Chapter Text
[White Wastelands, Year 10330]
[February]
For Jimin.
The binding circle holds him in place, the magical chains cut into Jeongguk’s flesh.
For Jimin.
The bored expression on Min Yoongi’s face tells the young werewolf that no matter how furiously he is trying to break out, no matter how much he keeps struggling against the ancient runes laced with magic, any attempt is futile. Jeongguk grits his teeth in silent frustration, muscles rippling as he raises his head with great effort to look Yoongi in the eye, with as much passionate hatred as he can muster. After the long chase the hunt ended today, and the victorious Hunter’s gaze meets the werewolf’s, predator and prey stare at each other for tense seconds. There sits challenge in the curve of Yoongi’s smug smirk: can you do it, pup?
He cannot do it, cannot break free, he knows that magic is more powerful than he is. But endure it, he will – for Jimin Jeongguk will endure it; the pain and humiliation. Just like he endured everything so far; all the torture and indignity, the hunger and the biting cold. They are in the middle of the continent, most likely somewhere deep inside the White Wastelands, surrounded by mountains and snow, snow for miles and miles. Yesterday the harsh wind blew with unforgiving force and it smelled like homecoming. Jeongguk is so close, he can feel it in his guts: he will finally return home soon, home where Jimin is.
He promised.
The magic circle around him burns and weights him down with heavy silver chains but Jeongguk is not somebody to give up easily; he made a promise, after all, a promise never to be broken.
The full moon blinks through layers of thick clouds, shining brightly, chasing the shadows on Jeongguk’s face away. His joints start to break apart and dislocate, his skin melts, black fur growing rapidly as his entire bone structure transforms, and once the shifting is complete, in the middle of the binding circle instead of a young man with lean muscles now stands a gigantic black wolf with long tail and gleaming golden eyes.
The silver chains dig into the limbs of the wolf as he tries to fight against the restrain, impressive jaw snapping in anger when he realizes that the more he wiggles the heavier the shackles become. The Hunter just hums with that irritating smug smile of his still in place, then turns away from the bound wolf, obviously satisfied.
Jeongguk growls, low and warning.
Yoongi does not even look back while saying, ”Be a good pup while I’m away.” He walks slowly, there is no need for him to rush: the night is quiet and his footprints will stay visible for a long time. With his fierce eyes Jeongguk follows the Hunter’s receding form; the signature blood red hooded cloak all the werewolf hunters wear is easy to spot out in the endless white desert of snow.
When Yoongi is far away enough to not hear the desperation and pain clearly in his voice, when the northern lights bloom on the sky with thousands of colors behind the distant mountains, only then does Jeongguk twist his head up, as much as the chains let him, glassy gaze finding the Moon Deity smiling down at him gently, and howls; a message, a cry, a wish—
For Jimin.
🌕 🌖 🌗 🌘 🌑 🌒 🌓 🌔 🌕
[The Geumseong pack’s territory, Year 10317]
[October]
”Quickly! Intruders at the Eastern border! Alphas, follow me!”
The head alpha’s summoning call reverberates in the crisp air of late autumn. Jimin is no alpha, just a curious, blonde little pup yet, but his father is one of the best fighters of the pack, only ever weak against Jimin’s pleading eyes. The head alpha called for every capable fighter thus Jimin’s father is in a hurry, too distracted by jitters to say no to his son firmly enough. That is how Jimin ends up running and skipping on his short legs excitedly next to his father. All the members of the defender squad are heading towards the pack territory’s border, most of them in a rather somber mood due to the most likely dangerous nature of the situation. After all, intruders rarely mean something good, much less time peaceful.
This time, however, is special. Jimin knows it, as soon as his gaze falls upon a little boy with dark hair and even darker eyes. The intruders are that little boy bundled into thick pelts, and a severerly wounded, red-haired male alpha, presumably the pup’s father.
The wounded alpha is barely alive. Blood oozes out of a large gash on his chest, pools around him and paints the snow red as he is lying on the ground, breathing heavily, muscles twitching occassionally. His hair has the color of copper, and he smells like rain and raw flesh and almonds – a defeated scent. It is fairly obvious that this pair means no harm, no threat to the pack. Head alpha Yejin barks out orders to the other werewolves, calls for the pack’s healer, helps to carefully lift the injured stranger onto a makeshift stretcher of furs, branches and boughs. However, when she reaches out for the little boy to grab, she almost gets bitten, has to yank her hand away to avoid the snapping little teeth.
”Such a wild pup, huh,” Yejin grins at the boy, crouching down to get on eye level with him. ”What’s your name?”
The pup bares his teeth and growls menacingly while slowly backing away, never breaking eye contact with the head alpha. His entire form is wrapped up in pelts but the tension in his muscles underneath all the layers of clothing is still evident – he looks ready to either run away or attack at any moment. Those dark eyes hold nothing but mistrust and fear in them, there is blood smeared on his puffy cheeks, and on his jaw and temple he sports huge, blooming bruises. He has a gentle scent of dewy grass and clove but panic sours it considerably.
”I mean no harm, pup,” Yejin tries again, benevolent voice bordering on impatience, reaching for the boy. This time she is not quick enough to retreat; the mysterious pup’s mouth closes around Yejin’s two fingers, making the head alpha curse loudly while slapping the pup’s face with her free hand. The boy falls into a pile of snow, still snarling and trembling violently, and Yejin licks her hurt fingers with a murderous glint in her eyes.
”Let the pup be,” she announces to the others with barely concealed anger in her usually calm and collected voice. ”If he wants to keep throwing tantrums all alone here, then so be it. Time to head back, with or without him. I gave him the choice to come, but seems like he is too wild to fit in.”
Without wasting a second, she starts marching back towards the clearing where all the pack members’ yurt tents are. Jimin watches the scene unfold while hiding behind his father’s legs, staring at the stranger with undisguised interest in his eyes. Normally a head alpha’s mere presence should be enough to make other wolves bow and retreat in defeat, but here he is, a small pup, even shorter than Jimin is, having the nerve to not only stand up against but even bite Yejin.
”Jimin, let’s go!” His father pets his hair, legs already moving. ”Leave that pup alone, we can do nothing to help him if he doesn’t want to be helped.”
Jimin nods and lets his father lead him away by his hand, but with his head turned back, his eyes remain fixed on the quietly growling boy in the snow.
It is a heart-breakingly lonely sight.
Jimin knows how these things are: if the head alpha declares someone as unfit for the pack’s standards, that someone has to live outside the pack’s territory; alone and helpless. Maybe this pup knows how to bite, but at such young age certainly does not know how to hunt, how to take care of himself without an adult – so far up in the mountains it is hard to find prey slow enough to catch alone, it is difficult to stay warm and protected without a comfortable den. There is no doubt that, sooner or later, the pup is going to die.
They are halfway to the tents when Jimin slips his tiny hand out of his father’s huge, warm grasp and breaks into a run, back to the lone pup. The boy is still there, in the exact same place where they left him, looking lost and distressed, whimpering softly. His shoulders are hunched up and tense, his gaze flickering nervously left and right then landing on Jimin immediately once sensing his presence.
”Hi,” Jimin greets him with a small smile, voice quiet and friendly. The boy snarls and moves a bit away as Jimin approaches him with slow, cautious steps. ”Mind if I sit down here?”
The boy blinks, confused, and Jimin takes advantage of his astonishment, not waiting for the answer he sits down in the snow approximately two meters away from the stranger.
”My name’s Jimin,” he begins, staring at the other pup curiously. ”Jimin from the Park clan. I’m part of the Geumseong pack, this is the border of our territory. What’s your name?”
