[38F4A] The Wolf Skin in the Attic

I always loved the cabin up north. Well, "cabin" is maybe too modest a word -- it's a ramshackle three story chalet, complete with attic and cellar, sitting on its own lot of land isolated from the nearest town by a winding dirt road and a thicket of old growth forest. I always did my best writing while I was up there -- Gothic horror novels for the most part, generally pretty different from my normally sunny disposition. The world was far away while I was at the cabin, and even nowadays the cell phone service is notoriously spotty.

And of course the sex was fantastic. Mountain air, maybe. But now that I'm divorced (I still can't believe he cheated on me with a choir director) I'm looking at a long, lonely summer, with nothing but me, and the cabin, and the woods.

And the dreams. Oh yes.

Always there were the dreams, dreams of roaming the woods at night, dreams of prowling naked under the moon, bathed in pale light, dreams of running wild forever. Waking from these dreams was usually what led to such lovely sex with my now-gone husband. Well, maybe there'll be someone at the cafe in town I can meet at a poetry slam, or something. I'm open.

Of course now that I have to see to the house's upkeep myself, I have the chance to poke around all those forgotten corners I never quite got to explore while I was married. A Sears catalog from 1954 in the second floor bathroom? Someone must have used it for toilet paper back when Eisenhower was President. Those Currier & Ives prints down in the cellar look genuine. And a stack of Pat Boone vinyl records in the den? Well, not everyone has good taste.

And then there's the trunk in the attic.

I was shocked when I opened it, maybe even terrified -- well wouldn't you be if you found a wild animal in a locked dusty steamer chest? But it turned out to just be a pelt ... a skin from what must have been an enormous wolf. In perfect condition, too, not at all mangy or moth-eaten.

For some reason it makes me think of my dreams. And ... why, it looks like it has straps for the arms, the legs, and the neck ... as if it were meant to be worn.

It's still lurking in that chest. But my dreams have been stronger ever since I found it.

I don't think it would take much of a nudge to convince me to wear it.

Hello you lovely DPPers...open to anything at all for a partner. No children, no scat, and of course -- hopefully tf and anthro in the near future...