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“Welcome to Smilodon Paradise Museum of Natural History-”His deep voice rumbles through the entrance hall with pleasant familiarity, stumbling against every arch and corner of the enclosure. Above them, an ample structure of glass ceiling bathes the space in tender sunlight, illuminating the paradoxical lobby where modernity has simplified stylistic elements from to the royal architecture of the Joseon Dynasty.He taps the golden name-tag that rests over his heart, and continues with practiced enthusiasm, “I’m Taehyung and I’ll be your tour guide this riveting morning. I hope you enjoy your visit. If you don’t, well, I’m bound to thank you for financing our meals anyways!”A tiny, pale hand instantly shoots out from the disquiet crowd of hawk-eyed kids. Taehyung tracks the lighting-shaped arm down and zooms in the small and egg-shaped face, smiling pleasantly at the little girl with precious curls that is chewing her bottom lip nervously.“Yes?”She scrunches her nose in thought.“What species are you, Mr. Taehyung?”He crooks his neck and tilts his head, widening his eyes and gently rotating his slender tail in a playful mannerism reserved mostly for cubs. His copper locks ticklishly frame his cheekbones, and he has to shake some of them out of his vision. He hopes his easygoing countenance will serve to relax her, to some degree, for she stinks of anxiety. “Why don’t you take a guess?”“A... um, a… uh. Tiger?”He bares his canines in an ample, rectangular smile. A collective gasp follows.Another hand raises spontaneously. And another. And another.“How big is your animal?”“Do you hate bathing?”“Are you going to eat us if we misbehave? My appa says you do that. You eat your kids.”Well, now that is rather bold, and a little crude likewise.Their homeroom teacher, a pale lady with short black hair, grows visibly mortified. She reminds her class to stick to questions related to educational matters, which some tiny humans outsmart by simply stating that learning about him is educational enough.Frankly, Taehyung does not mind being under the spotlight, regardless of how intrusive it could be considered. Pride fills him in heatwaves instead. He knows his amber eyes are glimmering with jovial satisfaction, and that his scent has spiked richly. If human kids counted with a nose half-sharp as his, they would acknowledge he is not bothered by their interrogation.Far from it: he is quite delighted.“Indeed, I’m a tiger. A Bengal tiger. A Tigris-tigris in the books”, he responds, swaying his vivid, striped tail away from his column so the children will be able to glimpse at it properly. It is a shame the beret is a mandatory part of the uniform, for he would be more than complaisant to remove it and parade his ears with fake eyes, or ocelli, as researchers have named them. “I’m ten feet in length and weight around three hundred and eighty-so pounds. I’m a little underweight, actually. My papa used to be one hundred pounds heavier than me. We tigers are the heaviest among our kind.”“Woah”, half of the kids murmur in reverent wonder, the rest holding their breaths. “That’s like—a very huge cat!” Another little lady quacks offhandedly, a telltale blush betraying her shyness.Taehyung presents another all-killing, boxy smile. He focuses on the only boy cowering away, whose appa probably pegs him as a slaughtering machine. Which is not far from the truth, because Taehyung can be dangerous when provoked, but oh, well.“I don’t hate baths—in fact, I love them—, and no, I won’t be snacking on any of you if you misbehave. Once you’re back home, you can tell your parents that I’m totally harmless and just as adorable”, he reassures with a wink.The teacher flushes, steering her eyes to study the simple pattern of the flooring, and Taehyung feels his confidence upsurging. He straightens his posture to exude an acceptable level of professional seriousness, ready to continue with the presentation. It is scripted he must not forgo any introductory step.“I’m hoping you do behave well. We reward stellar visitors with lot of sweets and special toys from our gift shop. I’ll even roar for you if you are nice enough and follow the rules your seongsenim must have told you already.”The kids react as expected and Taehyung’s nostrils convulse with the blast of anticipation. Over the colorful snippets of sunny happiness, their teacher smells a little stormy already, most likely less than thrilled by the prospect of dealing with a classroom full of children under the unpredictable effects of sugar. “Alright, then. Let’s begin with our adventure. Remember: stay in line, do not run nor try to outpace anyone, and be careful around our displays—sajangnim gets very, very angry when kids cause trouble or break things. If you’re worried about anyone eating you, it should be him, not me.”“Is he a cat hybrid, too?”