Wednesday, November 30, 2011
“It’s the Holidays
And the Werewolves go Rowr Rowr
Rowr rowr, rowr rowr, rowr rowr
The Vampires look for blood
And the Zombies look for brains
And the Werewolves go Rowr Rowr
And the Werewolves go Rowr Rowr
And the Werewolves, the Werewolves go Rowr Rowr
Dragons come down
And join the mob
As blood is sprayed around
And every vampire and every bat,
lap up the resulting blood,
lap up the resulting blood,
lap up, lap up the resulting blood
Monsters rule the world with blood and guts
And every Ogre knows
That holidays are best for eating their victims
And the Werewolves go rowr rowr
and the Werewolves go rowr rowr
And the Werewolves, the Werewolves go rowr rowr
Tuesday, November 29, 2011
The new crescent moon was particularly gorgeous in the teal night sky after twilight. Here’s wishing you a wonderful upcoming holiday season.
Next week I hope to bring you good news about a short shapeshifter Christmas story I’ve written, titled: SANTA BABY, SEVERAL STARS AWAY.
In the meantime, here’s a flash scene that could be part of another short shapeshifter story I’m penning around a New Year’s theme. No, sorry to disappoint some of you, it’s ‘not’ a manlove erotic romance. However, it is a menage.
The Timber Wolf and the Black Cougar, Calendar Cowboys
“Dante’s calendar shoot this year was a real howl and hoot.” After a long and guttural laugh, Zance threw back his head and howled. To his satisfaction the sound reverberated throughout their four-seater pickup truck.
Dontoya yowled a drawn out chuckle, but still kept an iron hand on the steering wheel. Zance always envied the sound of his longtime ranch partner’s laugh because the women would crowd around him, their tongues nearly hanging out with lust.
“Yep, pard,” Dontoya drawled, “the shoot was a dang party without pants. Instead of in my pants. You know -- how we both get hard-ons from hell whenever Sherilyn is around.”
“Yeah, just thinking about our little spitfire...” Zance resettled himself so his cock wasn’t challenging his zipper quite as much.
Dontoya slowed the pickup turning onto the back road, the one that went past Sherilyn’s modest ranch, and along one side of her land. Whenever they could, they always took the long way home just to drive by, and maybe catch her scent, or a glimpse of their sexy, very elusive prey if she was checking the fence for breaks.
Despite her over-large man’s clothing, Sherilyn failed at hiding her voluptuous-in-all-the-right-places body. At least to his keen hunter’s eye. Zance kept his gaze fastened now, appreciating the new fallen snow -- about a foot of the heavy wet stuff.
“Spitfire is damn sure right.” Dontoya touched the brakes, then downshifted so they moved at a slower speed over the snow-packed slippery road. “No matter which one of us approaches her, she does a mighty fine job of bitin’ our heads off.”
“Yeah, without fangs,” Zance muttered. “This time I’m sending a calendar anonymously to our prickly human-she, who doesn’t know she belongs to us. Think she’ll like my bare-ass pose?”
“Who are you kidding, wolf boy? She’ll like my taut, bronze bare ass much better than your pale, moon-reflectin’ butt.”
“Ain’t that pale, cat boy.” Zance exaggerated his twang on purpose because it annoyed Dontoya.
Most of the time, they were best buds, and worked their ranch together without so much as a sour word. Now and again, though, they would go at each other like cats and dogs. Or what they were, a timber wolf and a black cougar. Then, their fists would fly and they’d shift, the fur flying until they exhausted themselves.
The last time they’d fang and claw battled, it’d been over which one of them was going to talk to Sherilyn first, since they’d seen her at the same time. She’d been buying feed for her horses at Talbot Peak’s Livestock Center, the store where they regularly purchased products for their cattle and horses.
By the time their discreet shoving match stopped a couple of aisles away, she’d been walking out the door. Like love-struck fools they’d rushed after her, only to be halted by Mary Lou’s all-knowing, singsong words, “Confided in me she’s been celibate for years, and don’t want no man.”
When he and Dontoya pivoted around to look at the store’s owner, Mary Lou gave them her big horsey grin, and neighed in her human voice, saying, “I showed her Dante’s charity calendar figuring she’d want one. Barely gave it a glance and just bought it ‘cause it was for charity.”
“Who’d have believed a pair like us would fall head over paws for a human-she?” Dontoya interrupted Zance’s remembrance of how the two of them had pried every last little bit about Sherilyn out of Mary Lou by buying twice their normal load of grain.
