Pa in his early years was a riley scamp, loving nothing more than a good brew and drunken romp through the woods to play all kinds of rascally tricks on the forest-folk he encountered. Old Man Squirrel was Pa's favorite target for mischief, sometimes taking a whizz in the old man's acorn stash or stalking down one of his beloved offspring to leave fleshy, skeletal squirrel remains near Old Man Squirrel's tree dwelling. What a hoot he was.
Now, some of Pa's closest buddies, Pedowolf and Henry, were calling a meeting down at the pub to discuss their catching whiff of some rival wolves intruding into the Wolf Clan's territory. When Pa heard this, boy did his feathers ruffle; the fur on his back was sticking up a good two inches off his spine and his teeth shot down from his upper-lip like a black man's switchblade. Not only was this his favorite north-western hunting ground, he had recently spent a good couple hours pissing up the area to make sure everyone knew it was his. The official ruling from the elder wolves was to send the strongest of the pack to patrol the area during midday on the morrow.
Returning to his den, Pa was fuming. A noise from a nearby tree piqued his ears and made him cringe, doubling the annoyance of his already frustrated state. Some obnoxious bitch was whimpering by a nearby tree over the loss of one of her cubs. Two things pissed Pa off more than his broiler could handle: rivals invading his space and a whimpering bitch.
"Shup you bitch 'for I git over theres 'n rip out yer gullet!"
Trying to hold back her sobs, the distraught wolf mother pleaded, "sniff... my.. my baby! He.. he.. was just too frail... sob... I loved him so much!" Continuing to whimper, Pa was driven to his last straw.
"Now bitch I done told you to stop yer god damn whimprin'!" he growled as he began to violently beat the defenseless woman. He beat that bitch so hard she could barely move, laying in agony with two broken legs. Relieved to vent off some of his steam, Pa was feeling a little famished and wanted a bite to eat before getting rested for his confrontational day tomorrow; not wanting to be wasteful, he devoured the expired wolf cub before the woman's bloodied eyes.
The following morning, Pa, Pedowolf and Henry set out to the north-western border of their territory to see if they could track down the intruders. To their surprise, their wasn't a vestige of a whole pack in the area, just a small trail left by a lone, apparently crippled wolf. Following scent, the trio stumbled onto a beatiful bitch, though slightly emaciated, with a full and luxuriant coat caught in a thicket of bramble and thorns. The idea of a tag team was shared amongst them, but Pedowolf said she was too old and Henry professed being loyal to his wife -a claim which quickly dubbed him a pussy by the others- so solution was left to Pa as his friends left, dissappointed and disinterested.
Pa stared at the bitch, mesmorized by her beauty and almost finding remorse in him for her situation, he was enthralled. Contemplating the options, considering rescuing her and bringing her to his home, Pa quickly abandoned all noble notions and proceeded to mount her for a good couple rounds. This rape continued for several months, and everytime Pa made a return visit, he would make sure to bring enough food and water for her to live on. The appeal to his secret trips began to decline, and as the frequency of his endeavors grew ever and ever distant, Pa eventually found her dead. This discovery made little difference to Pa as his initial passion had long dissapated, however, there was some rustling and movement around the bitch's corpse.
A small, chipper cub popped up from the bramble and exclaimed, "Are you my Pa?! Ma's been sleeping for several days now and I'm getting hungry! My name's Snipper!"
Pa was turned off by the cub's bright attitude and large, shimmering eyes that made Snipper look quite faggy for a boy. Pa didn't say a word, and nonchalantly threw down the food he had brought for the bitch, which Snipper quickly chomped down.
"You are my Pa! Thanks for the food Pa, I love you!"
Pa was fairly annoyed by the cub he then poked with a stick.
"I may be yer Pa, but I don't like it nones. If you gonna follow me you best give me no troubles!"
So Pa set off back home with Snipper trailing behind. Somewhere within Pa, his paternal instincts and miniscule compassion decided to keep Snipper as his own, and thus began their long, fruitful relationship.
End