Sandra growls as she strokes your stomach, stimulating the two pairs of nipples that have budded below your expanding human breasts. You respond in kind as
she rests her head against your furry shoulder.
"Howl for me," she snarls, stroking your completely gray mane. "Become for me."
You look up at the moon as if for the first time, your heart pounding in your chest as Sandra softly caresses your budding teats.
"Howl," She says more ardently, her now husky voice sounding very sexy, "you won't be able to go any further until you do."
Somehow, you sense she's right, from the feeling that is welling up from your diaphragm, building in your chest until you begin to tremble slightly. Your lips quiver
and then it becomes too much for you and you part them in mournful song, your long, lonely cry echoing in the hillside. Sandra clutches you close to her, savoring
the warmth of your closeness and joins you in ululation, your duet blending into a frightful sense of unity.
"I...I did it! What happens now?"
"Good things..."
You each look at each other with a sort of anticipation, waiting for the inevitable. Sandra is the one it overtakes first, as the sparse, downy grey growth on her
naked body comes alive, tangling, lengthening, and thickening into something more substantial, resolving into paler fur upon her front and darker growth on her
shoulders and back.
She looks with interest to you, her eyes golden, almost luminous. You examine yourself, wondering what she sees, and gasp savagely at the sight. Around your
neck and collarbone, all the way down to between your breasts, a silvery white growth sprouts, blossoming into a splayed ruff of fur, the individual hairs easily a
foot in length. Sandra begins to stroke it with one hand, the other wandering down between your legs only to be greeted with a thick mound of pale fur concealing
your sex.
You reach your arm around her, running your clawed fingers through the massive shaggy hackles that have sprouted about her back and shoulders. Caressing along
her spine, you find an odd lump at the base and knead at it with curiosity. Your touch is rewarded with the nub's growth, and you stroke, watching in wonderment
as it develops into a bushy wolfish tail.
You look up, your gaze meeting hers, and you see how her face has changed. Her eyebrows are bushy and wild beyond belief, arching to points where the hairs
become impossibly long, blending into her mane. At her hairline, a fierce widow's peak juts down almost to between those same eyebrows. Her cheeks are tufted,
the long shaggy growth hanging down below her jawline. Her lips are dark, like an animal's, drawn back in a demi-snarl to show her yellowed, sharp teeth. Her
nose is discoloured, purplish blue, and turned up almost into a snout. You gasp to see her savage countenance, and you feel your own face, discovering much the
same.
"S...Sandra," you stutter.
"Don't call me Sandra. It doesn't feel like me anymore. Call me Ashmane!"
"I...it suits you!"
"It just came to me. It seems natural. You must be feeling that too."
You pause for a second, and realize that she is right once again, and you speak, "Y-yes, I do. I'm not who I used to be. I'm Snowclaw!"
"Now, Snowclaw, you were saying?"
"What are we becoming?"
Ashmane nuzzles your cheek, and whispers in your ear, "Mates..."