There are some house rules that I thought would be wise to follow where the Woods-Mother was concerned. House Rules, you see, because I had functionally been using her body as a house for weeks. Months?

Time is hard.

Anyway. When Mom is angry, it's usually wise to hole yourself up in your room or leave the house until she’s calmed down. When your allegorical Mom is also your room, it's wise to take a literal hike.

She had promised me shelter from the storm and from Typhon. Her every word was burnt into my mind and repeated itself more and more as I aimlessly wandered through the woods, gently hopping from heavy root to massive rock, following the small but well-used deer trails left by generations of forest critters where I could.

I actually enjoyed walking through the woods after all. Even if . It was one of the things I’d missed most about being alive. Nature. Hence why I stuck to well-established trails as best I could. There was absolutely no way I was about to go walking through an undergrowth full of untamed bushes and wild flowers barefoot.

Except they weren’t really deer trails, were they? That was the thing I’d been trying to impress upon the Woods-Mother. I don’t think I succeeded.

I close my eyes and hum to myself for a moment. I’d tried arguing with her and it had turned out poorly. Part of why I could so clearly remember nearly every word we’d said to one another was that, while I knew that my points were true and that I was the only one capable of acting to solve those problems, I could also clearly see all the ways in which I was out of practice speaking with another living creature. That was something I struggled with all on its own. Forget trying to convince somebody of basic facts of their world that contradicted the fiction they thought they’d been living.

Referring to the Woods-Mother as ‘mom’ wasn’t just a tool of sarcasm. It has struck me plenty how motherly, or grandmotherly, her tone or posture were at times. I’m sure the Woods-Mother was slow to anger but impossible to calm when she was. Thinking of her as one, and myself as a child, would probably carry me a long way in how I should shape and present the harsh truths of the world.

This world had animal populations which were self-sustaining. It also had many that were not. And among those animals - a thing I meant in a non derogatory manner, unless they liked that - were also the many Monstergirls I had seen in that liminal space between being outside and being a part of this world. It was very difficult to maintain a population which contained a single sex. It was impossible to do so when your history and world entire accounted for many generations preceding you, and for children being born, but provided no ways for them to have those children. Whatever vague awareness of sex the Woods-Mother had was likely not the same thing as a tacit understanding of how childbirth, or agriculture, or even just a sustainable nomadic or migratory lifestyle worked. A knowledge that I was sure other things living in this world had less knowledge of than her.

“And I’m still talking out loud, aren’t I?” I come to a stop as I realize I still can’t keep track of that. Then that realization goes sideways as I try to figure out if it was just that question, or my entire thought process, which I’d been saying aloud.

“It would be convenient if I was and you were listening to it, oh Woods-Mother.” I decide it doesn’t matter and continue down the beaten path. A strong gust of wind sends a shiver up my spine. The storm is getting closer. I’ve wandered further than I have before. I ought to turn back soon. “Though I’m sure that no matter how much of this you can hypothetically hear it isn’t doing much to convince you I’m not insane. So I’ll do so with my actions instead of my worlds.”

“Is, was, will be. I was talking to the Woods-Mother, I will be taking shelter from the storm with her, I was walking through the woods afterwards… was, was, will, will, no, no no…” I hum a nonsense tune to myself as I ignore my own advice and continue walking further down the path than I’d ever gone before. “I’m a mere prisoner to my feet~” I try to sing. I knew before I even began that it would be horrifically off key, but I still have to try out dumb ideas before I get to the good ones.

Something niggles at me. I’d forgotten to try and figure out if Typhon was a metaphor, didn’t I? That wasn’t fun. Or it wouldn’t be. I hope the Woods-Mother was simply referencing some folktale that, by cosmic coincidence, shared a name with the Greek myth. Was the Father of all Monsters waiting to pass overhead? If a raging formless storm was around to shove its dick in my face and tell me that I was in fact entirely incorrect and just making random assumptions based on my incomplete memories of this world I’d probably be pissed for the few seconds it took for Typhon to smoosh me beneath a finger made of thundering clouds.

No, no. That’s not right. That won’t be right. Will not be was will was will won’t can’t can - that’s closer… I’m still not grasping something. Something vital.

“Did I forget how to think in the present tense?” I mutter to myself in realization. “I am walking through the woods. Not I was walking through the woods. Not I will walk through the woods. I am speaking in the present tense and should be thinking in the present tense because this is the present tense. I’ve caught up on my own reflections. This is not a story. I am not a story. I am here and now and real.” I smack my fist into my palm with a satisfied nod. I’d finally figured it out!

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

“I’m an idiot!” I declare with a laugh. Something rustles in front of me.

“What?!?” The woman who steps out of the underbrush declares. It’s a fair question.

My eyes ran over her in a heartbeat. Tan skin. A wild but kept mane of silver-gray hair. Piercing golden eyes. Breasts and thighs she could smother me in and the abs and the height to choke me out for asking. Cute little wolf ears that were perked up in curiosity and a tail cautiously swaying behind her. Normal hands crossed beneath her bust and normal feet quietly tapping against the ground in impatience make it clear that this is where the woman in front of me’s monstrous traits end.

My throat chokes as I realize I am, unfortunately, a little smitten nonetheless.“Oh. Why hello there!” I beat my chest to clear out my throat and try to avert my eyes from the Wolfgirl’s… Wolfwoman’s? From the Wolf’s chest.