“We both know there’s more to her, even if it ain’t being a shapeshifter.” Zance spared a glance for his partner, who was sniffing for Sherilyn’s scent.
“With a stare that can freeze you in your tracks like gettin’ caught in a sub-zero blizzard, yeah, pard, there is. If we could solve that mystery, we might have an ‘in’ with her. But, since she’s always prickly as a teddy bear cholla cactus--”
Dontoya’s words were lost as another large pickup gunned past them, spraying snow that covered their windshield.
“Fucker,” Dontoya snarled as he eased the truck to a crawl, and flipped on the wipers.
“The Brady brothers. All four of ‘em. Caught their ape stink.” Zance curled his lips, baring his teeth.
“Hell. Dante banned them from his biker bar just last week.”
“Hell, yeah. They were about to get the ape stank beat right off, and the devil beat out of ‘em.”
“Soundin’ like a real good plan right now.” Dontoya growled menacingly as he picked up speed.
In the next instant, the Brady bunch was forgotten because Sherilyn’s ripe-as-summer-strawberries fragrance filled Zance’s nostrils. “Dibs,” he barked, a mere second before his partner’s echoing ‘dibs’.
After a fierce ‘grrrrr’, Dontoya smacked the steering wheel with his fist. “You better sweet talk her, wolf boy, into New Year’s --”
Sherilyn’s horrified scream pierced Zance’s ears, and he knew Dontoya heard also because he stomped on the accelerator. Heedless of the dangerous conditions, Dontoya sped the pickup toward her.
What Zance saw next chilled his blood and also enraged him so that his wolf threatened to break free. But, he had to stay in control. He watched as the Brady brother at the wheel churned their pickup’s tires backing away from Sherilyn’s much smaller truck.
“Grab my tail, pard. Or I’m gonna rip them limb from fucking limb,” Dontoya viciously snarled as he slammed their pickup to a sliding halt.
“Limb from fucking limb,” Zance echoed in a growl, even as he threw open the door, and bolted outside.
He hit the ground at a dead run. Leaping over the ditch, Zance sprinted toward Sherilyn’s truck, knocked off the road, and sitting askew. Some part of him knew what he would find before he caught sight of her lifeless looking body -- so small and still in the white field of deep snow where she’d been flung by the impact.
No! Zance shouted inside, railing against fate, railing against the terrible scene he witnessed. He had never felt so strangely empty, so surreal. And, even through Zance pumped his legs harder, faster, it seemed like an eternity before he reached Sherilyn -- before he was kneeling beside her and sniffing for her life essence.
An instant later, Dontoya dropped to his knees on the other side of Sherilyn. “She’s bleeding internally. Bad. I smell it.”
“We only got one way to save her.”
“Do it fast.” Dontoya moved to hold Sherilyn’s head steady.
Zance unzipped her parka only enough to rip away the part of her flannel shirt that covered her shoulder. Leaning down, he sank the tip of his elongating fangs into her shoulder muscle until his saliva flowed into Sherilyn’s bloodstream. She could hate him later.
“She’s coming home with us.” Dontoya gently cradled her head in his palms. “She’ll need us to take care of her now.”
Have a Magickal and Shapeshifting Holiday Season...
Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance ~
Monday, November 28, 2011
“Dang it, Lamar,” Jamie said, “of all the fool things you ever talked me into, this has gotta be the foolest.”
“Chico, I haven’t even scratched the surface of all the foolish things I want to talk you into. This, however, isn’t one of them. This is for a good cause. Tell him, Bo.”
“You heard the man,” Bo Ewing said. Like Jamie, he wore a simple terrycloth robe, though his was several sizes larger than Jamie’s. Like Jamie, he was naked beneath it. “Dante’s pin-up calendar makes a ton of money for local charities every year. You want to tell the kids at the hospital they won’t be getting a new dialysis machine because you got cold – ” He eyed Jamie’s groinal region and finished with a chuckle, “Feet?”
“I get the charity bit,” Jamie snapped. “I don’t get nudie shots of men. The Talbot’s Peak gay community ain’t that big. Oughtn’t you make one of nekkid women or something?”
“We’ve got one of those, too.” Dante himself entered just in time to catch, and answer, Jamie’s question. A long-legged, barrel-chested stranger in a Stetson followed him in. “The male calendar outsells it three to one, every single year.” He winked at Bo and the other man. “There’s a lot of randy shes in Talbot’s Peak.”
Lamar elbowed Jamie. “Told you.”
