Seek The Wolf in Thyself

This is a part of a story I was writing, changed it a bit from the original story…tell me what yall think

Wolferick felt the change begin.

As before, it started with a pulling sensation in his mind as it grew to the predatory mind of the beast. Then came the pressure in his bone, much like when pulling out a tooth, as they warped and contorted into the time perfected frame of the wolf. His mouth itched, his ears itched, and his skin crawled as vicious teeth grew and fine tuned ears morphed and ultra sensitive fur sprouted all over his changing body.The change was over in minutes, and with it came the flooding of senses and the true mean of feeling good.

He looked at himself in the calm creek, and icy blue fire looked back at him. His fur was light gray and black radiating over his crown and along his back and most of his flanks. His collar was a stripe of black in a sea of snow white chest and underbelly.He was massive by wolf standards, over a meter and a half at the shoulder and about a two hundred and fifty pounds. He could easily fit a large mans head in his jaws and crush it even easier.He could nearly see the trails of scent in the air, along the ground, in the water, and he could see the slightest ant creeping across the bark of a tree. He could hear the minute flapping of a sparrow’s wings as it flew above the treetops.He felt the coiled power in his muscles, the ability to spring half a spears throw, and the balance to walk along a taut wire.

He smelled…deer, a wounded one, and the hunt was on. He loped off easily, filled with excitement of knowing he was to eat well.He came out into a meadow and saw it, limping badly from a poorly shot crossbow bolt in it’s hip.He guessed that it had been shot and ran and that the hunters had likely given up.He was yet inexperienced in the ways of the wolf.

He coiled and released, in several bounds and a final leap, he took the stag in the throat. He whipped around with the deer in a iron jaw grip with enough force to snap its neck and bring it to the ground.Before he could feast upon his kill, he heard a yell and a snap followed by a searing pain in his left shoulder. He yelped and scrambled for the cover of the forest. He glanced back once he was safe and saw a young boy and his father walk out to the carcass, the father laughing and patting the boy on the shoulder, and the boy grinning with the crossbow in his hands.

His shoulder hurt bad, he held his left leg off the ground and limped on three legs. A very small clearing broken by a flowing creek appeared through the trees and he laid down to lick his wound.That only made it worse, he lay his head down, closed his eyes and whined as he tried to fight off the pain.Then his ear caught a shift in a fern ten yards downwind, but he couldn’t catch a scent.

He made another mistake of playing it off as a small animal.A moment later a young woman with eyes as black as a new moon and hair vixen red stepped into the clearing.He growled a warning, though it was empty as it would have taken him a lot longer to get up than it would for her to kill him.A look of shock crossed her face, first as she saw his size, then again as his fiery blue eyes met hers.

“Oh my.” she gasped.

She crouched down, making herself less intimidating, and crawled toward him speaking calmly to him. As she near him she tried to make contact and her hand brushed his gray fur on his flank.He lashed out at her

Don’t touch me! he snarled, revealing his long fangs.

Though she couldn’t understand his words the meaning was clear. She waited for him to rest his head back down before trying something different.