The pup just stares back, distrust and hesitance clear in his expression.
”C'mon, it’s okay. See?” Jimin smiles, still speaking slowly, quietly and calmy, showing his empty palms. He saw the healer of their pack treat those who are upset or hurt the same way. ”There’s nothing to fear. I have no knife with me, and I won’t hurt you.”
He shifts his weight while sitting, and the boy follows every movement of his closely, now appearing a little bit less unnerved.
”So? Do you have a name? A pack? That wounded alpha who was with you is your dad?”
The pup huffs, irritated, and starts scratching his arm furiously underneath the pelts he is bundled into.
”Do you understand what I’m saying?” Jimin asks as it occurs to him that maybe the pup speaks a language different than his.
The boy seizes him up with his intense eyes, frowning, and after long moments of stretching silence he apparently decides that Jimin is no threat. He gives a small nod.
Like the sun rising in the morning above mountains, Jimin’s entire face lights up, glowing with joy. ”So you do understand me!” At his enthusiastic voice the other pup winces and curls into himself a bit more, but his wide eyes never leave Jimin’s face, and now instead of fear there is some kind of awe twinkling in them. He gives another timid nod, a confirmation.
”Can you speak? Can you tell me your name?” Jimin cannot stop grinning, crawling a tiny bit closer to the other in excitement.
The pup’s expression immediately closes off, eyes becoming colder. He emits an alerting growl while moving backwards, ready to defend himself.
”It’s okay, it’s okay,” Jimin hurries to placate him, retreating. ”I’m sorry if I scared you… I have no bad intentions, I swear!”
Jimin picks off his father’s scent in the distance but the source of it seems to not come closer. Looking behind himself, Jimin meets his father’s eyes – the man is standing in the shadow of a wide pine tree, stance uptight but not anxious, the expression on his face is inquisitive.
”How old are you?” Jimin turns back to the boy, tilting his head a bit to the side. Hopefully, if he can ignore his father’s presence not so far away, then the other pup eventually will, too. ”I’m eight winters old!” On his chubby fingers he shows the number proudly, chest slighly puffed out. ”My birthday was not long ago! And I lost one of my baby teeth last week, so my real fangs will soon grow out!” When there is no response, he adds, ”You look my age. Are you?”
The boy shakes his head with a grimace. Jimin beams at him, puffy cheeks bunching up, eyes turning into crescents. ”You’re so cute! Are you perhaps older than me, then?”
The boy’s eyes are wide and his mouth is slightly open as he stares at Jimin, color slowly blooming on his pale cheeks. He blinks, then shakes his head.
”So you’re younger,” Jimin concludes, suddenly feeling mature and responsible compared to the other pup.
The boy nods once again, looking away for the first time, scratching his arm with swiftly reddening ears. Jimin dares to move a little closer, and this time the boy does not move away.
”Are you hurt?”
The boy’s jaw tightens and his eyebrows knit together, dark and dirty hair hanging flatly on his forehead. After a few moments of inner debate, he shakes his head.
”Do you want to come with me? To my tent?” While Jimin is talking, the distance between them decreases. Jimin keeps moving closer and closer slowly but steadily, and the other pup is sitting still, fierce gaze glued to Jimin’s face. ”My dad and mom are super nice! And we have warm water and comfy sleeping nests!”
All werewolf packs have some of their own varying customs, and the Geumseong pack’s are based on the motto ’only the strong survive’. Head alpha Yejin left this small, weak pup out here, to die. Jimin is not having any of that, not today.
”I promise, I don’t wanna hurt you,” he whispers, inching closer to the other pup, reaching for his face with his open palm. ”See? Nothing to fear.”
The boy’s eyes dart between Jimin’s face and approaching hand, his lips twitch and he makes a whining sound low in his throat, signing his discomfort.
”Come with me,” Jimin says, tone gentle and eyes pleading, as his fingers come so close to the boy’s cheeks, that he can feel the heat radiating off of his skin. Teeth snap around Jimin’s wrist, movements so quick that Jimin has no time to pull away, the bite is not strong enough to break skin, it is just a warning. A test.
Jimin yelps and hisses in pain but he fights his instincts and forces himself to not shove the pup away. He remains immobile instead, leaving his wrist in the hold of the pup’s jaw, trying to calm his breathing, trying not to cry.
”See,” he mumbles, searching for the other’s eyes, slightly shaky voice earnest, brown eyes full of warmth, ”There’s nothing to fear. I’m not gonna hurt you.”
He lifts his free arm and cups the trembling boy’s face; when they touch, the boy starts growling, his teeth sinking a bit deeper into Jimin’s skin. It is going to leave a long-lasting mark, for sure. Behind himself, he can feel the spike of anxiety in his father’s scent, but fortunately the alpha decides to not intervene.
With his thumb Jimin draws circles on the boy’s milky skin, avoiding to touch his bruises. The caress is nothing but gentle and sweet, and after a few moments pregnant with tension, the pup releases Jimin’s wrist and darts his small, warm tongue out to apologetically lick at the caused damage. Werewolves heal fast, and licking at a wound always boosts the healing effect. Jimin lets him apologize like this, while his other hand wanders from the boy’s face to his hair, petting the rough locks tenderly.
”See? It’s okay—”
”Jeongguk,” the pup speaks out of the blue, voice hoarse and small. He is avoiding Jimin’s questioning glance. ”I’m Jeongguk, from the Jeon clan.”
A smile stretches across Jimin’s lips, so wide it hurts. ”Jeongguk! So that’s your name!” He giggles, a bubble of euphoria swelling in his chest. ”I’m so glad you can talk! Say, wanna come home with me, Jeonggukie?”
Jeongguk seems to be astonished by both the nickname and the question.
”Could I, really…?” His voice is shy and unsure, and his cheeks and ears blush as he keeps scratching his arm.
”Of course!” Jimin assures him, grinning with sparkling eyes. ”You can sleep in my sleeping nest, if you wanna!”
Jeongguk tenses, his scratching movements become faster. His face is as red as rosehips. ”I—” He stops, sniffles and glares at the ground, agitated and flustered. ”I’m sorry for biting you…” Judging by the way he is muttering this apology, trailing off and looking away, Jimin knows that there is more to come, so he waits patiently.
”A-and… I, um,” he halts again, glancing around frantically, never meeting Jimin’s eyes. ”I have fleas,” he admits finally, the end of the sentence barely audible.
At first Jimin is too surprised to speak but after coming to his senses a moment later, he starts laughing, and pulls the baffled Jeongguk into his arms. ”It’s okay, Jeonggukie. I don’t really care.”
Jeongguk attempts to push him away, his scent of fresh grass and clove thickening with embarrassment, but Jimin holds him tight and firm, so Jeongguk eventually gives up and lets himself be embraced. As they hug, Jeongguk’s muscles loosen one by one, and Jimin does not stop caressing and patting his back gently, carefully, until Jeongguk is practically melting against him.
”Come then, let’s go home.” His fingers find and wrap around Jeongguk’s as they both stand up, then he starts to lead the boy towards his father, towards the yurt tents.
Jeongguk looks up at him, dark eyes round and shimmering, and a small smile tugs at the corners of his lips. The way he lightly squeezes Jimin’s hand tells that he is ready to follow Jimin anywhere. ”Home.”
☽ ☼ ☾
”You stayed behind to tame the pup?” Comes head alpha Yejin’s slightly mocking voice as soon as they arrive to the clearing. The leeward clearing serves as the center of the territory and gathering place of the pack, with a large bonfire in the middle, yurts forming a rather loose semi-circle around it. Jiwoon, Jimin’s father rushes to confirm the statement obediently, ”Yes, head alpha. The pup’s name is Jeon Jeongguk. I apologize for going against your orders, but my son, Jimin, took a liking to him, and would ask for your permission to take him in.”
