He changes into a werewolf after his beloved girlfriend has completely altered his containment chamber. No more chains. Before he can bite her, she starts stuffing food into his mouth.
@internutter/challenge-02526-f336-every-good-boy-deserves-fondness -- Anon Guest
"Y'all throwin' a party?" Of all the hazards they anticipated this day, neighbours had been the last on the list. "That's some good brisket you got there, but why no barbecue sauce?"
"Xylitol," said Gria and Thom together. Gria took over. "We're working on a rescue wolfdog for like three days. You know the story. Owner thought they were a badass until they realised they had a six-hundred-pound predator in their house who viewed their kids as a crunchy snack."
"Oof," said the neighbour. Bengson. "That's why you borrowed the slow grille for the ribs first thing, right?"
"Yeah, they have to be fall-off-the bone," said Thom. "Bad teeth and people food damage."
"Welp. Wish you luck with your magic. Hey, Thom, you okay after handling all that meat?"
"The blood washes off. Gria taught me how."
At least ze decided to be off on other business. Which meant they were free to get everything out of the U-haul and into the basement. Every dog toy in the civilised world had been a part of Gria's epic shopping spree. There were also pig ears, soup bones, and an entire crate of sweetener-free peanut butter.
By the time the sun set, Gria was busy kissing some thick steaks on the grill, and he was spending his last few minutes as a human ferrying rare meat down into some very large doggy bowls. The full moon was looming large on his conscience.
Before his last trip down into the cellar, he kissed Gria and said, "I hope this works, but if it doesn't? I'm so sorry."
"Babe, you're talking to a professional. I've got this. And if you bite me? We'll get a place on the prairies somewhere."
"Yeah. Place on the prairie."
The steaks were ready. Laid on a bed of peanut butter, covered in peanut butter. Gria balanced the tray on her way down into the cellar. Bolting the door shut on the inside. Just in case.
Thom, or rather his wolfy side, was scarfing down some of the half-rendered fat and marrow mixture that Gria usually used for the starvation cases. He was wagging his tail.
"There's my good boy," she crooned. "Want some more? I got some more..." she was not foolish enough to try feeding a full-grown wolf by hand. Not yet. The trick was to get the pettings in whilst they were busy chewing, and wolf-Thom was very busy chewing.
He ran out of stomach capacity by the third layer of steak and did the usual Wolfy greeting of trying to stick his entire tongue into her mouth. Very little change there.
Play time, now. Some shaker toys and at least one destructable to help with his energy levels and then... Gria just tipped out the whole box of toys and watched him go nuts. It was immense fun, even when she ran out of energy and settled down on the mattress.
Tail still wagging, Thom cuddled up next to her and covered her face and neck with doggy slobber.
Dawn came with him sobbing and hugging her in relieved enthusiasm. "It worked! You're alive. Oh my god, you're alive..."
"Told you, babe. I'm a pro."
[Image (c) Can Stock Photo / chrisroselli]
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