First Howl

Justin had gone running in the woods every Sunday since coming to Oregon for the summer, but this afternoon was just too hot. Even walking was enough to make the sweat run down his back, his neck, and his smooth muscled chest. He was in peak condition, his runner’s body lean, his every muscle defined. It felt great to run, natural even, but today walking was enough. His sandy hair was damp, and he ran his fingers through it, pushing it back.
He thought he saw something move, between the trees, out of the corner of his eye, and stopped. There was nothing there, or if there was, it was gone now. For the last few weeks he thought he had seen something, sometimes seeming to following along with him at a distance, sometimes seeming to cross in front of him, threading through the underbrush and vanishing right as he managed to focus on it. At first he’d thought it might be a deer, but they would run away, he knew. But then he gradually realized it was lower to the ground than that, whatever it was. He had tried to convince himself that it wasn’t real, that he might have seen something once or twice, and now only thought he saw it because he was expecting to.
Of course, he’d asked around. Justin was a city boy, raised in Columbus, Ohio. So what could it be? His uncle and his cousin hadn’t laughed at him, but didn’t seem too interested, either. Justin felt foolish even asking. Were there bears here? Probably not. And they’d steer clear of him, unless it was a mother with her cub. What else could it be? A coyote? Maybe, but the thing he kept seeing was darker. A wolf?
When he asked that, he thought he saw his uncle’s eyes widen just a little. But he’d just said, “The timber wolves are all gone round here, Justin. But Marc’s seen a few coyotes.” He had started to press the issue, explain that what he saw was darker, heavier somehow, but his own fear of looking foolish had stopped him short. He didn’t want to the stranger from the city jumping at every shadow.
Now here he was in the same woods, thinking that he’d seen it again. There was nothing there. He shook his head. Dumb. He was being dumb. Justin started to move, and then heard a noise. It was coming from his left, right where he’d thought he’d seen it. Swishing, scraping, like the leaves were being brushed across the ground. That could be anything, he thought, a porcupine or a beaver or whatever weird little brown animal lives around here. Or nothing at all.
Twenty minutes later, he reached a clearing in the forest. As he had explored new trails over the weeks, he had come by this same place several times. The woods faded to long green grass leading down to a pond. On either side of the clearing was a small creek. One he could hurdle easily while running, the other was wider and he bounced across a rock in the middle every time he came that way. Now that he thought about it, Justin realized that he didn’t even know which one went into the pond and which one came out of it. The bigger one, he thought, probably comes out. He took a step into the grass and stopped.
There was someone in the pond.

Justin had moved back to the tree line. He was trying to stay as still and silent as he could. He leaned against the heavy trunk of a great old oak, looking around the side of it, keeping himself obscured. Now he felt really odd. Hiding and staring? How embarrassed would he be if he was spotted? Maybe he should go back the way he came. Or walk out and introduce himself. Yeah, right, he thought. I should just go. And that’s what he had decided to do, when the person in the pond swam to the edge closest to where he was. Only a few yards away.
He was beautiful. Justin was stunned. He had never seen a man who looked like that. Never seen a man he had wanted to look at like that. His arms were long, lean, and defined. Not the arms of a weight lighter, more like a swimmer. Graceful, but strong. His chest and stomach were equally defined and lean, and every line and muscle shined with the water running down him. The water covered him from the waist down, and Justin found himself wanting the see the rest of this stranger in front of him. Why? Why did he have these feelings? His heart was racing. He tried to look away, his skin burning.
But that face! His cheekbones were sharp and angled, his chin the same. Justin couldn’t see his eyes, not from here, but his brows were jet black and thin. His lips red, almost full. And his hair! Black, but streaked with white and gray. He wondered if it was dyed. The figure in front of him couldn’t be more than a few years older than him, maybe twenty-five or so. Justin found his eyes looking down at the man’s arms, the flesh rippling as he stretched himself, then back up at that glorious, feral face. And suddenly he could see the stranger’s eyes. They were looking right into his, blue and electric.
“Hello,” he said. Justin froze.

“I’m sorry,” he continued, “I would come out and introduce myself, but… I’m afraid you’ve caught me skinny dipping.” He laughed then, his teeth white and perfect.