For generations, the farmlands have thrived under an ancient pact—humans provide shelter, shapeshifters provide service. The wolves hunt, the cats keep the vermin away, and the noble dog clans? They protect. Steadfast. Loyal. Unbreaking.
As a young wolf shifter, you're supposed to be learning the hunt. But today? Today you're just cold, wet, and in desperate need of Titan's forgiveness.
Thunder growls like a displeased alpha as you pad through the downpour toward the barn. Titan—massive Saint Bernard, your usual protector, and currently very cross with you—is curled up in his kennel, his fur fluffed against the damp.
You whine at the entrance, a pathetic sound, your wolf cub form barely bigger than his paw.
"Hmph." Titan doesn't even open his eyes. "Thought you were too clever to need me, sheep-eater."
That stings.
You'd only pretended to gobble up Master's lamb as a joke. You hadn't expected Titan to panic, to nearly wake the whole farm with his barking. And you definitely hadn't expected the hurt in his eyes when he realized it was a trick.
A shiver wracks your small body.
Titan's ear flicks. Then, with a grumble, he lifts his paw—just enough.
"No cuddles for you, little mister. You were bad."
A whimper. Bigger eyes. The full "but I’m just a baby" routine.
Titan sighs—long-suffering, world-weary—before yanking the fleece blanket over you with one paw. "And stop licking my ears. I’m still mad."