in the need that had gone unsatisfied from the night before. Sleeping hadn’t diminished her desire in the least. She positively ached with it. And there was another ache… though one of a different sort . She felt so breathless with desire, though it was hard to quite take deep, head-clearing lungful of night air. But… for some reason, it kind of felt nice… disorienting just a little bit, and a feeling of being held and constricted… and looking down, she could see the source: her shirt had changed through the night to the corset that she had been wearing in her dreams. But as real as the dreams were, feeling it around her, her breasts pressed against it. In the early morning light her breasts looked so creamy and pale… and so large the way they were held together and partially covered by the corset. She felt… so sexy… twisting and twining in the soft grass… and she could feel him, pressed against her.

Looking over to Ambrose, she saw him, virtually writhing in the grass. His erection was so obvious in his tight pants that she could make out a perfectly clear outline of him in them. The long shaft of his penis, the head pressing needfully against the fly, even the bulge of his testicles were obvious – seemingly large and heavy in his pants. In his sleep, he had worked his shirt up, revealing the new features that Ambrose had been embarrassed by and hidden during the day. One of his hands had strayedto his stomach where it lingered near his waistband, a finger rubbing his trail of happiness that looked more like thick, cream-colored fur than any kind of human hair. Additional nipples were exposed to the night air and beaded erect… and Angelina found herself wanting to run her hand along them, tease them… almost as much as she wanted to free him from his pants and wrap her mouth around him… finish the dream. And even though he was still sleeping… a deep, powerfully sexy growl echoed from his throat and chest – and sounded like a true animal’s – not a pale facsimile of a human imitation. Between his breaths that she watched the rise and fall of his chest… and then, softly, almost as growly as his wordless lupine snarl was her name… ‘Angelina’ growled longingly on his breath.

Angelina felt like she would positively go mad if she didn’t do something about her need then and there. The binding clutches of the corset around her waist and over her sensitive nipples seeming to squeeze her more as she waited.

She couldn't go on like this.  She didn't want to.  She crawled over him, straddling him.  She raked her nails lightly over his skin, leaning down and flicking her hot tongue over his nipples - one at time - all six of them.  She let her hair trail over his torso, trying to rouse him from his slumber. 

Goosebumps rose along his stomach, and she could see fur raising along his back as he squirmed a little in pleasure. Ambrose murmured again, writhing on the grass, his mouth opening into a tongue-lolling smile as he moaned under her attention. His pants seemed to be straining against the bulge of his erection. The dream was blending with reality now, but Ambrose wasn’t quite fully awake yet. “Angelina…” He moaned again… “yes…”

That was all the encouragement she needed.  Her hands went to the waistband of his pants and struggled to unbutton the fly - the strain of his erection underneath making it splendidly difficult to free.  She smiled up at him as she worked, finally feeling the buttons fly open and the zipper slide down almost without assistance.

The erection was huge. She had seen him nude when they had gone skinny dipping, but fully erect, it was a wonder that she had never heard Ambrose brag, for he certainly had something to be proud of. There was a spot of moisture on his boxer-briefs that still (barely) contained his hard cock. His hips rocked and bucked just slightly as some of the strain was released and he growled throatily again. The fingers of consciousness were pulling at him, but the attentions he was receiving in his dream were hard to detangle from what was really going on. But he ached for attention, and as his eyes began to flutter, it hit him anew with a throbbing, demanding call.

She growled her approval, jerking his pants down his hips and looping her thumbs in the waistband of his boxer-briefs.  She struggled to free his massive erection, smiling triumphantly when the underwear slid down his hips. 
And yet, when she saw it, she couldn’t help but feel a tinge of it being… wrong. Not as a part of her wanted it to be. But the little voice in the back of her head seemed to whisper to her: maybe she could fix it.
She wasted no time in wrapping her hands around him, feeling the pulse of his need.  She pressed her breasts, proudly displayed in the new corset, against him, looking up at him for approval.

Ambrose woke fully to a monstrous need. He could feel her on him, his whole cock pulsing with lust. It needed the attention, and even as he began to realize that seeing Angelina down there, poised over him was no dream… he couldn’t bear the idea of pulling himself from her grasp. “ohgod..” He gasped, looking down at her, her breasts pressed up around him, fully exposed. And yet, what might have normally been met with a flash of embarrassment or self-consciousness, it now just spurred him on. Seeing her down there, the center of her attention… He didn’t just want more, but… needed it. He chewed his lip. “Angelina…” He repeated, hips bucking again, almost on their own accord. “We shouldn’t…” he whispered, but it was almost out of habit. This wasn’t a dream… but… she was right… the dream didn’t forbid… this. She was just silently promising to reciprocate what he had already done… And the thought of getting up and going about the day, breaking this off seemed like an impossible task. “But… but…” He moaned again, pressing his hips harder again, back and forth, feeling her hands wrapped around him. His claws dug into the ground besides him.

"shhh..." she whispered to him, scooting down further to take Ambrose into her mouth.  He was massive, but she ran her tongue up the bottom of his shaft from balls to tip before taking his head in her mouth, while her hands wrapped hungrily around the base of him, giving him pleasure where her mouth could not reach. 

It was a fantasy come to life. He craned his neck to look down at her… the arc of her back showing the short skirt… that corset wrapped around her tight waist... if this was part of the dream, he didn’t want to wake up. And if not…. His mind swam as her hot mouth took in his tip, moaning loudly in pleasure. He had never felt anything like this before. He gripped the ground harder, pressing his hips against her again.

He was so hot and hard in her grasp. A proud spire that was absolutely amazing in her mouth, and yet… it wasn’t quite right yet. It wasn’t like her dream. It was still… normal. Human. A small, seductive idea in the back of her head wanted her to fix that. And as she took him in her mouth, and in her hands, each pulse seemed to make him… a little larger. She could feel the head becoming… a little pointed in her mouth… feel the base of it swell in her cupped hands.