”I see,” Yejin hums, staring at Jeongguk with a contemplating expression. The boy frowns and pulls closer to Jimin, the grip of his small hand tightening around Jimin’s.
”It is decided, then,” the head alpha speaks finally. ”Park Jiwoon, from now on the stranger pup is your responsibility. Make sure to feed him well and keep him warm. However,” Yejin pauses, tone lowering, gaze darkening, ”If I catch him misbehaving one too many times, he’ll be exciled from my pack forever, without question.” Her eyes land on Jeongguk again, strict glare holding the boy in place. ”Do you understand, pup?”
Jeongguk nods, tiny fingers gripping Jimin’s so firmly, his knuckles whiten.
”Very well. Now, Jiwoon, come with me. We have other matters to discuss,” the head alpha draws the conversation to a close, turning away to head towards the healer’s yurt. Jimin’s father follows her immediately, leaving the two pups behind.
”Come, Jeonggukie, let’s go,” Jimin nudges the other boy, feeling a bit uncomfortable under all the scrutinizing eyes of the pack members. The Geumseong pack has been a rather peaceful one for over a decade now, not getting into territorial conflicts, moving frequently while always keeping to their own. Plus, wolves in general do not really like intruders, and a person who dares to stand up against a head alpha is always considered dangerous. The pack members, while chopping wood or gutting rabbits in front of their yurts, stare at Jeongguk with suspiciousness and mild distaste.
Jimin leads Jeongguk to the Park family’s yurt, standing at the base of a maple tree. It is – as all yurts are – round, with its entrance facing east, and it is made of patches of animal skins sewn together tightly. The location of it alone tells some things about its owners – the head alpha’s yurt is always in the middle of the circle or semi-circle, and the Parks’ yurt is right next to it, indicating high status within the pack.
”In there,” Jimin smiles at Jeongguk encouragingly while lifting the piece of hanging skin that covers the entrance. ”This is our yurt. Now yours, too! You heard head alpha Yejin, right? You can stay with us!”
Jeongguk shyly smiles back and lets Jimin pull him into the tent.
It is almost shocking how warm the temperature inside is. In the middle of the round interior Jeongguk’s eyes immediately fall upon a tidy campfire – a tight ring made of rocks, little heap of ember and ash in it. Above the fire there is a three-legged iron cooking stand, with a small iron pot steaming on top of it. Other than the flames, the only sources of light are oil lanterns placed onto wooden storage trunks here and there, and a small round hole in the tent’s roof right above the fireplace, to let the smoke escape. The ground is covered with soft rugs, the sleeping area is constituted by two piles of pelts and woolen blankets – one huge pile for the parents, and next to it a smaller one for Jimin. A large wooden basin for bathing is separated from the rest of the interior by a wicker folding screen.
”Are you hungry?” Jimin asks while rummaging through a trunk, in search for a spare bowl and spoon. ”This morning Dad made rabbit stew with mushrooms, do you like it? It’s still warm.”
Jeongguk timidly nods, and his cheeks redden when his stomach starts rumbling. Jimin giggles and opens his mouth to tease, but he is interrupted by an adult omega werewolf stepping into the tent, bringing the scent of elderflower and autumn leaves with him. The newcomer is short, only a head taller than Jimin, has dark brown hair and delicate features.
”Oh, hi, Mom!” Jimin greets his approaching mother with a smile, tiny hand brushing against Jeongguk’s in an attempt to calm the boy down. The spike of fear and alertness immediately subdues in Jeongguk’s scent and curiosity takes its place.
Jimin’s mother, Yonghwa, looks just as intrigued; he sniffs the air and his warm brown eyes take in Jeongguk’s bruised skin and blood-stained pelts with a gentle but concerned expression.
”Your father told me everything,” Yonghwa turns to Jimin. ”First we have to take care of his injuries and cure the fleas, eating comes second. Go and bring water from the creek!”
”Wait here, Jeonggukie!” While grabbing a wooden bucket Jimin instructs the other pup, who seems to be a bit frightened by the possibility of being left alone with an adult. ”I’m gonna be right back, ’kay? Don’t worry, Mom would never hurt you.”
”That’s right,” Yonghwa smiles, the crescent-like curl of his eyes the same as his son’s. ”I just want to help you get rid of the fleas, I promise. There’s nothing to fear. Do you want me to get rid of them?”
”Yes,” after only a second of hesitation Jeongguk agrees quietly. From the corner of his eye he can see Jimin leaving the yurt and the sight makes his stomach tighten.
”Good.” Yonghwa nods, satisfied with the pup’s willingness to cooperate. He steps to a trunk and picks some glass vials out of it – each one has a different color and various little handwritten labels attached. ”Then first of all, we have to burn all those rags of yours.”
Jeongguk’s already round eyes widen, a stubborn pout forming on his lips.
”M-my furs?” He stares at the omega, scandalized, fingers squeezing his clothes tighter around himself.
”Don’t worry, pup,” Yonghwa grins at him. ”I’ll give you new furs, much warmer and cleaner ones. Jiminie’s little brother—” He has to stop and close his eyes for a moment, gathering strength. ”Jimin’s brother passed away last winter and I still have his furs around. I believe they will fit you perfectly!” Ending the sentence on a slightly forced cheerful note, Yonghwa turns back to his vials, selecting the potions, muttering under his breath softly, ”I’m about to run out of lavander extract, this is not good—”
Jeongguk just stands in the middle of the yurt awkwardly, scratching his arm, not really knowing what to do. He wishes for Jimin to come back soon.
”Take off your clothes,” Yonghwa tells him without even looking up from the colorful little vials. ”Your undergarments, too. Put them all into that bucket there, by the basin.”
Jeongguk, albeit reluctantly, but obeys. With trembling fingers he peels off his clothes, layer by layer, till he is naked completely, then folds the furs into the bucket neatly. Yonghwa does not spare a glance at him, too immersed in the act of choosing the potions he needs.
”You done?”
”Mhm.” His ears are flaming and Jeongguk tries to hide himself with his hands as much as possible. Nudity among werewolves is not a big deal; they often have to shift and dress in front of each other, but still – the fact that he is bare and vulnerable in front of an adult whom he knows for only a few minutes makes Jeongguk’s skin crawl.
Yonghwa finally finishes organizing the vials and looks at the pup. His brows knit together and his jaw tightens when he notices the leather collar on Jeongguk’s neck.
”What is that? On your neck,” he questions, voice shaking with surpressed emotions. He does not want to scare the pup – who can already sense the building anger in his scent – but he cannot help feeling furious.
Jeongguk’s one hand immediately flies to the collar, tugging at it nervously. ”Um— It’s my necklace,” he replies with growing unease. ”That’s what it’s called. I’m never allowed to take it off, they told me I was born with it. They told me it’s part of me.”
”Necklace?” Yonghwa hisses, immediately regretting it because the harsh sound makes Jeongguk wince.
Of course the omega knows that it is not a necklace, of course he knows what it is. It is the symbol of suffering, of slavery. It is said that werewolves were created from the soul of a wild wolf, a soul of a fierce human, a drop of moonshine and a sprinkle of magic. In this world there do exist ordinary wolves, too, though; simple animals with no human soul in their bodies, no magic. These simple wolves have been broken in for thousands of hundreds of years by humans, those smooth-skinned monsters from the southern continent. The humans call the broken-spirited, tame wolves dogs, and to show the world their power over those dogs, they put collar on their necks like shackle.
