My Precious Lupical- Razor x Reader

Awake

You woke up feeling the same feeling of fur that you had felt earlier under your skin, but now all around you, underneath your body, atop your body, everywhere.

When you regained your vision, you realized that you were lying on a sheepskin, and that the boy- Razor- from before was lying on top of you, wrapping his body around you. His eyes were closed but his breathing was steady, signifying that he was only asleep, not unconscious. Gently, you slid out from underneath him without waking him up, and examined your surroundings.

You were in a cave that was open to the outside world, and furnished sparsely, or rather not at all. The only furniture, if you could call it that, was two sheepskins lying on the ground, presumably to sleep on. The other one was probably for Razor, but he had forgotten it, instead choosing to sleep on top of you. Or had the person that had carried your bodies here placed him that way? Questions, questions...

You heard the wolf boy yawning, then you saw him stretch before opening his amber eyes and staring directly at you. His gaze was a bit unnerving at first, and it made your heart beat faster, like you were in danger, but you got used to it quickly, and everything was normal again in your heart.

Until the young man spoke.

"Who... are you? Are you... Razor's friend?"

Every word sounded like it hurt him to say, yet his voice was so deep and soft that you felt like you could fly on it like a cloud. Your heart began skipping beats, and your stomach flipped over like a pancake.

"If you want me to be," you responded with a gentle smile, to try and soothe the wolf boy. "I tried to save you when I saw you unconscious in Dragonspine, but when I got back to Wolvendom to bring you back to where you lived, I fell unconscious as well, due to all the pain of my cuts, bruises, and frostbite. I thought I felt fur underneath me though, so it seems as if one of your kind has brought us here."

"Not... my kind. Razor not wolf... and Razor not human. Razor... a hated creature," the wolf boy said, hanging his head in clear sadness.

"A hated creature? Why are you hated so, Razor?" you asked him.

"Razor doesn't know!" he cried out. "People... they look away when they see Razor... wolves do not hunt with Razor... wolves bite and hurt me... I'm different, and this makes me sad."

You reached out and ran your hands through his tangled hair, making him growl softly in shock. He got into it quickly, though, and he smiled at you, revealing his pointed teeth.

"You are... kind. You smell nice too. Razor thinks you... are friend... to him," the wolf boy said, reveling in your gentle touch against his hair and skin.

"Yes, Razor," you said to him, "yes, I am your friend."

The wolf boy smiled at you, and leaned his head against your stomach, placing it in the exact same way you had placed it when he was unconscious. You were a little shocked by that, but you allowed it, mainly because he was extremely cute and he probably had some sort of post-traumatic stress, or whatever the equivalent was to wolves, from nearly freezing to death. Anything that helped relieve that stress and make him feel better was okay for you.

A few minutes later, after doing literally nothing but lying down, you heard the sound of a chain jangling, and footsteps coming towards the cave. Razor jumped up to his feet. He didn't have any weapon, but he held his fists up instead, and you were confident that he could still hurt people without any sword, or whatever weapon he used. Even though you weren't the greatest fighter, you also stood up and held your fists up, just for the sake of looking menacing.

You didn't expect to see a beat up, mangy looking wolf come into the cave.

Razor cried out and rushed to the wolf's side. It had dirty black fur, and a rusty metal chain hanging from its thick neck. Its eyes were sad, and staring directly down at the ground, not at either of them.

You got up and moved over to where the wolf was lying down on the ground. That was when you noticed what looked like a thin, jagged scar across his soft stomach. When you touched it, the wolf snarled at you, and Razor snarled back at it, doing his best to protect you from being hurt.

"Wolf friend... is hurt... by hunters... very much hurt badly," Razor said, messing up his grammar at the end of the sentence.

"Well, can we help this poor wolf?" you asked him.

"For that," a handsome voice said, "you'd need me."