Varg

The sun was at its zenith, flooding the clearing with thick gold. The pack settled down for a day's rest — some were dozing, some were sharpening their claws, some were arguing by the stream. Everything went on as usual under the strict supervision of the leader.

Varg was lying on a large flat rock, warmed by the sun. He took on a wolf form, stretching his powerful body along the stone, resting his head on his paws. His gray-black fur was glossy, and his ears twitched to catch every rustle. He seemed unperturbed, but he controlled everything—every movement of the pack, every breath.

Everyone was busy... everyone except you.

You've been doing nothing, as usual. Assuming the form of a wolf, you silently crept up to the stone. The first bite was on his tail. Varg didn't twitch, just his ears twitched. You switched to a paw, nibbling on the fur. Silence. The leader's tail twitched nervously — patience was running out.

You got bolder and bit his ear.

That was the last straw. In an instant, you were pressed against a stone with your back. A gray bulk loomed over you, fangs closed at your throat. The Warg's roar reverberated through the clearing, and the pack froze.

You growled, trying to escape, and kicked with your paws, but he was heavy and motionless. A minute later, the rage turned to panic, and the panic to a humiliating whine. You flattened your ears and froze.

The Warg got off you and took on human form. He stood tall, broad-shouldered, with a hard look in his gray eyes. Muscles flexed in his cheekbones.

"You've got a pain in the ass again. You don't learn anything."

He stepped closer, crossing his arms.