And Ambrose… felt absolutely… mindblowingly… amazing. He couldn’t pull back if he wanted, “Y… yes…. God… Angelina…” He murmured.

She hummed her encouragement as she felt him change in her hands.  She continued to fondle him enthusiastically, egging it on, wanting to reshape him to how he ought to be, her head bobbing over him as she continued to suck and lick hungrily.  She let her tongue swirl around the tip, her hands splaying over the swelling in his base. 

Patches of fur began to spread over his thighs and down his legs, tickling her exposed chest as she continued. And for Ambrose, the pressure continued to build, more… and more… driving him absolutely crazy with need for release. But each throb just seemed to make him a little bigger, a little different. He couldn’t stop now if he wanted to, he was past that point of no return, but each time he thought he was going to finally spill over, it just took him a little higher.

Angelina craved that spasm… to taste him… but seeing the effect she was visibly having on him was powerfully erotic.

She pulled her mouth away from him - but just for a moment.  Just enough to flash him a smile, the lust shining obviously in her eyes.  She cupped his testicles and then went back to work, licking up his shaft as her hands began to run through the thickening tail, tangling just slightly.  Her hot mouth went over his head again, sucking with the perfect blend of affection and lust.

The still-short, but thickening tail flicked as Ambrose felt the pressure mount still, feeling it in the base of his spine… in his feet. As she paused, he gasped, looking down quickly, “No... please… don’t stop!” He reached down, gripping her hair, claws running across her scalp as he urged her on. He could feel the stirring beast in his breast: growling… hungry… needy. He grit his teeth as she returned her attention, growling deeply. He kicked out with a leg in a spasm, his toes stretching in his socks, tips of claws catching in the fabric.

"Yess...." she murmured around him as he continued to change.  She loved the feel of his claws in her hair as she continued to suck and lick.  One of her hands slid down her body, slipping under her skirt as she her free hand continued to slide up and down the shaft as she suckled his glands and bobbed her head over him.

Angelina’s short skirt was highly accessible, making it very easy to slip her fingers into her panties.

The smell of her just goaded him on more, as he visualized finding that sweet spot himself. But the feel of her lips tightly around him… burning perfectly hot. His knot swelled larger at her ministrations and a velvety-furred sheath began to form around him and slide down, exposing him just a little more.

His feet began to stretch, toes spreading wider, thickening as pads developed on their base. But he didn’t notice. All he felt was a building, mounting pressure. He felt like he was going to go crazy if he didn’t come, he was spiraling higher, higher. He growled deeply, thrusting hard into her mouth. He was on fire!

She moaned against him as her fingers slid between her own folds.  She looked up at him, still holding him in her mouth.  She nodded to him encouragingly, feeling like she would starve if she didn't taste him - and soon.  Maybe if only she could get him to come, they could stave off the lust for another day or two. 

Her body was slick and hot and yielding beneath her fingers as she touched herself, her moans growing louder and her own orgasm built at an alarming speed.

Ambrose gasped, eyes wide as his whole body began to uncontrollably as he felt that insufferable dam crack… and then explode as he broke through, howling out as he came. It was dizzying, mind-wiping and the most intense sensation Ambrose could ever imagine, let alone remember. And even as hot, salty seed spewed into Angelina’s mouth, it was like miraculous water when she was dying of thirst.

Angelina's eyes shot open in surprise as she felt her own body spasm as his seed hit her tongue.  She let out a cry as her body pulsed before returning to work swallowing and licking Ambrose as he continued to come in her mouth.  She withdrew her fingers from her panties and grasped him in both her hands, milking him for every last drop.

His whole body shuddered as the orgasm lasted longer and harder than any he’d felt before… although Ambrose had spent much of his young adult life denying the fact that he needed that sort of thing, treating it like maintenance rather than the amazing… thing that he had been opened to.

However, as Ambrose’s breathing finally began to even out, little spots of clarity began to pierce the cloudy blanket of his post-coital mind. Everything was hyper-sensitive. He could feel a thick brush of fur against his pants, all the way down to his feet. His socks felt tight, and as he lifted a leg to look better, he saw them stretched to the limits around the ends. At the toes of the socks, the telltale points of claws pierced them. With a frown, and a swift motion, he yanked off one of them, revealing huge, fully developed hindpaws. It was a splash of cold water. And as his eyes trailed up, his pants down around his knees, grey-cream fur covered his thighs and all the way up to his hips where he saw an unmistakable canine phallus slowly starting to recede into a furry sheath. It looked… so alien, so…. Animal. Like he was looking at something else… certainly not himself. He was stunned silent, mortified… mournful. He shook his head, ears pinning back, appalled at what he had become, but still… unable to deny the sheer, overwhelming pleasure he had just experienced.

Angelina, too, began to wake as her own orgasm settled down. And while she felt relaxed and blissfully sated – for the moment at least – it brought with it a moment of full clarity of the situation.

Angelina wiped her mouth with the back of her hand as she looked over Ambrose along with him.  She crawled up and settled closer to him, risking making eye contact finally, a slight blush on her face - then a bit of guilt.  She knew he was upset and panicking over the changes - which is why he didn't want to do anything in the first place.  She silently hoped he wouldn't be upset with her, as she pulled her knees to her chest and waited for him to say something.

Obviously in a bit of shock, Ambrose mechanically worked his pants back up and around his hips, gritting his teeth as he buttoned his fly, shoving the small tail down in there – out of sight. He winced as he looked to Angelina, feeling ashamed of himself more than pinning any kind of blame on her. He hadn’t exactly said no… he’d egged her on. He’d wanted it. And now things had gotten worse. Ambrose was used to shouldering the blame for things, for taking guilt onto himself, and this was no exception.

