Riding the Entire Pack (BBW Werewolf Shifter Steamy Menage Romance) by Willow Wilde
Authors: Willow Wilde
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upper half up from my earthy prison.
Dragging myself out of the heavy mass of sediments and rock chunks, I gasped for air on the ground nearby. As the chemicals wore off and my fight-or-flight instincts dialed down, things started coming back to me. I remembered brief flashes now: there had been a group of us, hiking together along a wilderness trail that cut along the mountain. The rumbling had come out of nowhere, and a building flow of falling debris had swept me down the slope and towards my inevitable death. It was clear as day now – rolling with the cascading wave of earth, tumbling ever downward as I screamed, unable to separate the rising ground from the cliff-face, nor from the watching sky.
But I hadn’t died. In fact, as I pulled myself shakily off of the ground, it didn’t feel as if I’d broken any bones whatsoever.
There’s no goddamn way , I thought to myself. This kind of miraculous shit isn’t supposed to happen. I was a fucking goner .
Despite some bruising, and inevitable stiffness that would appear the next morning, I didn’t have so much as a missing tooth or a shattered elbow. My gaze drifted up the slope, tracing the redistribution of dirt and stone. Our hiking group had been walking one of the lower trails, but it was still well out of sight from my vantage point.
How long have I been down here? I wondered to myself. The sun still hung lazily in the sky — if it was the same day, I couldn’t have been unconscious more than a few hours. Thinking quickly, I took stock of myself. My body felt only mildly dehydrated, but I had been a little thirsty before the landslide anyway. Daring to twist my appendages and curve my spine, it appeared that my spry, flexible articulation was still intact. In fact, overlooking some minor scrapes and cuts, I felt fine .
This is too weird , I thought to myself. With eyes veiled in disbelief, I gazed up the slope one last time, marveling at the descent.
But there were other important matters to take care of. I had no food, and I was stranded from my group — who were undoubtedly looking for me. Logic rationed that I was going to be on my own for at least the night, and I needed to find a pure water source and shelter.
With nowhere else to turn, I gazed towards the woods. The earth had carried me squarely to a small clearing at the foot of the mountain, surrounding me on three sides with rock. The only way to advance was directly forward; with certain hesitance, I planted my first foot in that direction.
* * * *
It was only after about an hour of walking that I realized how much beauty filled the forest. As an amateur nature photographer, I appreciated nature’s majesty arguably more than most people my age, but these woods were something entirely else. The very leaves seemed to pop more, shining in brighter, greener colors as the sunlight drifted lazily to cast the canopy in brilliance. The underbrush was somehow far more forgiving than I would have expected, and I realized that I hadn’t nicked myself or scratched my skin on any of the branches as I pushed forward.
Stranger still was the wildlife. It seemed to pay me very little mind, and after taking a small break to catch my breath, I realized that a doe was literally feet away on the other side of a healthy trunk. Only spotting it out of the corner of my eye, I completely expected it to instantly dart away — instead, as I carefully climbed over roots and dips in the soft soil, it amazingly turned to stare me in the eyes. My hands hesitated in the air as an irrational fear crept across my mind. As if approaching a beautiful, delicate monarch butterfly with an intrepid finger, I feared that touching its very fur would harm the docile creature. After a moment of regarding my trembling hands, it lazily trotted off towards a distant bush, eager to munch on the available
Dragging myself out of the heavy mass of sediments and rock chunks, I gasped for air on the ground nearby. As the chemicals wore off and my fight-or-flight instincts dialed down, things started coming back to me. I remembered brief flashes now: there had been a group of us, hiking together along a wilderness trail that cut along the mountain. The rumbling had come out of nowhere, and a building flow of falling debris had swept me down the slope and towards my inevitable death. It was clear as day now – rolling with the cascading wave of earth, tumbling ever downward as I screamed, unable to separate the rising ground from the cliff-face, nor from the watching sky.
But I hadn’t died. In fact, as I pulled myself shakily off of the ground, it didn’t feel as if I’d broken any bones whatsoever.
There’s no goddamn way , I thought to myself. This kind of miraculous shit isn’t supposed to happen. I was a fucking goner .
Despite some bruising, and inevitable stiffness that would appear the next morning, I didn’t have so much as a missing tooth or a shattered elbow. My gaze drifted up the slope, tracing the redistribution of dirt and stone. Our hiking group had been walking one of the lower trails, but it was still well out of sight from my vantage point.
How long have I been down here? I wondered to myself. The sun still hung lazily in the sky — if it was the same day, I couldn’t have been unconscious more than a few hours. Thinking quickly, I took stock of myself. My body felt only mildly dehydrated, but I had been a little thirsty before the landslide anyway. Daring to twist my appendages and curve my spine, it appeared that my spry, flexible articulation was still intact. In fact, overlooking some minor scrapes and cuts, I felt fine .
This is too weird , I thought to myself. With eyes veiled in disbelief, I gazed up the slope one last time, marveling at the descent.
But there were other important matters to take care of. I had no food, and I was stranded from my group — who were undoubtedly looking for me. Logic rationed that I was going to be on my own for at least the night, and I needed to find a pure water source and shelter.
With nowhere else to turn, I gazed towards the woods. The earth had carried me squarely to a small clearing at the foot of the mountain, surrounding me on three sides with rock. The only way to advance was directly forward; with certain hesitance, I planted my first foot in that direction.
* * * *
It was only after about an hour of walking that I realized how much beauty filled the forest. As an amateur nature photographer, I appreciated nature’s majesty arguably more than most people my age, but these woods were something entirely else. The very leaves seemed to pop more, shining in brighter, greener colors as the sunlight drifted lazily to cast the canopy in brilliance. The underbrush was somehow far more forgiving than I would have expected, and I realized that I hadn’t nicked myself or scratched my skin on any of the branches as I pushed forward.
Stranger still was the wildlife. It seemed to pay me very little mind, and after taking a small break to catch my breath, I realized that a doe was literally feet away on the other side of a healthy trunk. Only spotting it out of the corner of my eye, I completely expected it to instantly dart away — instead, as I carefully climbed over roots and dips in the soft soil, it amazingly turned to stare me in the eyes. My hands hesitated in the air as an irrational fear crept across my mind. As if approaching a beautiful, delicate monarch butterfly with an intrepid finger, I feared that touching its very fur would harm the docile creature. After a moment of regarding my trembling hands, it lazily trotted off towards a distant bush, eager to munch on the available
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