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Wilbur never would have expected a werewolf’s den to be so cozy.
For the hunter’s entire life, he had been taught one simple thing – werewolves were real, and they were vicious and cruel. Their dens were places that reeked for death and despair. Should he ever find himself face-to-face with a werewolf, he had better pray to all the gods that he’d be spared their savage wrath. Of course, back then, when he had questioned exactly how much experience these “werewolf hunters” had, they’d always let him know that they had gathered all their information for folktales and nursery rhymes. Wilbur had always chalked it up to parents wanting to keep their children out of the woods, and the white lie being stretched too far.
Now?
Well, now he knew that there was some truth to every lie.
It had all started so casually, meeting Quackity a few times on his hunting trips – the man had been so kind and helpful, Wilbur couldn’t pick up on any ill intentions from him. That led into regularly hunting together, and the hunter found the other charming. But everything nearly fell apart when those stupid werewolf hunters had tried to kill them – under the assumption Quackity was a werewolf that had turned Wilbur in order to slowly destroy the village from the inside out.
They were right about Quackity being a werewolf, but wrong about everything else. Quackity had changed, gotten them out of there and explained everything to Wilbur – and Wilbur? Well, he adjusted quite well to discovering that werewolves were real but were actually peaceful and kind. They didn’t even get revenge on Wilbur’s village, Quackity only left Wilbur’s side to help retrieve his things.
It was the third month of winter and the second month of the year – the month of the Quickening Moon, the werewolves called it. And while Wilbur could tell it was starting to warm up, it was still very cold. That’s why he remained in the main nest of the werewolf den. It was made up of so many cozy furs and warm blankets. And while the hunter missed the warmth of a fireplace, the warmer of the werewolves had repeatedly allowed him to use their own heat by cuddling up to him in their wolf form.
“Wilbur?” A gentle voice called, so soft he almost missed it.
Wilbur shifted up to look at the entrance, “Yes?”
“You’re awake, good,” Niki beamed at him, her red eyes practically glowing, “I brought you some food.”
“Thank you, Niki,” Wilbur looked down at the tray the woman carried, “Are the other’s going to join?”
“Oh… they’re currently eating, actually… it’s a bit more raw than you’d like your meat though” Niki answered.
Which meant that they had hunted something and hadn’t even bothered waiting to shift to eat, “Oh, well it’s nice that you remembered me.”
“Oh, Quackity was very insistent! He actually wanted to eat with you, but he got distracted by something else. He’ll be back short though,” Niki gave him a wink, “Anyway, I prepared you some curried lamb with barley and a braided bread loaf.”
With that, Niki set down his tray of food, and giggled knowingly as she left the room. Wilbur was… suspicious at that… but Wilbur couldn’t complain. Quackity had been acting odd the entire day, but if Niki was winking and giggling, it probably meant that it was something good – she had made it very clear that she was more on his side than Quackity’s. So, he just enjoyed his meal, the warmth settled nicely in his stomach.
Once he was done with that, he turned his attention back to his book. It was one of the many gifts Quackity had given him during the couple of months he had been staying with Quackity’s pack. It was too dangerous to leave with the self-proclaimed werewolf hunters after him, but Wilbur had asked Quackity to search the entire area for any potentially safe villages for him to potentially move into. Quackity had also offered to just turn him into a werewolf so he could stay with them permanently, and Wilbur had been considering it but hadn’t agreed to anything.
Wilbur’s attention had ended up being stolen away from his lovely little novel by a sudden loud noise. He looked up and noticed Quackity entering the den with, face red from the cold with a small smile on his face. In his arms was one of the warm winter cloaks that he had brought for Wilbur, along with some other warm attire – that caught the hunter’s attention.
“Quackity, hey,” Wilbur greeted.
Quackity grinned, red eyes flashing, “Wilbur! You up for a little walk?”
“A walk?” Wilbur raised an eyebrow, “What have you got planned for me now, Quackity?”
“I just want to steal you away for a moment” Quackity blinked innocently, “The pack is nice, but the children clinging to you does kinda ruin the chance for us to spend time alone together.”
“That is a fair complaint. So, you want to take me somewhere private then?” Wilbur teased.
Quackity shook his head, still smiling, “Just get your warm shit on and follow me, treasure.”
Wilbur laughed but complied with the request. He pulled on a warm doublet, warm gloves and his thick hooded cloak. Quackity put on his own cloak, despite the fact that he was one of the werewolves that didn’t need to be bundled up – Quackity had said something about red-eyed werewolves being able to withstand extreme weather better due to some kind of fire element? Wilbur wasn’t too certain on the details; all he knew was that Quackity’s pack had a lot of red-eyed werewolves who were all very warm.
The hunter let the werewolf lead him out the door, and immediately realized that the other had planned a lot more than he let on. A pathway had been cleared in the snow, lined by lanterns that gently flickered in the candlelight. It wasn’t like any experience Wilbur ever had before, and he found his face flushing for a different reason than they had been when he walked out there. Quackity just took Wilbur’s hand and led him further down the path.
The moonlight shined brightly down on the scene, not quite a full moon but it was getting close. As they followed the charming, candle lit pathway, Wilbur noticed a large fire in the distance. He had a hunch that was where Quackity had been planning to take him.