He ran his fingers through his hair, trying to smooth out his hair, regain some kind of sense of decorum. His eyes darted around the clearing, finally setting on Angelina. He could see her anxiety… the guilt on her face…the worry. His brows knit and he slipped an arm around her shoulders, giving her a small squeeze. “We…. We need to find a way out of here… today.” He swallowed. He tried to focus on the task ahead… not what had just happened.

She just nodded.  She didn't know if she could hold off another day without feeling him inside her.  But...

...she couldn't help but wonder.  This place was beautiful... and everything seemed so simple and straightforward.  The idea of having Ambrose by her side, protecting her, spending her days with him by her side and the nights making love with him - bestial, passionate. 

She gave a heavy sigh and stood up, adjusting her clothes and looking off into the distance. 

Ambrose rubbed his face, clearing away the dregs of sleep and… satisfaction. Ambrose wasn’t willing to entertain the notion of defeat. Not yet. It was a new day, and it wasn’t too late. And maybe the … session with Angelina… could help him focus.

He stood up, stumbling a bit as he wasn’t prepared for the shift of balance on his changed feet, catching himself against a tree. Angelina could see that pride tested again as he grit his teeth and tried to pretend that that didn’t happen.

Finally, the shaking in his legs subsided and he swallowed again, looking to Angelina, and the fact hit him that he should say something. About what she did… for him. Something that he’d never had done to him before.

He whet his lips. “Thank you… Angelina,” He was having a hard time looking her in the eyes, “I… I’ve never… you…” He growled in frustration in not finding the words that he was looking for. “You… you’re really good at that.” He winced as soon as he said it.

"Not that you would know if I wasn't," she said and nudged him a bit playfully - though it was obvious she seemed distracted.  "But uh... you're welcome."  She reached out for his hand, walking with him and (if he needed it) helping his balance.  But she never said anything in fear of embarrassing him. 

There was actually a hint of a smirk on his face. “Touché,’” he replied, not commenting on the fact that he did accept her support as he found his footing.

He took another breath, looking over to the rising sun, and the traces of the way they’d come. “Might as well continue in the same direction,” He commented needlessly, but gave her hand a squeeze and a sad smile. He felt more clear-headed at least, right then, than he had all the day before.

And they set off. Ambrose was slower and unsteady for a time, but as they walked, he fell into more of a rhythm, and Angelina noticed him relying less on her for balance. By the end of the hour, he was striding confidently on his lupine legs. However, about by the end of the hour, flickers of arousal began to rear its head again already. Ambrose found himself looking over to Angelina, and her new outfit – the tight corset, the short skirt, the red cloak… it was a full picture, and it was … Really sexy. And he couldn’t get her scent out of his nose. He found himself lifting his nose more, inhaling…

And Angelina couldn’t help but find the changes that had reshaped Ambrose… intriguing. Knowing what the sway in her hips was doing to him…

"Ambrose..." she ventured as the day went on.  "What... if we can't get out?" she asked quietly, avoiding his eyes.  "I mean, how long as we going to do this?  What if its too late?"

“It’s not too late!” He answered quickly, ears pinning back. He looked over to her, frowning. “You don’t want to be stuck here, do you?”

She opened her mouth to deny it... but it came out more like a "...ehh..." and an awkward shrug of her shoulders.  "We're in a whole 'nother world, Ambrose.  I mean, did you ever consider, maybe, I mean..."

She sighed and ran her fingers through her hair.  "I don't know.  I'm just fucking tired of walking.  I want to either go home get on with our lives..."

His lips curled in a bitter snarl. “I don’t want to be stuck… in some forest. I’ve not seen another bloody person since we got here. This isn’t home. I have a future back there… even if I haven’t decided what I want, I don’t want to be some animal in some endless woods! What kind of life is that?” His hackles were very literally bristling, rustling against his shirt.

“I don’t know how you’re taking all of this so well. I want to go home too, get on with our lives. There is no other alternative. There’s got to be something we’re missing.”

"I guess," she whispered, hugging her arms to herself.  "I don't know what.  Maybe we fucked up by doing... anything.  I just... ugh!  I just want to be with you, Ambrose.  Whether that's home or here or...whatever.  I just can't stand another fucking day of walking and getting nowhere."

“You don’t know that,” Ambrose winced, “You don’t know that this won’t work… how do we know that you’re not talking about giving up when today we might find our way back.”

He growled, animalistically, looking around at the trees, looking for some kind of hidden clue like an arrow or other indication that he just missed, but was just faced with the same tree trunks and irritatingly cheerful flowers and lush grass and berries.

“What do you want, Angelina? My opinion notwithstanding… what would you do given the choice?”

"You," she said honestly, casting a look at him.  "I...  I don't have a lot back home to look forward to, like you do.  I'm scared, Ambrose.  To be honest, it terrifies me."

Ambrose stopped, turning to actually face Angelina, and listen to her, to her apprehensions. After a moment, he took both her hands in his larger, clawed hands. They looked a little bigger than she remembered, but the focus was more on the intensity of his eyes. “Maybe we both were trying to escape – responsibilities… hopelessness…” He whet his lips, continuing to talk. “If anything, I think that this has shown us what we’ve been too blind to see for… God… more than three years. To see each other… and how we each have something to show the other. But... maybe we can’t find our way back unless we both want to. I can’t be scared of my future… scared to make a decision. God, I should be excited about it, not dreading it. Take control of it. Do what I want to. And... I want to do it with you.”

"So let's make a decision," she said, squeezing his hands.  "Find the school with the BEST fencing program in the country and go.  I'll go with you - I'll make it happen.  I can work on my music, promote it on the internet.  Maybe take some classes online or something.  Maybe we can... move in together or something?"