“And I told you,” Dante said to Lamar, “you can’t be in the women’s calendar. We’ve still got some uptight folks who’d burn my bar if they realized they were looking at a man.”
“Chillax, jefe. I’m moral support for the shy boy here. Also prop. One way or another, I’m getting into the calendar.”
“Not if you keep holding up production,” Mr. Ed, the photographer, said with an annoyed sniff. He was a slender, horse-faced man with a long blond ponytail. “You ready, son?”
“As he’ll ever be,” Lamar said, and shifted into his boa form.
“Dang foolishness,” Jamie muttered. “I ought’a be behind the camera, not in front of it.”
“You’re the one agreed to it,” Bo said with a grin and no sympathy. “By the way, where’s Porker? Don’t tell me he chickened out.”
“I’m afraid so,” Dante said. “Fortunately Dash here agreed to stand in. Exit biker, enter cowboy. I don’t think the ladies will mind.”
“Are you going to pose or not?” Ed said to Jamie.
“I’m gettin’ there,” Jamie said. Like diving into a pond, he told himself. You jump in all at once, it ain’t so bad. He loosened the robe and let it fall before stepping in front of the camera. Lamar slithered up his leg and wrapped around his torso, with one thick coil strategically draped across Jamie’s sinful bits. His forked tongue licked the curve of Jamie’s ear.
“Quit it,” Jamie mumbled. “How y’all want me?”
“Relax,” Ed instructed. “There’s good stiff and bad stiff. You’re giving me bad stiff.” He handed Jamie an apple. “Have fun with it.”
Sure, have a blast showing himself off like a side of beef with Lamar hanging all over him. It’s for the kids, he kept telling himself, and struck what he hoped was a provocative pose.
“Atta boy, Jamie,” Bo called encouragement. “You’re a natural. Didn’t we do this shot last year?”
“Gypsy as Eve? Yes, I remember. She’s pairing with Sergei this year.”
“I’m guessing he’ll be tiger. I can’t imagine him naked. Oh wait, yes I can. Terrific, now I can’t get that picture out of my head. Somebody describe their last date or something.”
“I was with a zebra last night,” Ed announced. “They bite, and in the most interesting places. Happy? Good. Now be quiet. I’m trying to create magic here.”
He took several shots of “Adam and the Serpent” before he pronounced himself satisfied. Jamie snatched up his robe and yanked it on with Lamar still wrapped around him. The snake’s head poked out of the robe’s V neckline. Jamie idly rubbed it with a finger.
“Who wants to go next?” Ed said. “Come on, boys. Time is money.”
“I’ll go,” Dash offered. “I got some things to pick up in town, then I need to get back to work.” He stripped off his shirt, revealing a tanned chest just made for porn shoots. He stepped in front of the camera.
“Hey!” Jamie said. “How come he gets to keep his pants on?”
“’Cause I got a jealous lady at home,” Dash replied easily. He repositioned his Stetson at a rakish angle. “Wish I had a horse to pose with. Make this a helluva shot.”
“That can be arranged,” Ed said. He was practically drooling. “You. ‘Adam.’ Did you say you’re a photographer?”
Jamie stepped up to the camera and pronounced himself familiar with the type. Ed shed his clothes in a blink and shifted into a shiny-coated palomino, far handsomer than his human form. Jamie tossed Dash the apple and started shooting, with Dante, Bo and a once-again human Lamar looking over his shoulder. Jamie ignored them all, totally focused on his creative vision.
“Oohh, nice,” Ed said upon regaining human shape. “Look at that lighting! Son, you’re a natural. Ever done these types of shots before?”
“Uhhhh … ”
“Just with me,” Lamar spoke up. “I got one on me. Wanna see?”
“I’d rather see your portfolio.” Ed recovered his slacks from the chair where he’d tossed them and fished a business card out of his pocket. “If you’d like a job, or just freelance work, I can use a talented helper. Anyone can snap a photo. You’ve got an artist’s eye.”
Jamie glanced around uneasily at the half-naked and naked men in the studio, which now included Ed. “I dunno. You do a lot of this?”
“As much as I can get,” Ed said with a horsy grin. “Sadly, most of it’s simple formal portraits. Luckily for my tastes, there are those who like to do erotic shots for their mates. Men and women. Best of both worlds.”
“He’ll do it,” Lamar said, clapping Jamie on the shoulder. “You can shoot the covers for my novels.”
“You write gay porn.”
“Give me a call,” Ed said. “We’ll talk. Now, who’s up next?”