“The correct term is ailuranthrope, little one. But, no, he isn’t. Sajangnim’s ninety percent human and ten percent ogre”, he raises a hand and covers the corner of his mouth to increase the suspense. A handful of kids close to him lean forward. “But that’s a secret I’m not allowed to tell, so don’t tattle, okay?”His audience dramatically gulps and an extensive array of scents spur, the olfactory banquet like a perfume repository on his tongue. Taehyung purposefully shows his backside and joggles his tail to grab their attention, starting to lead them toward the right wing. The soft, rhythmical sound of his footsteps echo as another comforting part of his routine.He mentally applauds how the patient teacher exerts her authority and shepherds the class in precise order, adhering to the rules. She is still more than fearful, her rigid body language unraveling that much, but Taehyung cannot blame her. If anything, he sympathizes with her. He would not be entirely comfortable around a predator either.“Does anyone know what ‘Smilodon’ stands for?”A chubby boy with glasses murmurs, reticent, answers him. “Double-edged knife-like tooth?”“Wonderful”, the tiger grins with genuine surprise. “You must be the smartest boy I’ve ever met. Very few people get it right since it’s been borrowed from a foreign language. But, yes, that’s what the name of our park stands for—”The kids battle to gain his attention, wanting a sticker-star compliment for themselves as well, yet Taehyung is celebrating the bashful yet very elated smile he has managed to paint over the chubby boy’s face. That summarizes what he truly adores the most about his job, what makes the entire ordeal endurable and meaningful.He starts recounting every detail about his kin history and their evolution with great passion. He refers to their hardships with modesty, remembers to keep them entertained with humorous jokes, and hopes this day will be as promising as his first group of tiny human guests is. By definition, Smilodon Paradise is an artificially park built. Taehyung likes to argue how natural its soul and structure feel, though. He can defend his point for hours straight if given the opportunity.The park’s numerous miles are rigorously protected, for its miscellaneous scenery is home to feline therianthropes at the very brink of extinction. It accommodates the needs of a wide range of species, hereby it does not harbor an uninterrupted landscape but multiple habitats, with effluent streams and clean lakes, and a generous amount of prey. Taehyung’s former block of rustic cabins, where he used to reside before joining his streak, is located in the heart of an evergreen forest. In there, a humid climate has been prepared for his specific species and their biological set.“So, have you seen wild ailuranthropes before, or this is your first time encountering them?” His midday group loiters around the wide, circular information desk. Behind it, Taehyung balances his weight slowly, shifting from on one foot to the other, eyes tied to his interlocutor. This time, the group consists of a relatively voluminous family. The old lady in a beautiful Gucci kaftan, who has bombarded him with merry pleasantries upon seeing him, has the soigné aplomb of a matriarch. Observing how her relatives responds to her as Taehyung and the streak responds to Namjoon results a bit intriguing, although the humans’ resentful reluctance is not diluted at all. Silly things they are, who could learn a thing or two about teamwork from Taehyung’s so-called primitive kinship.The majority of visitants are middle-aged adults, with a random teenager seldom popping up, and a handful of precious toddlers in their mothers’ arms. Those in particular have Taehyung cooing happily every now and then. Tiniest humans are his favorite.Nobody seems bothered about the fact that their tour is running behind schedule. Someone is missing and someone else has tasked to bring them, and that appears to be even less of a concern. Admittedly, Taehyung would have appreciated punctuality and proceeding with the agenda, but that is not what has his spine growing tenser. He is more worried that his supervisor will discover him idly fraternizing with the visitors instead of earmarking his group for another hour and being useful in the storage.Taehyung, in spite of everything, tends to like human’s company. He finds them amusing enough. So, he would rather stay talking to the nice old lady about vanguardist artists and her favorite jazz classics, freely fussing over her adorable great-grandchildren as well, than sorting out old, dusty boxes in that damp storage room where everything smells either ancient or rotten, or both.Moreover, Namjoon is constantly reiterating how beneficial it is for Smilodon that they demonstrate they are not animals playing humans, as many prevalent misconceptions have cemented. Naturally, Taehyung is obligated to heed and uphold his alpha’s view.“I’ve met my share of domestic breeds, since some of my friends own a few, but never species like you”, she answers him. She is the chattiest woman, fearless enough to interact with him so casually, all risks considered. Taehyung loves her indiscriminating friendliness. “Actually, I encountered one feline outside. He was handing out pamphlets for a hybrid-managed coffee shop nearby. He was very tall and brawny, with a fluffy, long tail. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a tail as long as that.”Taehyung snorts at the familiar description. “Was he wearing black clothes and looked a little lost?”“Yes. Poor thing seemed rather terrified of us, too, with his tail tightly wrapped around one of his ankles. Do you know him?”“His name’s Jeongguk”, he fondly tells her. “We’re close.”Said boy is Taehyung’s streak-mate, or leap-mate according to Jeongguk, or coalition brother per Namjoon and Hoseok’s sentimentalist words. They have yet to come to a concession concerning the formal label of their group constituted by exceptionally attuned misfits, but the abstract essence of the concept upholds. They are family. A pack, as wolves would say.“He isn’t a tiger.”“Nope. Guks’ a snow leopard. An extraordinarily big one at that.”“I bet you’re bigger than him, aren’t you?” She teases, and he beams with a perky nod. He does admire how talented Jeongguk is, so dexterous and agile at anything he sets his mind and heart on, but having the upper hand in something is quite satisfying. “I know tigers are the largest species.”Taehyung’s tail suavely traces shapeless figures.“We are. Siberian and Bengals have a dispute for the largest individual among Felidae”, he quirks his lips as he glances at the intricate skylight above them. He squints. “Jeongguk’s currently sturdier than I, though. He’s all muscles. Loves working out.”“Oh, does he now?”The lady bends imperceptibly closer, a bit intrusively, and even her distracting J’Adore cannot coat the intrigued quality over her scent. There is a funny tint mingled underneath, which he cannot pinpoint to any reaction he is familiar with. Nevertheless, he knows it is not good news.Taehyung espies a strange, keen intensity brightening her irises. It has something desperate in it.“What kind of life quality do you have in here?”“I can’t complain. It’s satisfying.”A strange emotion transverses her mien and Taehyung frowns. For some reason, he does not like her earnest countenance. “Is that so?” She hums.His tail winds up as he ruminates for a conventional, civil response. The likelihood of her being an undercover activist who is scrapping for excuses to close the park down is higher than not. Would not be the first case, has been happening enough for it to not be outrageous anymore. Taehyung has been forced to learn to enact diplomacy when needed. Some people just do not understand.“Smilodon’s based on a eudemonic philosophy. It offers opportunities for us to exploit our mental faculties and practical abilities, to live according to a virtue so we can reach happiness—we just don’t laze around taking sunbaths, we got to sweat, bleed and shed tears, too, in the best self-improving way possible”, Taehyung formally explains and feels victorious when she laughs gently at his sensible phrasing. “Apart from the landscapes you must’ve seen, there is a more urbanized, neutral area with facilities to keep our rational counterparts all hale and hearty. It’s like a small town with workshops. It’s nice.”“What about hospitals?”“The medical faculty’s at the core of the park”, he squats to retrieve one of the illustrative maps he always forgets to use, and eagerly shows her what he is talking about. “The labs and premises are top-notch, especially the epidemiology department. We get regular shots for tropical plagues since there’s a jungle in the middle of the park and a lot of crazy mosquitos spur from it”, he breathes out in one go. “It’s all good.”She quiets down like a punctured balloon. Taehyung does not dare to divert his attention from her wistful semblance, the nostalgic fog in the air frazzling him. His ears keep swiveling back and forth under his beret, the bustling of her family hardly distracting. It feels like she is contemplating a crucial matter, something life-changing, and he is wary of looking away and missing something important.That is, until additional footfalls sound from the main entrance, a rapid tap-tap-tap against the bright tiles, and he instinctively whirls to virtually seize whoever is coming.“Grandma, please, don’t look so cozy around that freak”, the newcomer grumbles.The nasty remark, courtesy of an ostensibly antsy teenager with a glaring attitude problem, silences most of the trivial talking happening around. The lady’s wrinkled face twitches with second-hand embarrassment, and Taehyung arches an eyebrow and rumbles lowly in warning.The obnoxious lanky thing is in a foul mood, and seems set on expressing so.“That beast could, like, attack you—and next time, don’t send your lapdog after me. He’s so annoying. This entire trip sucks as it is, I don’t need him also spoiling whatever fun I can manage to have.”Taehyung considers interrupting him to politely clarify that there is a higher chance of him attacking a senseless teenager who marches inside his space as if he owned the place, than him bothering an old human. After all, arrogance is a grating call for brawling. Tigers rarely serve to typify sociability among felines, more so because of their territorial and solitary nature, and although Taehyung deems his personality quite convivial, it is rooted in his genetics that antagonism shall not be treated lightly.Antagonism is unspoken challenge. Challenging a dominant tiger is not wise. Far from it.He stays quiet, though. A small console: the old lady appears as unhappy as he feels.