Ambrose smiled. For the first time in a long time, he was feeling optimistic about his future. And having someone important to him to spend it with. “It’s a promise.” He said emphatically, “That sounds… perfect. We will make this happen. We’ll get out of here, and we’ll set this path. And my parents will have to learn to deal with it… and if I make them proud doing what I want to do… then all the better. And if not… at least I’m living for myself.”

Angelina squeezed his hands and pulled him into a kiss.  "It does sound a bit perfect, doesn't it?" She threw him an encouraging smile and pulled him close.  "So, how are we getting out of here?  Just keep walking?  Should we be... I don't know?  Looking for something?"

Ambrose hesitated, thinking. He cast his eyes around the woods, looking for some new clue or shining miraculous light or rainbow leading him in a given direction… nothing. His lip curled in irritation, and he was heaving a sigh of irritation… when something caught him. Not his eyes… his nose. The scent of water – clean, crisp water, and memories flashed of the first night they’d spent outside by the lake. His ears pricked. It wasn’t much… but it was something.

He glanced back to Angelina. “I smell…” He winced, hating to admit how he had figured it out, “I smell that lake… I think the one we…” he cleared his throat, “You know… swam in?”

"Yes!" she exclaimed, tightening her grip on his hands.  "We should go back and swim in that lake!  Maybe that's what triggered this...this... whatever the hell this is..."

Ambrose squeezed her hand back, a hopeful gleam in his eyes, “Maybe… maybe you’re right. At the very least… it’s the way we came from. It should be close to where we left the tent!” He whet his lips and placed one foot… no... paw in front of the other and set off in the direction of the water.

However, as they walked, the spell did not seem content to let them go just like that. Memories of the skinny dipping swam in both of their minds. Ambrose remembered Angelina’s completely nude form in the sunset, how the water washed over her supple breasts… The thought of swimming with her again… it made him feel warm all over again. At first, it was just a pleasant feeling. The buzzing of arousal in the heady flower-pollen-laden air. But the comfort soon began to develop into a distinct discomfort as his pants began to feel remarkably tight. As he was scenting his way to the lake, he also caught the smell of Angelina. And between his tail that had been unceremoniously stuffed into the back of his pants to get it out of sight and out of mind, and the hardening erection, each step was a strain. It throbbed in his jeans, pressed between his stomach and the cloth, rubbing him. It felt like he was smuggling a coke bottle in his pants. A hard, hot coke bottle. He hardly even realized it as his hand gravitated to his crotch…

And Angelina could plainly see its outline in his trousers – the swollen bottom, the bulge of his testicles, and of course the point pressing against the button of his jeans. And then his hand wandering southwards. At first it just pressing against it as if he were pained or embarrassed, but then the fingers started tracing along the edges, starting to follow a stroking motion.

Angelina watched him, feeling her own body react to watching him.  She licked her lips, meandering closer to him.  "Let me help you with that," she whispered lowly to him, her own hand reaching out and grabbing hold of his.  She groaned... knowing even as she said it how bad of an idea that would be.  But she wanted him...so bad.

“Angelina!” Ambrose breathed with worry and scandal in his voice. He ached for her so badly. Looking over and down to her as her breasts seemed so much larger in the tight, binding corset. Her flesh was fragrant and warm, and little glimpses of pale where her hips swelled beneath her corset and over her skirt, or the expanse of her milky thighs… and her hands – feathery teasing against his pressing need. With all the willpower he could surmise, he placed his hands over hers and shook his head with a pleading, “We… we can make this… one… one more day… we promised each other.” He winced. But he wasn’t entirely sure he could make it one more day. But... he had to. If he ever wanted to go home.

He sniffed the air, looking for the direction again, but it was hard – all he could smell was her. The fragrance of her hair, the musky odor of her need… His sinuses felt – and looked- a little swollen with new sensory receptors and he whimpered with restraint that felt like it was just being held back by sheer ribbon.

He took her hand resolutely, moving it away from his crotch, and began to walk with her, trying to catch the scent again – though this time he was struggling too much with his arousal to sink to the shame of sniffing the air like a dog.

Angelia crossed her arms and gave a pout.  She squeezed her thighs together with a slight whimper, hating to admit he was lost.  "You're driving me crazy Ambrose.." she whined, stomping her feet slightly as he walked away and steeled his nerve.  "How much longer...?"

He panted, looking over to her, eying her from head, over the swell of her bosom, the tightening of her waist and the flare of her hips down to her barely covered cleft between her legs… he shook his head.
“One more day,” He breathed, his voice husky. “If… we can’t fuck- FIND! Find… find… our way back by the end of the day… then… then…” he shook his head, raising a hand to his head, trying to focus, flushing red at the Freudian slip, “Then… you know.” He wasn’t ready to admit defeat, even give word to the possibility of it.

He looked around, but all the trees looked the same. He lifted his head again, smelling Angelina, even having stepped away, it was cloying, like a delectable scent that he just wanted to foll- No!

He looked down at the ground, where their footsteps had come from – the large pawprints that were his own… and he blinked, swallowing again and cast a wincing look to Angelina before he dropped to a knee, inhaling again. He smelled moist earth… myriad animals, information flooded into his mind, and his hands found their way to the grass… it felt… so right… good… being down there… he arched his back as he inhaled. His pants felt so tight… his tail squirming in his pants until it popped free and waved about in the air, swishing a little longer and longer as he got down on the grounds like an animal… But even as the tail freed itself from his pants, they still looked strained to near bursting as Ambrose looked a little larger… his hands starting to reshape as they kneaded the earth. He lowered his nose to the ground, whuffing in a lungful of air…

Seeing Ambrose down on the ground...his tail up and his paws... Angelina physically shuddered she was so turned on.  She has never been this tortuously frustrated before.  It had long gone past sexy and uncomfortable to straight-up painful.  She tried to keep a bit distance, praying it would help.