Yonghwa sighs, forcing himself to calm down.
”Who put it on you? Who said you can’t ever take it off?”
Jeongguk’s anxious gaze flickers towards the entrance of the yurt.
”Was it the alpha who was with you when we found you at the border?”
With shoulders hunched, Jeongguk scratches his arm violently, nails leaving red trails on his skin. He cautiously glances at the direction of the entrance again, then looks at Yonghwa before finally giving a jerky nod.
”He’s my master,” he whispers, eyes wide with fear. ”I’m not allowed to say his name, only call him ’Master’. I don’t think I even know his real name.” A shiver runs down his spine. ”He uses many.”
Yonghwa exhales shakily, closing his eyes to collect himself. ”I see. Thank you for telling me, Jeonggukie.” To distract himself and clear the air a bit, he goes to another storage trunk and picks a few pieces of pup-sized clothing out of it, showing them to Jeongguk.
”Look. From now on these tunics and furs are yours to wear, okay? They are pretty, right?” The question is lighthearted, but before Jeongguk could respond, the skin hanging in front of the yurt’s entrance flips and Jimin rushes inside with two buckets in his hands, filled to the brim.
”Sorry I took so long! Minho’s mom lent me one of their spare buckets, that’s why,” he explains, huffing and breathing heavily. At the sight of Jimin Jeongguk flushes pink and curls into himself, hands hovering over his own body, flustered, not even knowing which part he should cover up first. However, Jimin is too busy to even look at his direction – with great effort he fills a huge iron cauldron, then with the help of Yonghwa he puts the cauldron on top of the three-legged cooking stand.
”Jiminie,” Yonghwa calls for his son as soon as they put the water above the fire. ”Grab that bucket by the basin, the one with Jeongguk’s old clothes in it. Bring the bucket to the bonfire and burn all the furs, but avoid touching them.”
Once they are left alone again, Yonghwa crouches and uses his softest, kindest voice when he speaks up. ”Listen to me. Take your necklace off, Jeongguk. If you want to take a bath and get rid of all the fleas, you have to take off your necklace, too.” Jeongguk’s scent gets laced with anxiety and distress immediately, so the omega quickly tries to reassure him. ”Don’t worry, it’ll have no consequences. You won’t get punished for taking it off, I swear! You are allowed to take it off, and if anybody asks who said this to you, you can point at me, okay? Just blame it on me, okay?”
Jeongguk tugs at the leather collar, swallowing nervously. In the meantime, Jimin comes back with the empty bucket, eyes cast down to not make Jeongguk uncomfortable.
At hearing the voice of Yejin coming from outside of the yurt, all the three of them flinch in surprise.
”Yonghwa! Come with me. The council needs every member to decide what to do with the intruder alpha.”
The omega stands up with a deep sigh. ”Yes, head alpha!” He turns to Jimin, pointing a finger at the previously chosen colorful vials on top of a trunk. ”Once the bathwater is warm enough, use those, Jiminie. Just a couple of drops from each, alright? Take good care of Jeongguk while I’m away!”
The two pups are left alone once again, and awkward silence blankets them for a few seconds – then the water in the cauldron starts to bubble, and it makes Jimin spur into action. He takes a bundle of cloth, wraps it around the cauldron’s handles, and with gritted teeth he carries the heavy iron to the wooden basin. After pouring the steaming water into the basin, he grabs the vials and drips a few drops of each colorful liquid into it, as well.
”Your bath is ready, Jeonggukie,” he announces proudly, stirring the water with his hand. ”It’s not boiling hot anymore, just perfect!”
Jeongguk strolls closer, sniffing at the green-colored water tentatively.
”It's just warm water, with some herbs and stuff in it,” Jimin explains, raising one of the vials. ”See? Walnut leaf and lavander extract, salt and rosemary extract, a drop of apple vinegar, pennyroyal and hamamelis extract. I know that the mix of all these scents is a bit distracting, but don't worry: these herbs are all good against fleas, that’s why Mom told me to put them in your bath.”
Jeongguk nods, dizzy. The mix of scents is indeed heady, making it difficult to breathe properly. Or maybe it is because of Jimin’s presence, so close— Jeongguk glares into the greenish liquid, flustered. At least right now Jimin and him are standing on two sides of the basin, and he is grateful that this way most of his body is hidden.
”C’mon, climb into it,” Jimin encourages him, playfully flicking a bit of water into his face while giggling. ”I’m turning away and won’t look, ’kay?
As soon as Jimin indeed turns away, Jeongguk takes a big breath and does as he was told. Sinking into the warm water is a delightful feeling. It hugs Jeongguk’s from all sides, seeping into his skin and heating him up from the inside, too. He curls up and hugs his knees to his chest, enduring with the stillness of a rock when Jimin starts to gently scrub his back with a bath brush. Then from a metal jug Jimin carefully pours water onto his head, grabs a bar of soap – made of pressed fat and herbs – and twirls it between his palms till rainbow-colored bubbles cover the entirety of his small hands. He rubs the foaming soap against Jeongguk’s scalp, massaging lightly, his fingers carefully evening the knots out in the boy’s messy hair. It is a soothing feeling – the massage, the warmth, the feeling of finally being clean. Jeongguk closes his eyes as Jimin runs his fingertips through his tangled strands, lets himself being taken care of. He leans into Jimin’s touch, muscles going lax in bliss, and he is so lost in the sensation of being warm and safe and cared for, that he is barely aware of the way Jimin’s fingers slowly trail down from his hair to his nape, eventually resting on the leather collar.
”Say… what is this, Jeonggukie?” Jimin’s quiet, serious yet kind voice comes from so close, Jeongguk shudders. ”Why do you wear a dog collar?”
Jeongguk immediately flinches away, with his swift movements accidentally splashing water out of the basin.
All werewolf packs have some of their own varying customs, traditions – but generally, slavery is something that is frowned upon on this entire continent. However, there are still a very few packs where it is accepted, practiced. In those kind of packs, leather collars symbolize the lack of freedom and indicate the status of a slave. Jimin knows this, because three winters ago, while moving the entire pack from one side of a mountain to another, they passed by a destroyed, burned village where all the dead, half-burnt werewolves had collars around their necks. That was when Mom explained to him that probably the following had happened: the plague had broken out among the malnurished, immunodeficient slaves, and the ’masters’ had left the village in fear of the disease, leaving their slaves – the expendables – behind.
”You don’t wanna tell me?”
Jeongguk shrugs, pressing his lips together tightly.
”Who put it on you?”
Jeongguk shrugs again, staring into the water. ”I dunno,” he mumbles.
”Don’t you want to take it off?” Jimin asks while reaching out, fingers dancing on the leather. Jeongguk holds his breath, eyes wide, heart pounding against his ribcage. This is the first time someone other than himself or his master touches his collar. This is the first time someone else touches it and Jeongguk is not getting dragged around by it, not getting shaken by it.
Jimin’s mother said it was okay, right? That he is allowed to say yes—
”I want to,” Jeongguk admits, barely audible. He still does not dare to look Jimin in the eye.
Jimin’s fingers massage his nape right above the edge of the collar, then settle on his shoulders, kneading the tense muscles there. ”Can I—?”
