Chapter 1
Anamalia
I don’t like going to parties. As a general rule, I don’t attend them. I’m making a concession tonight, I can bend my own rules every few hundred years or so, who is going to be around to remember but me? At least I didn’t have to be around humans this time. I find them such a bore. Too fragile, too young, I would have definitely refused an invite then, but tonight was more out of goodwill than anything else.
My home is currently located boarding werewolf lands and in the spirit of being neighborly, they have invited me to a pack event. What harm could it do spending time with the closest thing to my kind as I could get? Shifting with them under a full moon is about as exciting as l like my life currently, that and watching Netflix. Seriously, I have decided to be as low-stress as possible this century. I deserved some time off, the last World War took a lot out of me. I was going to treat this new decade as a well-deserved vacation of sorts.
The sun is moving more west, looks like I should consider shifting and getting dressed for this evening’s festivities. Stretching my big paws out in front of me, letting my claws grip the concrete before retracting them back between my pads arching my gold furry back in the process. White Dog glared at me from his deck chair while I continued to bend and flex in my big cat form, his stare followed me as I slowly slink by his chair then I bound away headed for the open glass doors. At my quick predator movements, he leaps from his chair and follows me playfully trying to attack my tail as we enter. I stay in my leopard body as White Dog and I bounce up the stairs. We reach my bedroom where I quickly shift to human form. White Dog looks up at me with his loving brown eyes. I am unbelievably jealous of him sometimes, this feeling creeps over me as I look at his sleek white body, for he is exactly what he is and nothing more. He is just a white dog. He doesn’t shift, he belongs in the world of the Canine. Lucky dog. Unfortunately for him he is bound to me for as long as I live, a mistake I made in my early years that I will not repeat again, for the only power we shifters have besides our gift of animal imitation is that of giving the curse of bound life. So here we are a few hundred years into our living arrangement dog and shifter companions for life.
As a human, I am now considered small, about 5’1-ish, muscles wrap themselves around my bones, wavy-strawberry blonde hair trails down to my waist, my body still curves like a woman’s shoulder which seems to be out of vogue as of recently. I struggle to understand what men find attractive in the paper doll bodies women try to emulate. I wouldn’t be able to survive with that little amount of weight on me. I shook my head, I’m probably too old to understand these new age females. No bother, I find power in my human form, I cannot deny I love how no matter how old I get, it still elicits the same reactions from males of all species, dangerous lust. White Dog of course is immune to me at this point, he loves me deeply for more than just my looks, he’s my perfect pet and companion.
My thick solid butt perfectly balances my large perky breasts allowing for my silk tunic to drape and not hang. I had it reproduced from memories of dresses that I had once owned and regretted losing to one thing or another. This one was simple yet sexy, midnight blue in color, hanging off of my left shoulder, backless, collecting itself to create shape at my hips only to flow back out to the floor, easy to slip out of when I shift. I hate losing clothes to shifting and have found simple silhouettes to be my fashion go-to’s if I have to be in human form. My strawberry mane needed to be pulled off my neck due to the heat of the July night, I have found that a simple high placed ponytail was all I need to create drama, along with smokey gold eyes and a gold tassel necklace meant to be worn in reverse, dangling just above the small of my back.
White Dog was not to be outdone by me for the occasion as he nosed through his own collars and clothes, picking a gold and sapphire necklace by whining and prancing in front of it. Honestly, for a warrior and a dog, he has sublime taste. Looking at us you would think that I am an overly dramatic wealthy woman complete with a pampered pooch, harmless as the day is long. Exactly what I was looking for.
White Dog and I walked the few blocks to the Alpha’s house, where the party would be held. This was a full moon party of the Harvest Moon Pack. Tonight was in celebration of a large group of pups turning 18. This would be their first shift and for some an opportunity to sniff out their mates. Werewolves are funny that way, they mate for life. It is a very dramatic undertaking if you ask me. When ware pups turn 18 their inner wolf wakes up, some of them name their alter ego, which is strange if you ask me. Seriously, if I named every animal I shifted into...there is just no way. I experience the same life in the body of a horse as I do as a human. It’s all me, but wolves feel different and it’s not my place to judge. Then to add to the strangeness (my personal favorite part) when they find their “mate” they literally walk up to this person, maybe they know them, maybe they don’t, and just say “mate”, in that person’s face. The second party (male or female, doesn’t matter) can then either accept or deny that person. Denials, in my experience, don’t happen often, but they have happened. I find the whole thing comical. Yelling “mate” in someone’s face is just not my deal. Then the guy “marks” the girl? What kind of prehistoric thing is that? And get this shit, they are not “complete” until they find their mate. In theory, this could take anywhere from minutes to years... I am so lucky I am a shifter and not a werewolf, bless the gods. White Dog knows how I feel about all of this, luckily he won’t let me go alone. He loves the wolves, he finds them grand entertainment. This is why it was so easy to convince him to get Netflix, dog loves his drama. All in all this party promises excitement and a nice jog, possibly in the form of a wolf. Not a bad way to spend a summer Saturday evening, but if this was a horror movie, I’m the stranger that has come to town.
