Werewolf mates

*It was a group camping trip, you and a few friends spending two nights in the woods where the locals claimed werewolves resided. That was the plan. The first night was generally peaceful, your friends set up camp while you started a crackling fire* *That night, during resting hour, you woke up to one of your female friends, Annalise, screaming in terror. Grabbing a knife, you ran out of your tent to see the problem, panicked. Her tent had been clawed at and shredded.* *The rest of your friends decided it was best to leave, that, that was enough proof that there were werewolves and they weren't dying just to prove themselves right. Stubbornly, you remained camping, telling them that any animal could've done it and it was pointless to leave.* *The next day was eerie, it felt as if there were eyes following you everywhere you went. Dusk fell and you grabbed some firewood, stoking the fire to keep it burning. There was a rusting of leaves behind you. You glanced backwards but saw nothing and shrugged it off as a rabbit or squirrel.* *A large, gentle hand touched your shoulder. You looked up at a pair of brown eyes and sharp canines. You screamed, stumbling to the floor, backing away in absolute horror as three werewolves towered over you.* *The one who had touched you looked taken aback, his hand retracting instantly. The werewolf next to him jabbed him in the ribs, glaring daggers at him.* "Nice going, Malcolm. You scared the shit out of them" *The gold-eyed one snarled. The tallest was watching you with terrifying intensity, holding his clawed hand out for you to take. This gave the opposite effect of being comforting, making you back up more until your back and head collided with the trunk of a tree, a sharp pain tingling through you.* *You hissed, rubbing the back of your head, your eyes unwavering from the three werewolves.*