Jeongguk gives him a jerky nod, too scared to formulate his wish loudly. Jimin’s hand finds the leather once again, searching for the buckle. The other boy is motionless during his ministrations, muscles taut and posture rigid, Jimin is not sure if he is even breathing. With a metallic clink the buckle gets undone and the collar slips away, away—
Jeongguk inhales sharply, as if coming up from underwater after a long, long time. The skin on his neck is rubbed pink and scarred. With a disgusted grimace Jimin tosses the collar into the campfire, thus soon dense puffs of smoke rise. The suffocating smell of burning leather wafts around them and Jimin coughs, but in his young life, Jeongguk had never found breathing so easy. The collar was not particularly heavy but it still feels like he carried an entire chain of mountains around his neck for all these years, and now he is freed; feels light like a cloud, almost floating. He stares into the blaze, watches as the leather comes apart, the metal buckle melts, and his fists are shaking with exhilaration, his eyes glow like the embers the collar has disintegrated to. Then he looks at Jimin with something raw in his gaze, and the weight of that look is so intense, Jimin has to turn away first.
Claiming it has a strong healing effect, he smears some kind of herbal ointment all over Jeongguk’s skin – not just his neck, but onto his facial bruises, the wound on his chin, too. Then he grabs a dry piece of cloth and starts toweling Jeongguk’s hair tenderly. Water is dripping from the boy’s locks, cascading down his cheeks – and if there were a few salty drops of tears mixing into the wetness, no one has to know.
”Now that you’re all washed up, we can eat!”
As Jeongguk busies himself with wrapping the towel around his body, then with pulling on the new clothes Yonghwa gave to him, Jimin scoops a considerable amount of rabbit stew into a carved wooden bowl.
They sit down onto the rugs, close enough that Jeongguk could touch Jimin if he reached out. The crackling fire paints a play of red and orange and soft shadows onto Jimin’s chubby cheeks, his blonde hair shining like gold.
”Here you go,” he gives the stew-filled bowl to Jeongguk, whose stomach immediately starts growling at the proximity of such amount of delicious food. Yet, Jeongguk does not spare a glance to the bowl – he is staring at Jimin wordlessly, eyes glistening in the flickering light of the fire.
”C’mon, eat it before it goes cold,” Jimin urges him, eyes turning into half-moons, and Jeongguk’s heart thuds.
The new clothes fit him nicely, they are indeed clean and comfortable. They smell good, too – like Jimin; like warmth and gentleness and home. Stunned, he keeps staring at Jimin, even when his eyes start to sting, even when his stomach squeezes, even when his nose gets stuffy.
”Oh! Don’t cry!” Comes Jimin’s panicked voice, but Jeongguk cannot help it, cannot stop the tears once they have started falling. He has to put the bowl down because his hands shake too much, he has to hide his face because he does not want Jimin to see how messy he can be when there is snot smudged on his chin and streams of tears are running down his cheeks. Jimin hugs him while he is sobbing, chest heaving and tears flowing, unstoppable; his subtle scent of honey and chamomile clogs Jeongguk’s senses.
”There, there. Don't cry, Jeonggukie.”
Jimin holds him close and pets his freshly washed, semi-dried hair patiently, murmuring cheerful, sweet nothings to him until he finally calms down.
That night they lay on the smaller pile of pelts together, facing each other with darkness surrounding them, and Jimin whispers while pinching Jeongguk’s cheeks playfully, ”You’re such a crybaby, aren’t you?” He pets the boy’s hair, touch light like feather. ”When you cry and when you’re sad, I’ll be there for you, ’kay, Jeonggukie?”
Jeongguk whispers back, with the hope for a new, better life swelling in his chest like a soap bubble, ”You promise?”
”Sure! Pinky promise! But you gotta be there for me, too.”
”I will!” Jeongguk swears, with unwavering resolve in his young voice, and the two pups link their pinky fingers together.
”Thank you… J-Jiminie,” Jeongguk adds a bit later shyly. This is the first time he calls Jimin by his name, but Jimin cannot hear it, as he is already fast asleep. So without a reply, Jeongguk falls into silence once again, listening to the other boy’s steady breaths, not letting go of his pinky finger yet.
On that night they made their first promise to each other, whispered in the dark, later followed by countless others – but this one was amongst the most important, for both of them.
☽ ☼ ☾
On the next day in the morning the alpha whom Jeongguk called his ’master’ passes away. It happens quietly and quickly – his wounds were infected and lethal, not even the healing potions nor magic worked on them. His voice was never once heard, his name and purpose the pack never learned, and thus he gets buried in an unmarked, anonymous grave at the eastern border of the pack’s territory. Jimin cannot really tell if Jeongguk is relieved or not, happy or not, because the boy does not celebrate out loud, but from that day on Jeongguk’s habit of glancing around anxiously before talking becomes less and less common, less and less recurrent.
In the afternoon Jeongguk gets transferred to the communal yurt of elders and little pups without family. Jimin’s father is responsible for him in terms of providing him food and clothes, but adoption for families is not one of the pack’s traditions, so Jeongguk has to share the same sleeping quarters all orphaned pups do. This, though, does not stop him from sneaking out some minutes after curfew every other day, heading towards the Parks’ yurt without making a sound, hiding in the shadows of trees. The rising sun finds him in Jimin’s sleeping nest more often than not, curled up around Jimin’s body tightly, limbs entangled, basically sleeping on top of him, as if he was scared that someone might will come at night and steal Jimin from him.
[November]
”He’s starin’ at ya again,” Taehyung, one of the orphaned pups and Jimin’s best friend murmurs with an exaggerated eye-roll. To further express his annoyance, he grabs a piece of dirty undergarment from the basket, drops it onto the wet rocks roughly and gives the linen a slap with unnecessary force. They are on cleaning duty, all fourteen pups of the pack crouching by the bank of the creek, cleaning piles of clothes with tallow soaps and brushes and washing paddles. ”Jeon. In the past three minutes he’s been starin’ at ya basically without blinkin’. ’S creepin’ me out.”
With furrowed brows Jimin turns around to see if the claim is true or not, but as soon as his eyes land on Jeongguk, the boy immediately looks down onto the task at hand and starts rubbing a tallow soap against some tunic vigorously.
”He’s not!” Jimin argues with laughter in his voice, poking Taehyung’s arm with the blunt tip of his washing paddle. ”You’re imagining things!”
Taehyung snorts, shaking his head. ”’Am not imaginin’ anythin’. Look at him again, his whole face’s blushin’. He was caught and now he’s shy!”
Jimin huffs and shakes his head in disbelief, but still, his curiosity makes him turn around again, just in time to witness as Jeongguk quickly casts his eyes downwards, ears as red as sunsets.
”He’s cute,” Jimin smiles, fond. Taehyung rolls his eyes once again, punching the cloth on the rock loudly.
”He’s creepy. He’s been with us for two weeks now and yet barely’ve said a word. All he does is starin’ at ya from a distance and then get shy when ya stare back. He’s stupid and annoyin’,” Taehyung groans, emphasizing his low opinion on Jeongguk with an exceptionally strong slap against the linen.
”Tae! Stop being mean! Calling him names is not nice,” Jimin scolds his friend and gets yet another eye-roll in response.
”When we’re in the communal yurt he’s not nice to me, either,” Taehyung grumbles defensively. ”Or anyone, for that matter. He just keeps shruggin’ whenever I ask him about anythin’. I asked him, ’Was that man ya arrived with ya’r father?’ and he shrugged and walked away! He’s rude!”
”No, he’s very nice,” Jimin hisses, little hands balling into fists. Taehyung looks taken aback by the sudden anger in his voice and scent, he even drops the paddle onto the rock in surprise. ”He’s just shy and doesn’t like to talk about that man! He’s younger than us, too, by two winters! You should leave him alone with your nosy questions instead of calling him stupid and rude! You are the rude one, Tae!”
For a few minutes they are both punching the clothes furiously, sulking. It is Taehyung who breaks the silence.