There it was – the scent of the river. His ears pricked and he looked in the direction. He swore he could hear the soft rippling of water now. But… as he went to straighten up, his body seemed to lock. It was like something was physically pulling him downward to the ground. He gasped, and then moaned as he realized how hot, heavy, … horny… and strong he felt down here like this. His arms, his chest… and he could hear the tearing sound of fabric of his pants as they started to give way to his powerful hind legs. He heard a growling – was that him? Or was it the wolf inside of him trying to pull him and keep him down on the ground?

Angelina couldn’t help but watch as it seemed like despite the normally horrifying changes that were overcoming the young man, it felt more like a display of seduction as he was becoming some dark desire of hers. She watched as his jeans finally gave way, falling in shreds to the ground, and his chest began to barrel outwards.

Finally, with a monumental effort, Ambrose pushed himself away from the ground, catching himself with a paw-like hand against a tree as he breathed deeply and raggedly. His normally straight-backed, perfect posture was hunched.

Trying to not give power to the changes that had seized him, he spoke, “The lake… it’s close… just… a little further,” His voice was deeper… throaty… so… so sexy.

Angelina's breath caught in her throat - she was both incredibly turned on and concerned at the same time. She rushed forward, clutching him.  "Ambrose...." she breathed, holding him.  She loved the feel of his muscles under his thick fur... she was nearly shaking with desire.

Ambrose breathed in, leaning into her touch, eyes hanging on her. As he turned, she got a full look of what he had – somehow – impressively kept hidden in his pants before. He was fully erect, the furry sheath pulled back to expose it – big and swollen, and fully lupine. His shirt was straining now against his barreled chest, his panting breaths deep and audible. He could see the need in her eyes, and knew that he had to move… they were so close to the river…

So he ran the back of a large paw-hand against her cheek before pushing off of the tree, and half-walking, half stumbling towards the river. He felt awkward, ungainly. Just wanting to drop to drop to the ground… and then pounce Angelina.

He stumbled, and broke the treeline with a gasp of short-lived relief. The lake sparkled in the afternoon sunlight, scintillating , inviting. He leaned against a tree, watching it. Was this it, their salvation…? But… was this really the edge of their realm?

He knew Angelina wasn’t far behind him, and leaned against the tree, waiting for her.

Angelina couldn't help but stare at Ambrose for a moment, feeling a bit dizzy for a moment as all her blood seemed to rush to her lower body.  She flushed red before stepping back just enough to allow Ambrose to push off the tree and head off towards the treeline.

She followed, watching him in a mix of concern and arousal.  When they broke the treeline and she saw the lake she broke into a run, heading towards the water - letting her sexual and physical frustration and anxiety fill her with an adrenaline rush.

Ambrose felt compelled to follow on her heels as she ran for the water, stumbling, and struggling to stay upright. His shirt felt tight against his barreling chest, and his erect member, free from his pants and feeling the breeze off the water only made him more aware of the pounding desire.

And as Angelina met the water’s edge, she was very aware of her own restrictive clothing. Her short skirt was tight around her hips. Her panties were riding up and rubbing against her, but most of all was the corset. It was tantalizingly tight. Her chest heaved against it. And it was far too tight for her to remove it by herself. Not with the laced cords in the back. A little, insidious voice in the back of her mind whispered that perhaps Ambrose could help her with that… get behind her… after all… she couldn’t swim in her clothes. And who knew - maybe the Red Riding Hood outfit was part of the cause of this lust…

Standing at the bank, Angelina quickly shed her panties, skirt, and cloak, leaving her standing there, in the sunlight, in nothing but her beautiful, tight corset.  She turned and looked at Ambrose with a come-hither look, twisted her hips and chewing coyly on her fingernail as she waiting for him to come and release her form what suddenly felt like a silk prison. 

Ambrose came to her side, a pawed hand coming to rest on her shoulder as he took in her visage. The late afternoon sunlight highlighting her form, the reflection of the water sending skittering light across her skin… and bottomless. He licked his lips, a lingering, wolfish look of undisguised appreciation.

His own shirt was straining over his furry chest and his other hand gently touched her corseted waist as if it might burn him. “What… what is the matter…?” He panted. His voice was deep, growly…

"I need help getting out of this thing," she said, turning around.  She lifted the hair off her neck as she presented her back to him.  The corset squeezed her already narrow waist - giving her a figure more dramatic than usual.  The flair of her hips was more pronounced, making her bare ass look round and oh so inviting.  She peered over her shoulder to watch him, the hunger burning in her eyes.

“Of… of course,” He growled, leaning forward and starting to fumble with the cords. But his hands felt so clumsy, and as they went to the binding cords, they just felt less and less useful. Angelina could hear the frustration in his tone… and feel his hot breath on the back of her neck. Finally… he was just pawing uselessly at the cords with nothing more than big, heavy paws.

But he wasn’t rationally thinking through her request – how getting her naked probably wouldn’t help matters. She couldn’t swim in that corset, after all. Surely, she could barely breathe in it... with how round it made her backside…

He leaned forward, and got one of the cords between his teeth, and began to worry at the bindings. He started to growl as his teeth snapped the first cord… and then moved onto the next one down…

And Angelina could feel the poking of the point of his phallus rubbing against her leg as he leaned over her…

She gave a small yelp of surprise as she heard the first cord snap.  She arched her back encouragingly, pushing back against him.  She felt the hot, pulsing member press against her backside, the back of her thighs...she didn't pull away.  She let the skin press against her own.

