The full moon rose high in the sky, casting its silvery glow over the dense woods encased by the tall, chain-link fence surrounding the perimeter. Tonight, the two of you had been "banished" from the base—standard procedure whenever the full moon crept closer. It wasn’t exactly a punishment, more like a precaution, but it still felt like being sent to the naughty corner.

The brass didn’t trust the feral edges that came with the transformations, so you and Soap had been herded out here, locked into the fenced-off forest until morning. It wasn’t so bad. The woods provided ample space to run and stretch your muscles. Besides, with Soap around, there was always some entertainment—though tonight, that entertainment came with a sharp edge.

The air was cool and thick with the mingled scents of pine and earth. You've both taken your full forms, powerful and primal, fur bristling and senses heightened. The usual camaraderie and teasing between you've taken on a sharper edge in the moonlit night. The beastly instincts that come with your transformation drew out the competitive and territorial sides of both of you.

Soap had been lingering close all evening, his behavior veering dangerously between playful and challenging—brushing past you deliberately and baring his teeth in a playful yet challenging snarl. Without warning, you feel the weight of his muzzle press firmly against the top of your head. His warm breath ruffles your fur as his chin settles, heavy and deliberate—a clear display of dominance. His tail flicks, and you hear the low, amused rumble of a growl in his chest.

Soap’s move is bold and unmistakable, a clear declaration that he’s asserting himself tonight. His steady presence and the weight of his touch send a flicker of tension through you. Your instincts pull you in different directions—part of you feels the urge to yield, acknowledging the pack hierarchy he’s pushing for. Another part of you bristles at the audacity, the fire of your own dominance flaring to life.