Stand

No. You are done living your life in fear. If you must die and lose all that you have gained, you will sell yourself dearly, and take as many of them with you as possible. You sink your roots into the ground and unfurl your vines, ready to do battle. However, the first shapes slow as they approach you, resolving into giant, black hounds and dark, shadowy wolves. You tense, as they circle you, waiting for the first strike.

Then, you notice a shining, silver figure moving through the trees towards you. It appears to be a woman, more of a girl really, barely into adulthood. The kind old enough to make you think all sorts of inappropriate thoughts, but still young enough to make you feel guilty for thinking them. Her hair is a wild tumble of night-black curls, falling to her shoulders. Her skin is a pale ivory, glowing softly in the moonlight and gives her an unearthly cast. Her face is flawless, with a high, clear brow; a fine, straight nose; sharp cheekbones and lips that form a perfect cupid's bow. Her chin is strong, but rounded, giving her features a slightly defiant cast. Her neck is long and beautiful, flowing down to seamlessly join with her shoulder above well-formed collar bones. She wears a simple white tunic, falling to mid-thigh, which clings to her breasts and hips in a way that hints at the delightful figure underneath. Her legs are long and pale, with strong, toned thighs and shapely calves. She walks forward slowly, balancing on the balls of her bare feet. The image is that of a wild, young maiden, innocent of her beauty and her surroundings, wandering through the woods. However, it is belied by her eyes. They are a bright, inhuman silver, the irises shining rings around dark pupils. They look out, observing the world with an air of insatiable curiosity and restless anticipation, as if the mind behind them is wondering where it shall find its next amusement and what form that amusement will take.

This is no hero or NPC. You're not sure what she is. Despite a hefty dose of very rational fear, you feel oddly drawn to her. You have to fight the urge to reach out and touch her in order to see if she is really there. As she approaches, she tilts her head and examines you with intense scrutiny. "Who are you?" she asks, her voice high and clear. I could ask you the same question lady. You've decided that your hostile stance has precluded any chance at civility. However, she is not offended. "You did not run." No, I didn't, you reply. She tilts her head in the other direction. "Interesting. Most do not have the courage to stand in the face of my hunt." Yeah, well, I'm not most people, you shoot back. "Obviously," she replies, staring at you with fascination "Through my countless hunts, I have never seen a creature like you before." Guess that makes me pretty special, doesn't it?" you say sarcastically. The girl doesn't notice, "Indeed. You are... unique." She stares at you for a while longer, then she gives a sharp nod as if she has made a decision. "You may join my hunt, unique one," she offers solemnly, as it bestowing a great privilege. You feel a flash of anger at her presumption and give a derogatory glance at the beasts around you. Gee, thanks, but I think I'm going to have to decline. The girl laughs. It matches her appearance, sounding bright and joyful and drops off to a slight giggle at the end. A part of you is insanely pleased and making her laugh and wishes you could listen to the sound of it forever. You angrily dismiss the thought as the girls begins speaking again. "You do not understand," she says, looking amused "There are only two options when faced with my hunt: join or die." You grow angry at her arrogance; it makes you reckless. Then I think I'm going to have to die. I've got better things to do than hang out with you and your bunch of overgrown puppies. The girl's brows furrow. "But I do not wish for you to die," she says, looking puzzled. Well, gosh, that's just too bad, but you're just going to have to live with the disappointment. Her puzzled look deepens to one of confusion. Then, she shakes her head with frustration. "You will join." Her voice brooks no argument. You snort. Make me. You prepare to resist her, but are unprepared for her speed. In a silver blur, she leaps forward to touch your chest just above where your heart would be if you were human.

At her touch, you feel your body begin to twist and arch with pain. With a jolt, you realize that the girl is forcing you to transform. You try to resist the changes, but are unsuccessful. The imposed metamorphosis leaves you looking similar to your previous form, with one exception: you look like a wolf. Your limbs are still made of intertwined roots and vines, your body is still looks like a bark-covered piece of wood, your eyes still glow with green light and your genitals still hang between your legs. However, the features of your head are more defined, looking like a statue carved from wood, with an actual mouth filled with sharp, thorn-like teeth. You also have a tail made from curling roots, like your legs. You give a snarl of rage, and try to snap at the girl, who darts past you laughing. Her own form shifts into that of a silver doe, racing off into the night. Filled with fury, you leap after her, intent on making her pay. With a howl of excitement, the other beasts follow behind. The girl is too fast for you though, and over time, you start to lose yourself in the thrill of the chase and the blood-lust of the pack.

The girl's scent changes, becoming sweet and musky, as she shifts again into the form of a white she-wolf. You can see her form time to time ahead of you in the trees. With change in the girl's scent, images of you catching the white she-wolf and roughly mounting her fill your head and you feel your blood-lust take on a more carnal edge. You race against your fellow pack members, as you all strain to lead the pack. You snarl and snap at those around you, brutally ramming yourself into any who get to close, as you race to stay ahead. Despite your recent entry into the pack, you are consistently among the front-runners, often taking the lead.

You're so caught up in the chase that you barely notice the world around you, until a new scent crosses your path. It's not as sweet as the she-wolf's, but it's closer and coming towards you. As a whole, the pack moves to intercept. Fear enters the new scent as your prey notices your approach. Your quarry comes into sight between the trees: a pretty, young woman, probably a NPC given her lack of weapons, her dress torn in places by her **** flight. You do not question how she came to be wandering alone at night, nor do you care. It is enough that she is. Furiously, you strain against the others, eager to be the first to take the prey. You pull ahead. Only a dark, grey wolf, hide covered in scars, lies between you and the prey. Giving a violent roar, you leap forward, knocking the other wolf out of the way, and bring the girl to the ground.

For a minute, bloodlust rages within as you feel the desire to sink your teeth into her soft flesh, but soon the more aroused parts of you take control. You feel an urgent need to get closer to the source of her tantalizing scent. Shaping your paws into rough approximations of hands, you rip the ragged remains of her dress from her body and bury your snout between her legs to lap at her sweet, little slit. The others circle and try to approach, but you snarl at them, forcing them away. She is yours. Her pussy floods with delicious juices as you try to reach your tongue deeper and deeper inside her. It isn't enough. You need more.

You rear up, scrambling to position yourself over her, as you grasp her hips more tightly. In position, you stab your long length inside her, causing her to cry out. You plunge into her again and again, focused solely on your own release. You feel her weakly struggle against you, even as her body is wracked by shudders of pleasure. Her wriggling annoys you. You reach out one forelimb to press her head and chest more tightly against the ground, the other sending curls of vine around her to keep her hips firmly locked in place. Feeling your impending release draw near, you start to pant eagerly, increasing the intensity of your brutal thrusts. A powerful howl rips from your chest, celebrating your victory of her, as you blast your seed deep within her, marking her as yours. The others join you, the sound filling the night sky.

Done, you withdraw, not even pausing to check on her, as others in the pack move to take your place. The she-wolf's scent fill your nose again and you leap to follow it, half the pack going with you. The rest stay behind with your prey.

All through the night you chase the girl. Her form constantly shifts throughout the night. Sometimes she's a silver doe, sometimes a she-wolf, others she rides a white hart in her natural form. Every now and again, prey will cross your path to momentarily divert you. Some among the pack cannot help but be lured away by the promise of easy kills, however you will not be swayed from the girl's scent. Eventually, you are the only one left, all the other hounds and wolves distracted by lesser quarry or too exhausted to keep pace. On and on, you chase her through the night, until, at last, you can run no more and darkness takes you. Regret and disappointment fill you as you collapse. You sincerely wish you had been able to catch her, to make her yours.