It was difficult at first… but seemed to be becoming easier as his face pushed out into a short, thick muzzle seemingly to facilitate him unbinding Angelina. The buttons on his shirt began to pop as his chest expanded. He clung to her form more now, using her to keep him upright… and working up the Jacob’s ladder of her criss-crossing cords. Subconsciously, his tip was also working its way up her thigh… seeming to hone in on where it needed to go.

“Is this how you want me?” Ambrose growled breathily as he finished a cord and moved towards the next, “A wolf..? An animal?” Angelina couldn’t help but feel her body twinge in desire. Regardless of what she might think, her body was casting its vote for what it wanted. “Or the man I was?”

"I just want you," she panted, stepping her legs apart.  Even with the water of the lake lapping at their feet, Angelina could think of nothing else but how it would feel to have Ambrose's massive length inside her.  "Like this, like how you were... I just want you."  It was true: she loved Ambrose and wanted him.  But at this moment she wouldn't trade his wolf features away even if she had the choice. 

Ambrose answered with a crooning growl. One by one the cords snapped, and the pressure began to release from her waist. Ambrose paws moved around her waist, holding himself up, and her in a very possessive… sexual embrace. And as he worked to the topmost cords that bound her breasts tightly… she could feel it… pressing against her lips... the length of the shaft moving up against her moist folds.

“I want you… so badly…” He growled deeply as his teeth went to the last cords, chewing through them as the corset finally released her from its grasp and fell to the damp ground by her feet.

"I can't wait any longer, Ambrose," she breathed heavily.  "Please....please..."  She bucked her hips towards him, and he could feel how wet and hot she was pressing against him.

His whole body ached for it. He felt drawn towards her… it would be so simple… just to give in… to feel the ecstasy and stop fighting it. It would feel so good… It was getting so hard to keep resisting it… Angelina wanted it…. Wanted him…. And Angelina was everything to him right now – she hadn’t left his thoughts for more than a moment the past day. He needed her.

He angled his hips, breathing heavily as he turned his point towards her. Slowly, the pointed end started to circle her moist lips. Just… a buck of his hips and he’d be inside her…

He looked down at her naked body, arching underneath him… glistening… and his contrasting furred body, his large red phallus poised to enter her. And with an epiphany of realization of what he was about to do dawned on him. His last mote of rejection of this reality – of this fate… the willpower that Ambrose prided himself in, he pushed off of her, stumbling away and onto all fours as he began to run wildly away.

It took Angelina a few moments to realize what had happened. She felt him push away, and half expected him to take her from behind. But a few deep, desperate breathes later, she moaned and opened her eyes, only to find him gone and heading away from her. “Ambrose!” she called, pushing herself up into a sitting position. She felt so frustrated she could cry; she got to her feet and tried to run off after him, calling his name.

Ambrose ran, flying through the woods on all fours like the animal he was so very close to becoming. His long tongue hung from his mouth as he panted, gasping air and trying to clear his head. But as his forepaws dug into the rich, moist earth of the forest, all he could do was think of Angelina, of the woman he had just ran away from. He could feel the throbbing length of his erection pressed against his furry belly, throbbing, demanding to know why he was putting distance between them, why he wasn’t burying it in her moist folds. Getting that final blissful moment that had been eluding him for days. It would have been so easy… so easy… just to angle his hips and plunge into the waiting, dripping cleft between her legs. He had already been behind her, already had his arms wrapped around his waist as he was working to undo the cords along her back. The image was so vivid in his mind. And unlike before, the distance he was putting between them wasn’t helping him clear his mind. His long tongue lolled, dripping saliva as he ran. He didn’t want to be like this! This wasn’t him!

Meanwhile, Angelina felt as if her salvation had just been whisked away from her. She had been in agony, waiting for her respite. But he had fled so quickly, she couldn’t even see him any longer. Only large pawprints were left behind in the earth showing the direction that Ambrose had run.

But as she ran after him, she heard footfalls through the woods. Footfalls that were too heavy, too deliberate, too slow to be the fleet paws that Ambrose had departed on. Branches crushed, leaves rustled, and she felt before she saw the large figure that stepped out from behind a massive oak. He wore plaid, and seemed to be more of a caricature than a real person – sporting a thick dark beard down to his chest, donned in plaid and denim and clutching an axe in his meaty hands. He looked over Angelina’s naked form and a chilling smile opened up between his brushy mustache and beard. “Why hello there…” He creaked in a throaty voice, his intention obvious by the bulge in his trousers.

As desperate as Angelina was, the thought of this man was revolting. This was not what she needed. Not at all.

This was the first other living person she had seen in days besides Ambrose, and for a tiny split-second a glimmer of relief passed over her features – but Ambrose's absence meant the feeling was fleeting, and as she took in the man, his erection, and his eerie smile she nearly physically ill. He wasn't the medicine she so desperately needed, and she backed away from him quickly. “Who are you?” she stammered off, speaking loudly, praying Ambrose was in earshot.

The lecherous grin stayed plastered to his face as he took in her curves, the flush of her cheeks. “Looks like it’s my lucky day,” He said gruffly, squeezing the well-worn wood of the handle of the axe. “And I’m jus’ the man you’ve been looking for, sweetie.” He took a step forward, reaching out with his open hand towards her arm. “These are my woods. And… looks like you’re in ‘em. You know what that makes you? Mine.”

“Oh hell no,” she breathed, her eyes resting warily in the axe in his hand. She suddenly realized how naked she was, a blush forming over her cheeks and spreading over her the tops of her breasts. There was no point in trying to hide herself; she could feel his eyes all over her exposed, hot skin. Like a cornered animal she turned and bolted in the opposite direction; calling Ambrose's name.