“Guess that’s me.” Bo let his robe drop and stood in all his bighorn glory. He tossed a football from hand to hand. “How do you want me to hold it?”
Saturday, November 26, 2011
“I’m a moose!” Trina Wilderson ran toward one of her new friends, the Adams twins, her hand stretched out trying to tag one of them. Her other hand held down the hat threatening to fall off her head.
Bartson Wilderson wanted to grab the stuffed antler hat off his daughter Trina’s head and clap a hand over her mouth. Her rising voice level wasn’t helping his growing headache. The twins screeching with her added decibels that would set a dog pack to howling. The three girls kept running in circles trying to tag the other as they waited with their parents for the carousel to stop. They headed up the next group to enter the ride.
Jason Adams wanted to grab the father of his twin daughters’ newest friend and shake him. Jason had promised his wife, he’d keep his animal leashed and controlled for the evening. Damn, couldn’t she read the human as easily as he could? What had she said after meeting Trina’s mother? Oh, yes. . .the poor woman needed friends and wanted to understand who the new comers were. Offering her a job at the diner would assist with keeping an eye on the humans around town. Hell, keeping Sherre Kahn under observation was not easy. Tomas’s request for backups had pulled in a few long overdue favors. Keeping family and children safe were utmost in importance.
The tall leggy brunette mother of the twins---well she had a set of legs that would quit. Give him a stepladder and a pogo stick and he’d---Keep your mind off my wife.
Bartson spun around and almost collided with the twins’ father. His muscles bulged and flexed with every breath he took. Had the man snarled at him? And the brunette? Bartson bet her eyes glowed golden green like cat eyes each time the carousel’s bright lights hit her eyes. Shit, were the rumors true about his new neighbors? Shape shifters from? Who the hell knew from where?
Bartson smiled and waved before turning back toward his wife. Trying to keep a straight face, he stepped toward the line forming near the carousel. Trina stood whispering in the ear of the twin girl closest to her. Seeing identical hats on the twin’s head, Bartson rubbed his hand up and down his pant leg. The vivid image of a large frothing at the mouth Doberman chasing him flashed through his mind
Look dude your mind isn’t gonna figure it out so give up or keep watching over your shoulder in your dreams.
“Jason,” his wife hissed in a low pitch snarl. “Remember we’re undercover.”
Jason nodded, wishing he could scare the prejudice bastard Bartson into shitting his pants. Drawing attention to his family wouldn’t help. Bartson’s wife and child deserved better treatment than their prejudice head of household offered them.
Bartson knew sticking with his kind made sense. True his disassociated fractured family tried to claim blue blood ties that even his great aunt the family genealogist shook her head over. If he added in his closest blood relatives. . .well he was sure they’d win a blue ribbon for dysfunctional family of the year. But mixing with half-bloods now that really rubbed his purity ethics in another direction.
Happy Post Turkey Day everyone! Don't eat too many left overs. Christmas goodies are coming next. Remember don't shop till you drop. Keep to your budget and enjoy the time with family and friends.
Friday, November 25, 2011
~~Attn Talbot's Peak residents, Zombies have been sighted at stores in surrounding towns, partaking of black Friday deals. Stay safe...you've been warned.~~
Ziva smiled as she made the last of the tweeks to her Friday post on the Guts and Butts site. The not so gentle reminder to the more than human sect of Talbot's Peak was like a secret service announcement to the world. The last thing this sleepy little town needed was a group of Were's shuffling and jostling in a line of humans trying to score the best deals on the worst shopping day of the year...
Trampling was just the beginning of the ugliness a group of shifters could cause...
It was a good thing most animals were wierded out by zombies and crowds - her little jpg warning above ought to be enough to keep the shifters in town and away from angry mobs...she hoped.
Thursday, November 24, 2011
Grateful for the chilled night air filling his lungs, Dante loped up the long incline toward his favorite viewing spot, deep in the forest that surrounded his Pleasure Club. Autumn’s leaves, moist from the daylong drizzle, cushioned his paws and lessened the sound of his steady stride.
Since he couldn’t share Thanksgiving with the catwoman he loved, Kitty, a lone run without the encumbrance of overseeing events at the club, had been his gift to himself. Several days ago, he and Lamar had made certain the few in Talbot’s Peak who would have been alone on this day of feast-sharing, had been invited to a banquet at his biker bar.
Dante paused at the edge of the clearing high on the mountainside. Hidden behind an enormous tree trunk, he sniffed carefully for any enemy, then observed the area as he waited and listened.
