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It need be said here that it is nigh impossible to ‘normally’ shape change whilst clothed, let alone in armour; clothing will inevitably be shredded as it is suddenly outgrown, and to do so in full armour would be near suicidal, as most armour will, of course, not ‘shred’. Even if it did, it would soon become expensive to keep replacing. Aela warned me of this on that first indian night, and so I have since ensured that I am completely unencumbered prior to a hunt. This time, to be sure, I had had no time for any such planning. Thus, I can only attribute my sudden change to the Ring of Hircine I had acquired in a prior quest to kill a werewolf named Sinding, whom, in beast form, killed a little girl and escaped custody for the crime in Falkreath. I will not relate that tale, except to say that I chose to spare Sinding and defy the deity Hircine – even though the Father of Manbeasts told me I served him regardless, and bade me keep his ring. In any case, it allows one to amateur take beast form more than once per day, and so it somehow must allow one to shift out of one’s accoutrements at the same time. Regrettably, it does not do the reverse. Thus, all I recall is that when I slunk back into the camp that Lydia and Vilja had set up on near our recent battle – doubtless not knowing whence I had gone and when I should return – my two companions had gathered up my shed belongings, intact, and stowed them for me. It was well after dark when I returned. I had been obliged to turn to my magic once again to heal, keep from freezing, and to find my way in the night, not to mention cross the river, which I was able to do using the whirlwind sprint Shout, which moves one in the blink of an eye several man-spans. It cannot compensate for steep terrain, but otherwise it will move one over quite significant gaps or obstacles, such as traps. Or rivers. Returning to my tale, then, I do not believe that either Lydia or Vilja slumbered as I crept, shivering, into the bedroll they had set out for me in our tent, but I would be unable to avoid their questions – verbal or otherwise – beyond morning, I knew. Thus, somewhat past dawn the next day, I told them I would speak with them both. Amid the purple morning mists, we sat round the campfire for a stretched silence, aught but its occasional crackle and the rustle of the nearby river to intrude upon the uncomfortable quietude. “I am a werewolf,” I finally admitted, although I did not suppose it came as any great shock. Vilja, holding herself stiffly, began to sob, eyes downcast at her boots shuffling nervously in the brown grass. Lydia regarded me warily. “I… I do not know what more to say,” I added lamely. “But, w-why?” Vilja cried. “H-How did this happen?” “I… did it myself.” “But… why ?” the blonde repeated. “Why would you do something like this – become a… a m-monster?” “‘Monster’?” I countered sharply. “See you a monster before you now?” “Well, not now, no. But—” “I am stronger, faster… I can stay up and… run all night. “I'm sorry, Miss Dannel, but she's in the Program. "Just type it up, I'll take all the blame! The sounds played in my head too, and after a few minutes, I couldn’t hold back anymore and I started to cum so hard that my whole body was shaking like crazy. Meanwhile, their nightly sessions went on almost every day. Reaching over her back to fondle her hanging tits, I None of my shots were at someone that was no more than 8-10 feet away from me. In the military, I was shooting my weapon at people that were usually about 100-200 feet away. I stroked Allie, amateur holding her. to my hard cock and placed it against it. He took it the wrong way, muttered an apology and went indian to turn away. She looked very much like her mother; black, wavy hair, bronze skin, violet eyes, and two curved horns and a pointed tail. So he eliminated that problem.