Angelina could hear him on her heels, the underbrush crushing beneath his heavy boots. As she glanced back, she could see him matching her, the sunlight glinting off of the sharp blade of his axe…

Meanwhile, Ambrose crashed through the woods, hoping that the blood pumping through his muscles would redirect some of it from his throbbing erection. But to no avail. Running through the woods on all fours was just getting easier and easier, the musky scent of churned up earth making him feel so right like this. So heady, so bestial. He had to find the way out, find the end to this torture. Find a way to return to being human. The clean-cut, honest, gentleman. If he didn’t find a way out of these woods, he was scared what he’d do… scared of what he would become.

It was only when the flash of an unnatural yellow and orange caught his eyes that he skidded to a stop.

His heart was racing in his chest as he stared unbelieving at the tent. A dusting of encroaching mold had worked its way a few inches up the base, and it was only thanks to his sensitive nose that he could smell the traces of them in it – old and long-still. It was their campsite. It felt like another life that he and Angelina had pitched the tent and slept in each others arms, oblivious to what would befall them in the days to come.

But finding this campsite… it didn’t magically change him back. It didn’t end his agonizing lust. It only seemed to make his need for Angelina more poignant. He had been scared of what would happen if he didn’t find a way out, a way to change back. Now… a flash of a new fear flared in Ambrose. What would happen to him if he didn’t satisfy the unquenchable need. If he went back, not having experienced what was hounding every fiber of his being. He felt like he was standing at the border, at a cusp… at a decision… when he heard his name screamed shrilly through the woods. It wasn’t a cry of lust, it was accented by fear.

And without thinking, Ambrose was turning and running in the direction… moving as fast as his paws would take him.

*

Suddenly, as Angelina was running, a grey blur rushed to meet her, solidifying into the form of a massive wolf. There seemed to be nothing of Ambrose left at all in its form. It was enormous, crouched on all fours, amber eyes blazing with light and an absolutely huge erection hard and dripping between his legs. It lifted its long muzzle, meeting her blue eyes with his feral, black-rimmed ones. And for just a moment, time seemed to stand still. Something primal within Angelina felt complete by seeing this beast before her. Despite the utterly animalistic form, she felt such a tie to it – such a connection. It was the yin to her yang… it had what she needed. She didn’t even need words.

But then, things began to move again as heavy footfalls broke through the trees and the woodsman was behind her with his axe lifted.

“That’s okay, Girlie. You can play hard to get. It just makes things more-“ His words cut off as he saw the beast crouched before Angelina – its attention suddenly on him, a dangerous growl coming from its throat.

Ambrose sprung, fangs bared. She was HIS.

Angelina dodged out of the way of Ambrose's lunge, knowing without a doubt in her mind it was him – despite the lack of any discernible human features left in him. She knew this was right and she ducked behind a nearby tree, flinching in anticipation as to what might happen next.

The force of Ambrose’s charge knocked the woodsman back off his feet completely, and the pair of them landed hard on the forest floor. The soft, loosely packed soil, however, barely knocked the wind from the woodsman, even with Ambrose’s massive forepaws pinning him to the ground.

Ambrose was overtaken by a fury he had never known – not with the worst argument with his parents or the most difficult fencing match – but a real, primal rage. He was trying to hurt Angelina. HIS Angelina. He didn’t think about his actions, he just let go, teeth snapping, claws digging. A spray of something hot and salty and intoxicating splashed into his mouth. It gave him just a moment to pause, blinking, as he realized how badly he was mangling, savaging a man, and put off by how good it tasted. But it gave the woodsman the time he needed to scramble back and haphazardly lurch off away the savage creature and the girl that was no longer worth it. Ambrose was bristling and snarling, and nearly set off after him, but he caught himself, looking back towards Angelina, licking the blood from his muzzle.

Almost as soon as it had started, it was over. He had won.

Purposefully, he strode towards Angelina, his tail lifted proudly, and his erection obvious between his legs. He wanted it. He had earned it. He ached so badly and he knew that she was the only respite. Every moment he went without her was torture. But it was more than that – it wasn’t just what he needed… it was what he wanted. Angelina… she had been there the whole time why had he not seen it before?

His mouth opened into a wolfish grin as Ambrose surrendered to the driving, pounding instincts.

He growled under his breath, but it wasn’t the aggressive, fearsome growl he had confronted the woodsman with. It was throaty, seductive. His phallus, even as he clawed the ground on all fours, was very apparent and Angelina couldn’t wrest her eyes from it – red, hot, pointed, dripping… and huge.

Angelina stumbled from behind her tree, her arms outstretched as she reached for him.  Her hands wove through the fur on his face, ignoring the blood as she buried her face in thick, soft fur.  She could feel his muscles under the fur, the heat from his skin as her hands glided over his neck.  She was overcome by relief and gratitude, love and desire.  Her lips brushed over the panting lisp of his muzzle, before her eyes finally came up to meet his.

He locked eyes with her and in them she could see the barely held-in-check passion and lust; she could feel how badly he wanted her. He licked at her face, his long wet tongue cleaning her cheeks and he growled softly. She could feel the vibrations under her hands and through his dense muscles.

And then he moved again, withdrawing from her grasp and moving behind her, taking in her lithe, nude form, the swell of her hips, and the sweet spot between her legs. He moved his nose towards it, breathing her in, slipping his tongue between her lips.

She didn't flinch away from his form, though she watched him coyly over her shoulder.  Her hips wiggled under his scrutiny, and when his tongue slipped out to touch her most sensitive place she let out a long moan of relief... as if she had been holding her breath and finally found air.  Her head dipped down and her eyes slipped closed as she left the sensation wash over her.