He’d made certain to satisfy his hunger, so he wouldn’t feel the need to hunt. Now Dante savored each blood-rich smell, the treat like a Thanksgiving Day dinner.
At his approach most every animal had gone to ground, or headed into the forest. Except Harry, who now scurried to the top of a large boulder waiting for him.
Wanting the solace only Mother Nature could give, a time to revel in the nighttime silence, Dante padded toward his sitting spot. He could see Talbot’s Peak proper, and he knew precisely which house belonged to his Kitty.
Atop the highest surface on the boulder, Harry raised up on his tiny mouse haunches. They didn’t mentally speak, but communed at a deeper level where only harmony existed.
Harry stretched upward, his nose and whiskers quivering as he met the touch of Dante’s nose. Companionably, they settled side-by-side, Harry on the boulder, and Dante sitting close, his shoulder resting against the rock.
Staying silent, Dante reflected on the gratitude he felt for the friends he’d made since returning to Talbot’s Peak, and for all he’d been able to accomplish with the Pleasure Club. His plans had only just begun.
Mostly, Dante was grateful for his precious Kitty. His beautiful little cat shapeshifter who often surprised him with her spunky courage, and who loved him with a heart of gold.
Someday soon they would be together. Someday soon...
How’s life? He asked Harry.
HAPPY THANKSGIVING TO ONE AND ALL...
Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance ~
Wednesday, November 23, 2011
“So what movie do you want to go see?”
“How about that one with the vegan-pires?”
“The vegan what?!?”
“Vegan-pires. You know, where the vampires refuse to drink human blood and go hunt bears and stuff for blood instead and get all cold and hard and glittery?”
“You mean Breaking Dawn?”
“Yeah, that’s the one.”
“Dude, how did you get ‘vegan-pire’ out of—wait. How do you know that much about the plot in the first place? Even gay guys won’t go watch a Stephanie Meyer movie.”
“I wouldn’t be so condescending if I were you. You knew what movie I was talking about!”
“But I’m a chick! Chicks like sparkly vampires!”
“You mean vegan-pires. And you just want to see Robert Patterson shirtless.”
“No way! I am Team Jacob all the way! Wait, you side tracked me again!”
“Fine. Yeah I like the movies. They have werewolves in them. I would probably watch Gone With The Wind if there were werewolves in it. I just have to make sure I take a chick with me so I don’t look like a wuss.”
“Now that is a story I can believe. Any movie with werewolves and vampires is bound to at least intrigue most guys.”
“What is with this ‘vegan-pire’ stuff, anyway?”
“You know… Vegans are people who go out of their way to not eat normal human food for moral reasons. The Cullens are blood suckers who go out of their way not to eat normal vampire food for moral reasons…”
“That’s… very odd. But fine, we can go see the vegan-pire flick tonight. And next week, you can be my excuse for going to see that new Jason Momoa flick.”
Tuesday, November 22, 2011
Wooferton, affectionately known as Woofie, had never given her a second glance, and certainly never a second butt sniff. Despite that, Shindy had been in love with the wolf-husky hybrid shapeshifter since their days together at Talbot's Peak High. That one dance beneath the full moon with Woofie, high school star of the football team... gosh-howls, could he catch and carry a pigskin... had caused her heart to trip so fast, and her head to spin so romantically, Shindy had thought she would faint right there in his arms.
Desperate to get him to notice her, Shindy costumed herself as a turkey. This year she wanted to be the Thanksgiving bounty, not on his table, but in his bed. Or wherever their lustiest howling passions...
Shindy gave herself a good shake. Now was not the time to let her fantasies get the upper paw.
During the annual Fall Turkey Hunt, Shindy planned to race in front of Woofie, and shake her faux feather tail irresistibly. Since the tables in Talbot's Peak were always laden with the plumpest tastiest birds thanks to Woofie and his pack, she figured this was her best and maybe last chance to arouse his mating fervor.
As Shindy gazed in the mirror to make certain her turkey costume wasn't askew, she realized to her dismay, she was just one more woman shapeshifter who would do 'anything' to attract the mate of her choice.
A touch of shame quivered her belly as she trotted out of her bedroom. What a girl has to do to get her wolf-husky man, she thought
Happy Thanksgiving Day Week, shapeshifter lovers.
Except for that little bit above, my inspiration has left the building, and since I'm tireder than tired, here's my funny turkey cartoon collection. Likely, you've seen them before. And, yes, they only go from bad to worse... but they might be good for a few gobbles and grins.