”He has fleas. Before he came we’d had no fleas and now he’s spreading them all around the pack.”
”It’s not his fault!” Jimin defends vehemently. ”We’re trying to get rid of his fleas, he takes the herbal bath and washes all his clothes every day! And fleas and their larvaes gonna die soon, anyway, when the weather gets colder.”
”Good,” Taehyung grumbles while scratching his ankle, then slaps the paddle against stone with such force it almost breaks. ”Ya know, the elders made a secret bet on what he’s gonna present as. Four of them say he’s gonna be an omega, ’cause he’s so shy or I dunno.” He takes a look at the other bank of the creek where Jeongguk is brushing a cloth dutifully. ”One of them bets that he’s gonna present as alpha. ’Cause he stood up against head alpha Yejin.”
Jimin hums, pondering. The pack currently has 43 members in total: 14 pups whom have not presented yet, 6 alphas, 19 betas and 4 omegas. Out of the nineteen betas one of them is unmated, living in the communal yurt together with the elders and orphans. The time of the mating season is very close, it is at late November-early December. The sun is shining but the water is ice cold. They are all crouching in snow and the creek is going to freeze soon, as winter approaches. Each year as November reaches its middle, the pack gets on the road towards south, where the winter winds are not as harsh as in the mountains, and the forests are rich in large herbivorous and berries. This year is going to be the same; they will leave this place next week – that is what all the fuss of cloth-cleaning is about. During their travel it is most likely that they will meet other packs or lone wolves, and thus the remaining unmated young werewolf of the Geumseong pack hopefully finally will be able to mate and settle. Jimin wonders briefly, if he had to choose from his fellow pups in the pack, whom he would like to mate with the most once they reach adulthood. Alphas and omegas are considered to be the most compatible with each other, balancing out each other’s virtues, or so the elders say.
”If Jeonggukie will present as alpha, then I hope to present as omega,” Jimin mumbles with darkening cheeks, ignoring Taehyung’s lifted eyebrow and grimace.
”Why?”
”Just because.”
”But no one wants to be an omega,” Taehyung blinks, smearing soap all over fabric. ”Omegas are omegas, the lowest rank, ’cause their physical abilities are the shittiest. Why would ya wanna be a wolf with duller senses than others, huh?”
”Male omegas can carry pups in their bellies,” Jimin replies on a tone of finality – a clear implication that he wants to finish this conversation. He steals a glance towards Jeongguk and catches him already staring – they both turn away quickly, ears pink.
”Well, that’s true,” Taehyung admits, still sounding confused. It is not like for him it matters what he will present as, anyway – Taehyung was born with teeth in his mouth and a mole on the tip of his nose; common features of a ’blessed pup’, someone with enhanced magical abilities who usually gets trained to be the pack’s next shaman. No matter what rank they have as a wolf, as a pack member shamans are among the most respected.
☽ ☼ ☾
”Say, Jeonggukie,” Jimin starts, a little unsure whether to disturb the other or not. After all, Jeongguk does many things in an intense way – concentrating on writing is one of them, and he does not like losing focus.
The two pups are leaning over a blank parchment, the small piece of charcoal in Jeongguk’s hand slowly drawing wobbly lines of the letter ’D’ onto it. A month ago Jeongguk came to the pack not knowing how to read nor write, and Jimin offered to teach him. Since then they spend every late afternoon together, practicing.
”What’s the first word coming to your mind when you see the letter ’d’?”
”Danger,” the boy replies in a heartbeat, soft and airy. Jimin’s gaze flickers to his scarred neck then to his rough little hands, skin smudged black with charcoal.
”For me it’s dream,” Jimin says with a faraway look, the light of the oil lanterns making his eyes glimmer. ”I wanna go someday and see the sea, that’s my dream, y’know.”
”The sea?” It is endearing, the way that as soon as Jeongguk senses the beginning of a conversation, he immediately drops the charcoal and turns his entire body towards Jimin to give him his undivided attention. ”What’s that?”
Jimin grins, excitement clear in his voice, ”Where our continent ends, there’s a huge body of water, so big that you can’t even see the end of it! It’s like a lake but bigger! It’s endless, and you can’t drink from it because it’s salty. So cool, isn’t it? I heard of it from the merchants but I really wanna see it with my own eyes one day.”
”Sounds pretty cool,” Jeongguk agrees with a shy smile. ”Is it far from here?”
”Yeah,” Jimin visibly deflates, causing Jeongguk to frown in concern. ”It’s very, very far from here. It’s down there, far south, where our continent ends and the southern continent begins. You have to go and go and go for months or even years to reach it,” he sighs, resigned. ”The merchants who travel between the southern and northern continents said that usually they spend months on ships to cross the sea and then several more months on horseback to get to the lands up north where werewolf packs live scattered.”
Jeongguk leans closer, eyes wide and fascinated. ”Ships? What’s that?”
In times like these does Jimin realize how big the world around them is and how little they both know about it. He explains to Jeongguk what a ship is and how it works, but this explanation does nothing to quench Jeongguk’s thirst for knowledge, only makes him come up with at least five new questions.
”You said there is another continent?”
”Yup,” Jimin answers while putting the parchment with the letter ’D’ on it away, writing lesson long forgotten.
”And what’s down there? Wolves live there, too?”
”Nah,” he shakes his head while pouring water into the cauldron, in preparation of drawing a bath for Jeongguk. ”I don’t think so. On the southern continent there’s no magic, and Dad said that creatures with connection to magic can’t live for long without it. So all werewolves live in the northern region of the northern continent, that’s what Dad said. The middle of our continent is called White Wastelands, and it’s the territory of the bloodsuckers and swamp fairies.” Jimin wrinkles his nose, pouting. ”And by the sea the weather is too hot and damp for us; only pixies and mages live there.”
”Bloodsuckers?” Jeongguk absentmindedly starts scratching his arm, eyes not leaving Jimin’s face for one second.
”Vampires,” Jimin snorts, tone a bit condescending. ”Dad said they’re only ever strong when the night falls, but they still act arrogant and look down upon werewolves, calling us ’furballs’ and ’fleabags’.”
Jeongguk abruptly stops scratching himself, embarrassed. Jimin is busy with sorting out the vials and thus misses the upset look on the other pup’s face, the pout forming on his lips.
”So we try to avoid them, the bloodsuckers,” Jimin laughs, adjusting the cauldron above the fire. ”They’re unpleasant, Dad said.”
Silence falls onto them for a few minutes, each of them immersed in thoughts.
”On the southern continent, you didn’t tell me what lives there,” Jeongguk begins. ”Humans? Those merchants who came to us last week were humans, right?”
”Yes,” comes the reply. Werewolves often trade goods between packs but the exotic things like iced lemons or spices and chemical medicines come from human merchants, who arrive to trade from the other continent in waves; bimonthly a different merchant group with different goods to offer appears with their tracking dogs and pale horses.
”Dad said, magic runs deep in our land, it’s everywhere, in the rocks and trees and all. Y’know, regular humans have no connection to magic, so they can’t stay on our continent for too long. They have to live on the other continent where magic is absent and doesn’t ruin their health.”
They pick up the cauldron and carry it together to the wooden basin.
”Some special clans of them can use magic, though,” Jimin adds while filling the basin almost to the brim. ”They’re called mages. They can do lots of cool stuff with magic; some of them has power over elements, some of them can control shadows—”
”And when someone is a werewolf and a mage? Like Taehyung?”
”That’s pretty rare,” Jimin hums, his small fingers opening the necessary vials with practiced movements. ”Those wolves need to be trained and have the title of the pack’s shaman. Tae’s getting trained by the elders, though it’s a bit hard for everyone, considering that our pack had never had its own shaman before. Tae often says that in his opinion the elders have absolutely no idea what they’re talking about most of the time.”