Ambrose took one, two more exploratory licks, letting the flavor and scent wash over him, finally giving in completely to the sensations. He ached so hard. It had been torture. But each lick was like he was lapping from the sweetest pool of honey. It only served to make him want her more. But before too long, he could stand it no more. He pushed himself off the ground, balancing himself on his sturdy hindlegs before wrapping his forepaws around her slender waist, jerking her towards him and burying his muzzle in her fragrant hair as his length pressed between her thighs. She could feel how hot and slick he was. It was more like a wine bottle than the glass soda bottle he had been smuggling earlier.
He growled unintelligibly into her neck, his long teeth grazing ever so lightly against the back of her neck, setting her hair on edge.

She whet her lips in preparation, the breath catching in her throat as she felt how big he was, a flutter of sudden nervousness about his size, clutching in her chest; but it quickly dissipated as the rush of primal lust pulsed back into her bloodstream, and she made the slightly encouraging moan.

He angled his head, taking her neck carefully between his jaws as he shifted a foot forward and angled up… and in. He growled deeply, eyes fluttering as he felt the tightness surround him. It was ecstasy; her moist folds seeming to be the soothing balm for his swollen phallus. He pressed in slowly at first, the narrower, pointed tip forging the way for his length and girth.

"Oh fuck," she cried out, her body tending for just a moment, her hands twisting in the grass under her.  She felt his felt his teeth on the back of her neck - feeling the hot breath on her...it helped her relax; to allow him further passage into her.  Her eyes squeezed shut and she began to quiver around him, encouragingly. 

Inch by inch, the wolf pressed into her, savoring each sensation with renewed pleasure as he felt her tighten and squeeze and quiver over him. She was so tight… so wet. Her slipperiness helped him push further in. Ambrose never knew it would feel quite like this!

His eyes flashed, his grip over her throat tightened just a bit so that she could feel the pressure – the barest hint of pain only accentuating the massive organ that suddenly bucked deeper into her so that just his swollen knot was still outside.

Angelina saw stars behind her eyelids as he locked himself.  She screamed a primal cry that straddled the line between pain and pleasure.  She cried out until she had to gasp for breath, looking over her shoulder to watch, never trying to pull away or discourage him.  Her eyes were cloudy and lids heavy with desire.

Ambrose’s lips pulled back into a toothy grimace of sheer sensation. His ears pressed back against his head as he grunted deeply, growling unintelligibly. Angelina could feel his growl throughout his whole body and hers as well as he wrapped so tightly around her, and was pushed so deeply into her. Her cries only goaded him on, appealed to the lupine instincts and reinforced his sense of dominance and control. His hips thrust more quickly now with short, staccato tugs and pushes. Sensation was overcoming everything else in his mind. He was swimming in it, immersed in it – everything felt so right, like he was realizing what he was meant to do.

He looked down at the contrast of their bodies – her supple, smooth skin flushed with pink, the scent of her filling his nose, and his – massive, powerful… furry… it almost seemed like an insult to her beauty. A small voice in his head struggled to gain control to regain coherence. What was he doing?! It wasn’t too late yet! He could still back out – he hadn’t come yet! But this time… it was too late. As soon as the thought entered his head, his hips (which seemed to be acting on their own accord) bucked once more – harder – as if undermining his thoughts at that very moment and with a sucking noise and a shrill gasp from Angelina – his knot pushed its way into her.

The sensations amped up immediately as Angelina felt filled to nearly bursting in exhilarating pressure. And Ambrose felt her all around him, her muscles tight around him, milking him for his seed. He tried – once – to pull back but a gasp of pain from Angelina halted his retreat, and a flare of indescribable pressure bubbled to his mind as her hold on him was absolute. He was stuck, and his body was still moving, still thrusting in such small, quick, tight thrusts… each one seeming to drive the thoughts of protest further back into the recesses of his mind, replacing it with more… more… more pleasure until it he was utterly overwhelmed. He had to have her. The wolf needed her and wasn’t going to stop until he had reached his climax. There was no going back.

And then suddenly, tension mounted until there was nowhere else for it to go except everywhere. Their worlds seemed to collide in a blinding force of pleasure as their bodies were awash in a riptide of sheer ecstasy. There was no thought – no regret – just a mind-blanking, body-seizing force of magic and sensation as they were sent spiraling to untold heights - and then – when it felt like they could not contain even the concept of what was filling them they fell: crashing down... down… down to unfathomable depths. Their bodies went limp and the world went dark.

*

*

*

Sunlight.

Birdsong.

Slowly, noise and light dug their fingers through the haze of sleep to rouse the couple. It was like pulling themselves out of a warm, cloying mud that threatened to pull them deeper and deeper, but gradually, ever so gradually, an eyelid fluttered and a finger twitched.

Eyes squeezed shut, but the light shone persistently through eyelids. And with it came the clarity of wakefulness and memory. Ambrose groaned as memories flooded back to him – him… Angelina… the curse. He squeezed his eyes shut, frightened to open them, frightened to see what he had become – forever…

But when he heard a gasp from Angelina and a rough shaking of his shoulder, his eyes snapped open instinctively and looked down on… his body – his HUMAN body. His… naked human body – but it was HIS! He blinked, rubbing his eyes, and looked to Angelina. She was nude as well, and behind her – the light streaming in filtered by the yellow tent. He blinked, not understanding. Their things were strewn around them – the jars of bugs, his backpack, her backpack… they were back in the tent. Had it all been a dream? He looked to Angelina, and in a moment, he knew that she had experienced the same thing, real or otherwise.

There were no words. As if their lives depended on it, they threw their shirts and pants on and grabbed their things, not even stopping to disassemble the tent, and bolted – following the now evident trail back to the edge of the woods.

In their haste, they didn’t even notice that the red hoodie that Angelina had grasped in her mad dash to leave… didn’t seem to have sleeves… and was made of such a plush, velvety material…

The End?