Have a Wonderful Thanksgiving!
Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance ~
Monday, November 21, 2011
“He rode into town from ages past, one of a kind, he was the last, his steed of choice was a pickup truck, he was looking for either a fight or a – ”
“Hey!” the saber-tooth tiger broke in. “You want to write a song about me, fine. Just keep it clean. And accurate. I don’t even own a pickup truck.”
“It’s a country song,” the bison retorted. “It’s gotta have prison, a pickup truck, and your mama in it.”
“Here’s a better idea. Sing about something else. Talbot’s Peak doesn’t need to hear ‘The Ballad of Steel Saber.’ That’s not even my real name.”
“Got a great ring to it, though. A real cowboy-hero name. Anyway, nobody can pronounce your real name. The language went extinct soon after you did.”
“Don’t remind me,” the tiger growled. “Any leads on the books yet?”
“That’s why I’m writing the song, bro. Landed a gig at that bar in the woods. The trees whisper the owner has his thumb in quite a few disreputable pies. Spirit books go missing and turn up in Montana, betcha he knows where. Wipe that look off your face. I’ll be discrete.”
“Sure you will.”
“Relax. I only charge headlong into things during rut. We’re months away from that. Now if you’ll excuse me, I got songs need writing’. You like this chord here, or should I save it for the end?”
“It all sounds the same to me. Listen, you can use Steel Saber if you have to. Just don’t mention the curse.”
“Bro! The curse is the hook! It’s the heart of the song! The last sabertooth cat in the world, cursed by a prehistoric shaman to wander the earth for eternity.”
“In the company of a bison who can’t keep his mouth shut.”
“You don’t like it, eat me.”
“Don’t think I haven’t thought about it.”
“Well, stop thinking. I’m too tough for even your fangs to rip into.” The bison tested a riff, and nodded. “Trust me, bro, it’ll work out fine. Nothing draws in the ladies like a tough man under a curse. Give you something to occupy your time while we’re looking for those books.”
“I’m not looking for companionship.”
“Good thing. Attitude like that, you won’t get any. You gonna be pissy, go run in the woods. I need to finish this. Maybe I can get some play on the local radio station.”
“As who? ‘Johnny Cashcow, the Bull in Black’? What the hell kind of stage name is that?”
“The kind that sounds country. Nobody’s going to turn out for a country singer named Rupert Frink. It’s all about image, bro. Excuse me, Steel.”
The renamed Steel Saber ripped off his shirt. “I’m going for that run.”
“Finally. You’re a real damper on the creative impulses.” Rupert adjusted a string and hummed the chorus to himself. “Trapped in the future, looking for the past, and the woman who’ll make him happy at last … ”
Saturday, November 19, 2011
Anna flopped down on the tree limb she’d climbed up to. Too long, far too long, she’d been without a pard or place to call her own. The mountains of this place called Talbot’s Peak spoke to her heart. Even the distance call to her soul from her place of origin could not stop the longing and need she had to be one with those who accepted her and what she offered.
“What do you offer?” Her conscience asked the question repeatedly over the last few days. Even in her sleep, she quizzed herself. Until one answer came to mind, she brought peace, tranquility, and love.
“How do you do this?” Sighing, Anna rested her head on her paws. She could hear Serge her old mentor and teacher chiding her to look beyond the obvious and understand that life pulsed in spurts bringing with it joy and pain that often brought the recognition with that what one had was there for a reason.
Anna twitched her tail. How she missed her conversations with Serge. Many long nights and days spent hunting and prowling the highlands back in Siberia left them gorged or frustrated. The love she brought could be measured in friendship, and the familial feeling she gave others who meant a lot to her, and the ones in her pard who looked after her. Too bad the encroachment of the humans sent the pard scattering. Many had left the country and others took to the mountains traveling to other sections and areas knowing that eventually they would need to move again.
Anna refused to look back. Serge had scolded her on staying focused in one direction too much. “Looking forward makes you vulnerable and leaves your back open to attack. In the rear is what is done. Losing the lessons shows you’ve learned nothing. Instead, look, listen, and remember. Nothing happens without reason or cause.” His words echoed in her heart and mind. Her journey to this point hadn’t been easy and the people and shifters who helped her along the way were forever a part of her.
Sniffing the wind, Anna raised her head. Her hackles rose. The scent was too familiar. Strong scents of male tiger spoor filled her nostrils and vanished as fast as it tickled her nose. Was it him?