”You’re so smart, Jiminie! You know everything in the world!” Jeongguk grins, wonder and amazement evident in his voice. He watches with a widening smile and eyes full of joy as Jimin squirms and flushes a bright red at the praise.
”Shush!” Jimin laughs and weakly slaps the other’s shoulder, flustered. ”Hop in the water instead, it’ll get cold.”
With a still-present smile Jeongguk obeys, meanwhile Jimin goes to prepare for dinner. He puts four wooden bowls besides the cauldron full of steaming caraway soup and starts to scoop the portions carefully. The soup has no meat in it, but Jimin is not surprised as this has been the case for over a week now. The pack is currently on the road, towards the middle of the continent, where the weather is more forgiving and there is more food for everyone. However, the general mood in the pack is tense these days, because the road is long and prey large enough is difficult to find in these corners of the continent. Ever since they left the mountains, all the hunts have been unsuccessful and the meat supply of the pack is starting to run low. One of the youngest hunters got so desperate yesterday that she tried to catch a buffalo alone, but received wounds instead. Jimin’s father is out in the woods every day, hunting with the other alphas, while his mother helps out in the healer’s yurt. The best they can hope for is that soon the pack will cross paths with other packs who migrate for the same reason, and thus the mating season will begin, and the time for shared feasts and celebration can finally come.
Jeongguk’s voice is so quiet when he speaks up, Jimin almost misses it while giving a stir to the soup, ”One day, I’ll take you to the sea. I promise.”
☽ ☼ ☾
That night, when Jimin’s parents are already asleep, the two boys lay together in Jimin’s sleeping nest, as usually they do at nights, and Jimin asks, ”I told you what my dream is, but I wonder, what’s yours, Jeonggukie?”
He does not have to think hard about the answer, ”To take you to the sea.”
Jimin giggles, pressing his reddening cheek against the furs. ”No, that’s not fair! You can’t have the same dream as me, that’s— That’s lame!”
”Why? I wanna see the sea, too!”
”No!” Jimin’s laughter comes out muffled by the blanket and he lightly punches Jeongguk’s chest. ”Come up with something else.”
”Then—” Jeongguk draws out the word, contemplating. Jimin looks at him, expectant, and Jeongguk finds himself enjoying the other boy’s attention on him greatly. ”Then my dream is to be the strongest in our pack. Or among all werewolves.”
”Why?”
”B-because!” Jeongguk stutters and turns away, burying his face in the furs. ”If I’m strongest, then no one can hurt me, ever. A-and— And I can protect you from any harm, too.”
Jimin just stares at him, not saying a word, not making a noise. After a few minutes of quiet Jeongguk grows antsy and finally looks up, and when their gazes meet, Jimin hugs him close, folding his arms around him tightly.
”I think this is a nice dream.” The warmth of his breath makes Jeongguk shudder. ”I like it.”
”You do?”
”Mhm. You’re so cute,” Jimin giggles, nuzzling into the crook of Jeongguk’s neck affectionately, inhaling the scent of clove, the tip of his nose brushing against the fading scar.
”I’ll make it come true, then,” Jeongguk whispers in a trembling voice as his arms wrap around the other’s waist, holding Jimin with so much care as if his body was made of thin porcelain. ”I promise.”
🌕 🌖 🌗 🌘 🌑 🌒 🌓 🌔 🌕
[Exact location unknown, Year 10331]
[January]
A routine, that is what Yoongi and Jeongguk have managed to estabilish through the months spent together. It has been almost a whole year since they crossed paths, a lone werewolf and a Hunter, and at first glance it was obvious what is going to happen: they were archenemies, after all. Yet, here they are, against all odds forming an alliance and fighting their way together through the continent, towards the northern region, towards Jeongguk’s pack.
”Full moon’s coming,” Yoongi informs Jeongguk while skinning the two hares the wolf managed to catch today for dinner. ”A blood moon, on top of that. And those bastards are getting closer, too.” 'Those bastards' refers to the troops of human soldiers tracking and chasing them for a while now. Yoongi clearly does not like to be the one hunted. ”We have to hurry up.”
Jeongguk nods, clearing space for their small campfire. Their daily routine is simple and includes more actions than talking. Yoongi is good with his words, actually, and can be loquacious at times when he is in the mood for it, prattling about his childhood he spent on his parents’ farm, but he can be eerily quiet, as well – and the same goes for Jeongguk, too. They get along well most likely for the reason that they both think that actions speak louder than words. They can go through entire days without saying a thing to each other, only communicating via glances and hums and gestures.
Well, at least they used to have a silent routine – until the two human explorers, Kim Seokjin and Jung Hoseok joined their alliance one month ago. Ever since then, the quiet moments in the group are pretty rare.
Seokjin is a scientist from one southern kingdom and Hoseok is a royal advisor from another. Their wish for peace between humans and magical creatures brought them together on this journey, and their special curiosity towards werewolves made them join forces with Jeongguk. They are not used to the cold nor the permanent hunger, they are not used to the unceasing marching. They are especially not used to being chased by their fellow humans with murderous intent. At first it was hard to deal with the bloody blisters on their feet, with the constant ache in their legs – but now they more or less adapted to the current situation.
Every day goes like this: they all wake up at dawn, march north till afternoon, then hunt, eat the caught prey together, march again till midnight, and sleep. Sometimes they fight. Sometimes their hunt is unsuccessful and they go to sleep with empty stomach. Sometimes the humans who are chasing them manage to get too close for comfort, making Jeongguk lose peaceful sleep at night.
Every month during the full moon Jeongguk has no choice but to shift into his wolf form, and usually those are the nights when Yoongi talks a lot. Though, the worst days are the ones when Jeongguk goes into rut, and without a mate that is just pure misery. After presenting, for five years heats and ruts happen once in a month, usually right after the night of full moon. As five years pass, the number of heats and ruts reduce to two – one week during late autumn and one week during late spring. Jeongguk presented as an alpha two years ago, so monthly ruts are inescapable for now. Yoongi or the two humans have never offered but might could help him out if Jeongguk asked them really nicely – but Jeongguk is too proud to beg and he assumes that the others would be too proud to say yes, anyway. Besides, it is not just a matter of pride; Jeongguk does not want to be touched by anyone else but Jimin, even if that means he has to get through the agony of mateless ruts.
Jimin.
While crouching over the awakening fire, trying to keep it alive, Jeongguk smiles as he thinks of Jimin – the memory of him alone is able to make the current situation bearable. Their little group is close, so close to its destination, and soon Jeongguk will finally see Jimin again, will be able to touch him, feel his warmth, hear his laugh—
”Thinking of your omega again?” Seokjin drops sticks and rods at Jeongguk’s feet, he collected them for firewood. He enjoys teasing Jeongguk a lot, ever since he found out about Jimin he never misses the opportunity to bring him up, just to watch Jeongguk blush and squirm and smile like a fool.
”Yeah, ’course he’s thinking of him again, when is he not?” Yoongi grins, elbows deep inside one hare’s intestines, humour lacing his husky voice. ”That’s all I’ve been listening to for months. For months! Can you imagine? Jimin is so smart, Jimin is so sweet, Jimin is so pretty, I miss Jimin so much, Jimin this, Jimin that—”
”I’m not like this!” Jeongguk protests with a pout, shaking his head and holding his hands up defensively, dark hair falling into his round eyes.
