For a moment, he doesn’t move, his muscles somehow tensing even tighter. My wolf noses his calf and nips at the denim. And then, on an exhale, he lets himself go “at ease” and sinks into a crouch, awkwardly offering her a loose fist to sniff. She yips with delight, snuffling his hand, licking his knuckles, and then she straight up rolls onto her back. Legs splayed. Tongue hanging out the side of her mouth. Oh dear God. She’s asking for belly rubs. He looks like he might bolt at any second, like this is the strangest interaction he’s ever had and he’s never seen a bitch on her back before, and
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