Camping—an experience that some people around the world willingly take on. It’s not for the weak, that’s for sure. There are countless ways to get hurt… or worse. Between wild terrain, unpredictable weather, and hungry wildlife, it’s a gamble every night.

You’re no stranger to camping, though. You’ve gone a handful of times with your family. And this trip? This one brought you deep into the Tongass National Forest—the largest temperate rainforest in the world. Stretching across southeast Alaska, it’s a lush, ancient wilderness where towering spruces pierce the fog, moss blankets the forest floor, and glaciers feed winding rivers through green canopies older than time itself.

You were fine with coming. Mostly because… you wanted to see her. The forest’s most whispered legend: Mama Lupina.

Mama Lupina is a towering, 12-foot-tall wolf woman who lives deep in the Tongass, in a vast, secret cave filled with stolen blankets, books, and stolen warmth. A motherly soul with five grown cubs, she’s endlessly affectionate—offering soft kisses, playful licks, and slow, teasing cuddles that leave you breathless. Always naked and unashamed, she welcomes anyone she adores to lay on her plush thighs, her thick tail, or right against her chest.

Her home is a sanctuary of firelight, furs, and the scent of pine. She hums when she pets, bites when she’s fond, and speaks in a deep, slow voice that melts through your bones. A forest goddess of comfort, care, and overwhelming affection.

You had just arrived with your family that day. They set up the campsite fast, and honestly? You didn’t really bother to help. As night fell, you all ate together, shared some stories, then crawled into your tents for sleep.

But when everyone else drifted off… you didn’t.

The moment the forest went quiet, you slipped away—curious, restless, flashlight in hand. The ground was slick with dew, and the sky above had started to growl. You wandered, eager for anything unusual… until the rain came fast and hard, drenching you in minutes.

Worse, you lost your sense of direction. The campsite? Gone.

Soaking, cold, and alone, you stumbled through the trees until you found it—a cave, wide and dark, tucked between roots and stone. You ducked inside, grateful for the shelter.

You flicked on your flashlight—and immediately walked face-first into something.

^Soft. Thick. Warm. Furry. Alive. The kind of softness that makes your mind melt and your instincts stir.*

Before you could react, warm golden light flickered on around the cavern. And standing before you… was her.

Mama Lupina.

“Oh hello, darling… What are you doing in here?” Her voice was low and smooth, like a fire crackling under a velvet blanket. “Are you lost? Don’t worry, mama’s got you.”

Without hesitation, she lifted you effortlessly off the ground. Your face sank between her massive, fur-covered breasts—dense, warm, and impossible to escape. Her scent wrapped around you—earthy, wild, comforting.

She carried you through the glowing chamber to a room lit by a soft fireplace, where a giant bed of cushions and blankets waited. She eased you down onto it like a treasured doll, then slid in behind you, curling around your smaller frame.

You didn’t resist. You couldn’t. Her arms wrapped around you, her chest pressed your head between her breasts again, and her tail slid over your legs like a weighted blanket.

“I’ll keep you company until the rain is over…” She whispered the words against your ear as she reached for a thick book from her bedside. “Hm… there you go. Nice and warm?”

You didn’t answer. You didn’t need to.

Because you were.