“Were you… confusing the past and future with the present?” She cautiously tested the words as though she couldn’t believe she had to ask at all. I couldn’t blame her for that.

“Yes. Yes, I do think I was. I feel rather silly about it.” I nod with a snort. It was going to be… very, very nasty trying to stop myself from confusing past, present, and future again. The Wolf looks me up and down, audibly sniffing, before her somewhat relaxed posture grows a bit tenser.

“I’ve raised my daughter -” She tries to cautiously begin.

“No you haven’t.” I cut her off before I can think to stop myself. “Sorry. Really gotta get this whole mouth-brain filter thing back under control.” I slap my cheeks. The woman, reasonably, frowns and closes the meager distance between us in a few steps.

“Care to repeat that?” She jabs a finger against my chest. She was looming over me in a way that made it clear I’d somehow underestimated her height. She’s at least a good foot taller than me.

I try to clear my throat and meet the Wolf’s positively livid eyes. It’s very hard when her nipples are in my face. If I tried to stick my tongue out I'd just end up licking them. “Well, maybe you have subjectively, but objectively I doubt that you’ve actually gone through childbirth-”

“Are you insinuating that my daughter is not my own?” She jabs at me again. It forces me to take a step back unless I want to be bowled over, and I keep stepping back even after I've find my balance just to try and keep it.

“Well that’s a frightening philosophical question,” I search for the right words and prove I’ve learnt nothing instead as I put a meaningless amount of distance between us. “I’d assume she is in every way that matters, maybe even in blood, but still, I rather doubt you’ve seen this b-” I try to gesture towards my currently throbbing dick.

“Why would I not know what a penis is?” She cuts me off.

“Oh c’mon!”

“I don’t know what you are, or how living with one of those works,” She gestures at my dick. “But I hate to break it to you that I haven’t lived this long without seeing two rabbits going at it.” She snorts.

“...How long have you lived, then?”

“A while?”

“You don’t know?”

“Do you?”

I raise one finger. I lower it. “That's fair,” I concede.

“Right. Well then. I was willing to give you the benefit of the doubt earlier but you’re unquestionably a lunatic. I’m not interested in whatever ‘Oh, she’s not your daughter!’ nonsense you’re going to sprout if I let you keep talking. So here’s the deal.” The Wolf holds up her hand and flexes her fingers just a little. A ripple of silver-gray fur spreads up her wrist like wind passing through grassy plains as, in less than a moment, her hand becomes a wolf’s paw.

A paw that happens to be baring some very nasty looking claws my way. I’m sure that if storm clouds weren’t blotting out the sun they’d be gleaming. Her other hand, now also a paw, rests on her hips.

“You leave these woods and don’t come back or I take out the bundles of stress I am just. Barely. Holding in right now. Got it?” She snarls and swipes at a tree at her side. It’s not an impressive elderly oak, but it’s no willowy sprout either. A heart-wrenching crack echoes through the woods as both myself and the tree seem to jolt at the sound. Then, just as I’ve process that a tree can’t jolt, it starts to fall towards the wolf with a groan. Then she slaps it and it begins to fall much, much faster in the other direction.

The forest floor shakes beneath my feet when it comes crashing down like thunder. Words fail me as I stare at the almost cartoonish treestump that one quick gesture had made. I eye the very, very cleanly cut tree before me and regret how much I’d already shoved my foot into my mouth. If I could cut down a tree that easily…

“That was your one warning. You’re in my pack’s territory. Leave, or I take a pound of your flesh for every bit of daylight you make me waste.” The Wolf points the way I came. I nod. I wasn’t going to be doing that when I hadn’t even apologized for bungling my arguments a second time.

“Hm. Mhm. I don’t think so. However, I also thiiiiuh-oh!” I cry and duck as the Wolf closes the distance between us even quicker than before. A dull thud echoes through the forest as the claws that had been aiming for my throat sink into the broad tree behind me, not quite able to cleave it in twain.

That had been a disconcertingly quick attack. It was only slightly less upsetting than the promise of a follow-up the moment the Wolf freed herself from the tree with a huff and an angry glare.

“Now that-” Thumk “-was just-” Thunk“-rude!” Thunk! She strikes at me three more times in quick succession. Each time she does I retreat deeper into the underbrush, where the trees are more densely packed and I have an easier time trying to be snarky before I have to yelp in fear and barely dodge out of the way of the next strike.

With her claws sunk into yet another tree too large for her to cleave through in one motion, the Wolf stops to catch her breath and glare at me. “Is this… Just how much dumb luck do you have?!?” She cries in frustration.

“I’d like to think it’s at least a little bit skill.” I tilt my head like a confused child.

“Just shut up!” She pulls herself free and launches herself at me for a fifth time. I was prepared to just barely dodge another swipe aiming for my face. I was not prepared for her to outright tackle me.

The two of us roll over one another, mud and leaves sticking to us as we bang against a treetrunk. The wolf snaps at me with too-sharp teeth and tries to claw at me. My dick thwaps against her crotch while I drive my knee into her gut to try and force her away from me. The two of us grapple one another like we’re one Looney Toons theme away from kicking up a cloud of dust.

I hadn’t learned anything at all from my talk with the Woods-Mother, had I? That didn’t feel fair. I’d done all that self reflection earlier. But here I was trying to stop another woman I’d angered with a truth I knew I should’ve been more gentle about as she tries to maim me.

It looked like I was going to have to take the forceful way out this time.