Wilbur realized rather quickly what Quackity had done – a whole bunch of blankets, pillows and furs had been compiled into a makeshift nest in front of a bonfire, with plenty of torches around to provide plenty of warmth. There was also a basket set off to the side, and some bottles arranged nicely by the fire to keep them warm.
“What’s all this for?” Wilbur asked, a little breathless.
Quackity gently tugged him towards the pile, “I figured you’d enjoy a bit of stargazing. I’ve always found stargazing during winter was special, and it’s finally starting to warm up enough that I’m confident it won’t kill you.”
“Alright, that’s too cute,” Wilbur said with a laugh and a blush, “What else are you planning?”
“I have some nice, mulled wine for us to share,” Quackity answered, “Along with a couple of gifts for you.”
“You have gotten me too much already, Quackity!”
“And I’ll get you plenty more gifts, mi cielo.”
Wilbur huffed a little at that, which only earned him a loud laugh from the werewolf as he was tugged into the makeshift nest. Quackity was right of course, the night sky looked amazing in the winter, and Wilbur was excited at the prospect of spending the night looking at the stars. But he still hated the feeling of being in debt to Quackity. He knew the other was used to taking care of others, but Wilbur still wanted to return the favor.
“How about toast? To an unlikely friendship between a hunter and a werewolf leading to something much sweeter than this wine,” Quackity offered with a raised glass.
Wilbur linked their arms together and smiled, “A toast to us.”
Though the hunter may not have been able to taste the wine well at all, he could still feel the warmth fill him from the drink. Besides, having to lean in so close to Quackity to be able to drink it certainly added to the charm and appeal, even if he could do so with any drink. Wilbur felt his cheeks warm once again at the closeness between them. Quackity didn’t appear as phased at all, if anything he appeared amused at Wilbur’s flustered reaction.
“Now,” Quackity grinned, “Which one of your gifts would you like to open first?”
Wilbur rolled his eyes, “which one do you want to give me first?”
“Well, we can start with this one,” Quackity stated as he pulled out the biggest parcel.
“Of course,” Wilbur sighed.
Quackity leaned back, completely unrepentant in his excessive gift giving. Wilbur just slowly unwrapped the gift, anticipation boiling in his stomach. When he finally revealed the gift to himself, he gasped. In his lap sat the most beautifully carved bow he had ever seen. Wilbur ran his hands over the engravings in awe. Never in his life had anyone gifted him something so thoughtful – Wilbur almost wanted to cry tears of joy at the revelation. He almost wanted to forget the rest of the gifts and wrap his arms around Quackity.
“Don’t look at me like that at the first gift, mi amor” Quackity placed a hand on his cheek, “I have plenty more to give.”
“Quackity!”
Quackity shook his head, “No complaining, only complete acceptance of what you’re getting.”
Wilbur just laughed in disbelief as he was handed another package. Unwrapping this one earned him more books that interested him – some hunter guides, a book on werewolf pack dynamics, a book on werewolf cultural beliefs and religious views, and a couple of cute romance novels. The third gift he was handed was a deck of tarot cards. An interesting option, he had never used tarot cards before, but learning a new thing could be fun. The cards even came with a guide so he could learn the meanings. And with all those out of the way, Quackity only had one last present to give to Wilbur.
“Now, I’ve saved the best for last,” Quackity handed him this gift, “And this one is… well, I put a lot of thought into it.”
Quackity appeared more vulnerable in that moment, and Wilbur almost held his breath as he was handed the last gift. A small parcel, not many things could fit in such a small package. Yet in that moment, nothing came to Wilbur’s mind. His hands were nearly shaking he undid the covering and revealed the final gift to himself.
Beautiful didn’t begin to describe it. A necklace sat before him, a silver chain that glimmered with small lapis lazuli beads, all coming together to a large lapis lazuli that was shaped into a crescent moon. Wilbur almost hesitated to touch it, it was wonderful. Wilbur might not have known much about werewolves, but he knew how much they valued the moon. Gemstones also weren’t easy to come by. Wilbur knew that Quackity had some, but he didn’t realize he had something like that – had he brought that just for Wilbur?
“I don’t know what to say,” Wilbur whispered.
Quackity titled his head with a vulnerable smile, “You don’t need to say anything. Here, turn around so I can help you put it on. I want to see what it looks like on you.”
Wilbur couldn’t do anything but comply with the request. He turned his back to Quackity, who took the necklace from Wilbur’s hands and slowly draped it over Wilbur’s head. When the werewolf had finally closed the clasp, Wilbur turned back to face him. Quackity… the look Quackity gave Wilbur had him flushing from his face down to neck, he wanted to turn away and hide. His eyes shone with equal parts admiration, desire and reverence, and the hunter couldn’t handle it.
“You’re beautiful,” Quackity whispered.
Wilbur turned away, “You don’t need to be so excessive, you know?”
Quackity titled Wilbur’s face back so they could look each other in the eyes, “I mean every word. You must know how I feel about you, neither of us have been subtle.”
“If we say it out loud it becomes real,” Wilbur replied, “And I don’t know if I could deal with the heart break.”
“Then don’t worry about that,” Quackity countered, “Focus on the here and now. What do you want in this moment? What would make you happy now?”
Wilbur didn’t hesitate to press his lips to Quackity’s own.
Quackity had a point – why worry about the future when the present was so beautiful? And all he wanted in that moment was to watch the stars with the werewolf he loved.