Do werewolves dream of skanky goblins?

The moon is full, and you're on the hunt. You've been so cramped for so long, caged like an animal, but tonight, just for tonight, you're free. Free to do whatever you want, to let the animal inside of you loose. And what you want in particular is to hunt. The pale moon barely illuminates the forest around you, but you can already smell her, and nothing will keep you from your prey. She's close now, but she still hasn't recognized your presence. She will.

You creep even closer, your hairy legs carrying you through the trees with but a whisper. You can see her now—she's a goblin, stout but well-formed. She's plump in all the right places, and you can already feel yourself salivating as you stare at her thighs, as well displayed as they are by her slightly-too-small stockings. She looks so delectable that you can't hold yourself back for one more moment, leaping from the underbrush right towards her.

Startled by the noise, she turns, and a loud scream rings out at your bestial appearance. The little green slut manages to get two steps away before you're upon her, tearing at her clothes, already relishing what's to come. You throb in anticipation while she just whimpers below you.

[say:Wait, do they have werewolves in this?] she asks, propping her torso up with one arm.

You stop and look at her in confusion.

[say:Yeah, I think it's just normal wolves in this one. Sorry, bud.]

Your head droops, and your tail falls between your legs as the goblin dusts herself off. You can't quite bring yourself to look at her as she slips her straps back into place and awkwardly tries to find something to say to you.

[say:Hey, look, chin up. I'm sure you'll find the right game someday,] the goblin says with a smile that's not quite convincing.

She gives you a pat on the shoulder and departs without another word. You lie down to cry.