”Right,” Yoongi’s grin turns a bit sinister. ”You’re not like this. Never. Especially not when you have your ruts and the only coherent thing that leaves your mouth is his name—”
”Okay, fine, I talk about Jimin a lot,” Jeongguk gives in and clears his throat, turning away to hide the bright flush on his cheeks. He picks up a stone and toys with it, just to do something with his hands. ”But I haven’t seen him in three years… Anyone in my place would miss their mate just as much as I do!”
”If I recall correctly, he’s not your mate, though.”
”Yet,” Jeongguk huffs, throwing the stone away with unnecessary force. ”But he’s waiting for me, for my return. We promised to mate when we were young and Jimin would wait for me forever, just like I’d wait for him,” he says with a dreamy look on his face and so much trust, so much fondness in his voice, it makes Yoongi’s chest tighten. ”In our pack Jiminie was well-known for never breaking his promises, y’know.”
”And here we go again,” the Hunter laughs, ruffling Jeongguk’s wild, messy hair with affection. ”I swear, at this point I know more details about your precious Jiminie than about myself.”
”Good,” Jeongguk glances at him with playful mockery in his eyes. ”He’s a much more interesting person than you, anyways, old man.”
In fact, all three of the other boys are not much older than he is, but Jeongguk tends to generously ignore this fact.
Yoongi snorts. ”Just for your information, I could kill you in at least twenty different ways right now, werewolf, so I advise you to be a bit less disrespectful.” There is no real threat in his voice, and Jeongguk knows, too, that Yoongi would never hurt him. Not after what happened with the two of them half a year ago; how they had to save each other’s lives numerous times, how they had to rely on each other for survival.
”Sure, Hunter,” he cackles, turning his attention to the small campfire once again. ”Whatever helps you sleep at night.”
With practiced movements he avoids Seokjin’s incoming scolding, respect-your-elders punch, not holding back his laughter when he sees Seokjin’s exaggeratedly offended expression.
”You’re getting too good at dodging!”
”Or maybe you’re getting too slow with age?”
”Brat.”
”Old man.”
”Yes, I’m older than you, we all know that! What are you gonna do about it?!”
”Gonna keep getting better at dodging your weak-ass punches!”
Yoongi glances up to see how red Seokjin’s face is from suppressed laughter, and to see the cheeky smile on Jeongguk’s lips, then continues skinning and gutting the hare while snickering under his breath in amusement. There is rarely a quiet moment nowadays in their little group, but if Yoongi is being honest with himself, he cannot say he actually minds it.
”What’s going on, folks?” The fourth member of their group, Hoseok steps to them with arms full of branches for firewood. He lifts an eyebrow at Seokjin’s flushed face and Yoongi’s shaking shoulders. ”Did you guys fight again?”
”It wasn’t a fight,” Seokjin smiles, gathering all the firewood together in a heap. ”We just tried to teach the brat some respect.”
Jeongguk continues fussing with the firepit, deciding to ignore the conversation.
Hoseok cracks a sarcastic grin. ”Well, good luck with that! Our Jeonggukie here has a one-track mind, where nothing else has place but Jimi—”
”Okay, I get it, I talk about him a lot!” Jeongguk laughs. ”Give me a break! As soon as I mate him, I promise I’ll shut up—”
”Bullshit,” Yoongi butts in, pulling one stick through the hare’s body as a skewer. ”We all know that as soon as you mate him, you’ll start bragging about how you’ve the prettiest, most perfect mate in the whole world.”
”True!” Hoseok and Seokjin agree in unison.
Jeongguk huffs and rolls his eyes but does not deny the accusation, nor does he do anything to hide his smile.
☽ ☼ ☾
”Jeongguk,” comes Yoongi’s hushed voice, urgent and serious. It is cold and dark around them, just before the break of dawn. The wolf is curled up into a ball, not wanting to move – his tail is laying warm on his nose, everything is warm and cozy, his dreams are full of Jimin’s tinkling laughter and gentle smiles and sweet touches, and Jeongguk does not feel ready yet to wake up and face reality. Reality that is cold and dark and Jimin-less.
”Hey!” Yoongi pokes him in the ribs, and the wolf’s golden eyes fly open. The air in the tiny ice cave is buzzing with anticipation and it makes Jeongguk feel strangely anxious. He shifts into his human form and wraps his pelts around himself quickly while throwing a questioning glance at Yoongi.
”What’s going on?”
Yoongi, Seokjin and Hoseok turn to each other, apparently unable to suppress their excitement any longer.
”My tracking devices, Jeongguk-ah!” Seokjin says, adding that weird human honorific he and Hoseok both use after names. The scientist’s voice is trembling with enthusiasm. ”I took a short walk in the morning and my tracking devices suddenly started to sign a werewolf territory approximately two miles from here! And based on those informations we’ve gathered so far during our travel, we’ve every reason to suspect that that territory belongs to your old pack!”
Jeongguk remains eerily calm on the outside while he dresses up wordlessly, but internally he is screaming. The only thing he can think about is that soon he might will finally see Jimin again. Three years ago a massive avalanche had separated Jeongguk from the rest of his pack, then humans trapped him and took him to the southern continent to experiment on him. Now as a free and grown-up alpha, he is finally back to where he belongs; after being beaten and used and chased by humans, after being put in dog pits and forced to fight for entertainment, he can finally be with his omega, his promised mate—
Still. Something does not feel right. Jeongguk cannot really tell what and why, but something about the possibility of seeing Jimin suddenly makes him feel uneasy and terrified just as much as euphoric. His wolf side has always had good instincts and his human side usually has right intuitions – and Jeongguk fears what this all can possibly mean for him.
”What? You’re not even happy?” Seokjin playfully smacks Jeongguk’s shoulder.
”I dunno,” the boy admits quietly, averting his gaze, scratching the skin by his thumbnail nervously. ”I was 17 when Jimin and I last saw each other, since then many things must’ve changed— I changed. And I’m scared that— If he, maybe—”
Seokjin pats him on the back gently. ”You’re scared that he won’t like you anymore?”
Jeongguk does not know how to put into words what he is feeling, so he just nods. Tears prickle his eyes and he feels like he is being pushed underwater. One part of him would like to run those two miles and kiss Jimin till they are both breathless – and another part of him wants to dig a hole somewhere far away, lie down into it and never move again.
”I don’t think that’s a possibility,” Hoseok states with a fond smile. ”If this Jiminie of yours is as crazy about you as you are about him, then I can’t imagine that only three years of your absence changed anything.”
Jeongguk exhales slowly, considering Hoseok’s opinion – it sounds so nice, so good! Jeongguk wants to believe it with his whole heart, and he knows that he trusts Jimin. Whom he does not trust is himself; he lived either with humans or as a wild lone wolf in the past few years, after all – will he be still good enough for Jimin? He met Jimin for the first time as a flea-ridden illiterate slave, and now, more than a decade later he will return to Jimin while having fleas again – on the road it is hard to get rid of the little bastards –, being dirty and messy and battleworn. What if— What if Jimin found someone else while Jeongguk was away? No, that is an option so painful that Jeongguk does not even want to think about it. It is not even an option, after all: Jimin and he made a promise all those long years ago, a promise never to be broken.
”I am yours and you are mine. Wherever you go, my heart goes with you. And no matter how long it takes for you to come back to me, I’ll be waiting. Waiting and waiting, forever, if that’s what it takes. I promise.”
Jeongguk remembers those words they had said as vividly as if it was yesterday, because those words kept him alive in the past three years. Those words, that promise, the hope of homecoming.
”Well, one way to find out what your Jiminie has to say about your arrival,” Yoongi yawns and stretches his neck till it crackles pleasantly. ”Let’s go and intrude some wolf pack territory.”