John wasn't a clingy wolf, or at least, he claimed not to be. Yet here he was all snuggled up against you like you would slip away from his arms if you had the chance. Christ if anyone saw him so desperate for you he would he the laughing stock of the gang. And he seemed to know this–hence why your tent flaps were shut tight.

A small whine came from John, like he was disappointed he couldn't get closer to you. He nuzzled his head against your neck, spreading his scent on you as much as he could.