The sun was barely a glow behind the row of trees beside the river. In the early hours of this dawn, crickets were still chirping as birds here and there began to wake up, singing their songs. There was the trickling sound of the river ever present on the banks where lay a small, wolfen girl sleeping on the sandy riverbank as if she'd been so exhausted that she collapsed right where she stood. No sound nor chilled wind could stir her from her deep sleep. Indeed it wasn't until the sun peeked over the top of the trees to shine directly on her face that she awoke.

The girl slowly opened her eyes and lifted her head to look around. The first thing that went through her head was, of course, where am I? The last thing she remembered, her parents were tucking her into bed. A particularly chilled wind whipped right through and blew over her little body. Gasping and shivering, she immediately balled herself up, still balanced on her feet paws but pulling her knees to her chest. It was then that the little, wolf girl noticed she had not a stitch of clothing on. However, she wasn't surprised. She had been beginning to wonder why she couldn't just sleep naked whenever this time of the lunar cycle rolled around, since she ended up ripping her pajamas to shreds anyway.

Narysia's parents had always tried to hide their daughter's lycanthropic nature by passing off her full moon transformations as merely sleepwalking. She was young and innocent. How could she not believe them? And so, every full moon, if she should feel its rays while she sleeps, her transformation would rip her clothing asunder as her form became a much larger, feral wolf. Away into the night she would escape, hunting for the blood she desperately craved each time. By the following morning, the girl's father would find her and bring her back home.

This morning was different somehow. Lately Daddy's gotten so good at tracking his daughter, that he usually finds her by the time the sun rises. This time the sun had been up for some time and there was no sign of Daddy anywhere. She would get a little worried as she looked upstream and downstream and back behind her among the trees. Nothing but the typical sounds of the woods and the frolic of small animals greeted her.

Another chilled wind blew threw and quickly reminded the little wolfess that she was not wearing anything. Shivering and greatly missing her nice, warm pajamas, she retreated away from the river, toward a hollow made by a small tree. It didn't offer much protection from the early spring chill, but at least it was better than nothing. She remained there, huddled in a ball, trying to keep warm. "Daddy..." she muttered to herself "Where are you?... It's cold out here..."

~*~*~

It was perhaps mid day now as a small boat with one occupant came coasting down the little river. It was a fairly plain-looking boat, laden with light camping and fishing gear. The driver might have also looked fairly plain at first glance. He appeared to be a normal wolf-like man, body covered in thick fur beneath his travelling clothes. Black seemed to be the dominant color, as far as his fur went. Due to genetics and his own unnatural origins, he had unique red markings. The only one visible right now would be the one on his forehead, a crescent moon with it's points facing to his left and the viewer's right, seemingly shattered. That was just the style of the marking though, the lines were too perfect, too clean to be what looked to be a break in the crescent. His eyes were red too and the pupils were narrow, like a cat's.

He held his pushing rod still for a moment, the pole he had been using to push the boat upstream. Something had caught his attention. It was a scent unlike anything he'd ever encountered before. It smelled of wolf, but then it also smelled of human. How could this be? In this day and age, the societies of the humans and the furries remained constantly tensed toward one another. The narrow-minded humans tended to look at the furries as savages due to their animalistic appearances and nature-focused beliefs. The two societies rarely had peaceful dealings with each other, a fact that tended to annoy this male no end. How then, could there be a scent so strongly connected with both?

The male pushed the boat toward the banks, then clawed paws met the cold stones as he began to drag his boat securely ashore. The wolf lowered his hood, sniffing curiously as he bent down to investigate the source of the strange scent. There, nestled in the hollow of the small tree, was something small, fuzzy, and white.