“Jiwon, that’s out of line”, a man chides, possibly the kid’s father. It is measly strict, almost laughable. Taehyung has seen parents smacking kids for talking informally here. “You should apologize—”A taciturn, timid shadow emerges from behind the boy, and Taehyung omits whatever else is said between father and son. A young man of lithe frame, gracefully nimble footsteps and dancer-like carriage strolls in. He somewhat reminds him of Hoseok. A striking hue of metallic grey hair with brushstrokes of a bluish ombré descends out of the hem of his beanie and encompasses his snowy profile. A choker embroidered with a black stone circles his frail neck, adding certain delicacy to his looks. He wears tight jeans, an oversized sweater, and neat designer shoes.Taehyung marginally swoons. The human is beautiful.The thought sends him spiraling down a momentary existential crisis. His kin hardly finds humans attractive, mainly because their odors tend to carry unappealing chemicals from all the awful stuff they consume and apply on daily basis. And yet, this man certainly retains a spellbinding allure, a one-in-a-million beauty, as one of the most wondrous compositions Taehyung has ever admired. The stranger has him evoking episodes where he has sat admiring sincere renaissance artwork, with his plump lips and sharply chiseled features.And, curiously enough, he comes just as scentless as a sculpture.Taehyung has never experienced such olfactory phenomenon, or the lack of thereof. Disconcerting falls short to delineate how unexpected that results, how unheard of it is. The human oozes a clinical release as if he were enduring an overpowering pharmacotherapy that has erased even the hints of his biological individuality. What Taehyung finds more disturbing is that he cannot catch a whiff of any alarming sickness beneath.The human notices his staring and ducks his head. Taehyung’s tail jerks at the provocation, but he is promptly lured away by another dilemma.“Halmeoni, I want to be at the show”, the annoying boy says, forcefully formal, and the mute, ethereal man behind him grimaces. “Please.”Taehyung scrunches his nose, perceiving the acerbic mood change under the boy’s skin.“That’s probably the best thing this place’s to offer and we’re here, wasting time—"“Jiwon”, the grandmother tuts. The frustration permeating the air dulls, giving room to awareness. “We have first-row seats for the last show. Right now, we’re letting Taehyung here”, she gestures at him, and he tightly smiles on cue, “gives us a tour to learn more about this sanctuary. I paid for this trip, so hush, you spoiled boy. Fall in line with the rest of your cousins.”“But—”“Hush, I said”, she regards Taehyung sweetly. “Can you tell me anything more about the lifestyle you have inside? For example... how do the performers of tonight train and such?”“What the hell is she up to now?” Jiwon mutters, but Taehyung hears him just fine.The man from before grunts as others snicker around. “Just let her be.”Taehyung ignores them, and mulls over her question.Income is imperative to support labs and living premises, so tourism is not unusual. The restricted breadth with vegetation and delicate ecosystems is a little more spacious than the fraction open to the public. However, most of their jobs depend on the area open for humans, for the main, lucrative attractions that keep the park functioning are amassed there: the museum, the artisanal market, the ball-court and the stadium that usually serves as stage for their world-class contemporary circus. Whereas the ball-court is only active during seasonal passages, the rest welcomes visitors four days per week. There are also safari night-trips through their habitats, but those are organized and strictly managed by their caretakers.The circus’ crew trains for their spectacles almost daily, with Mondays reserved for active rest; also, the members are subjected to more medical appointments than the rest of ailuranthropes. Even with a demanding schedule, Hoseok still finds the time to hunt and spend with his coalition. Which is why Taehyung could affirm that they are not being abused with an unbearable workload.“My friend, Hoseok-hyung, is one of the recurrent stars of Smilodon Stage,” he replies at last. “He plays Petruchio’s role for this month’s play and—”Jiwon-brat scoffs with his clique of affluent, bratty youngsters.“I wouldn’t call a freak star.”“Jiwon.”Although Taehyung’s steel nerves keep his gracious smile and temperate posture intact, his instincts are crawling up like briskly ants under his skin at the same time imaginative vignettes of him snarling, imposing and mauling the insufferable kid until he shows some respect swarm with insistence in his head. Taehyung quashes down any impulse as smoothly as possible. Do not get him wrong, though. Taehyung is not obscenely ferocious just because. As a matter of fact, he is the calmest tiger shapeshifter in the park. But some humans are naturally good at acting like pesky mosquitos buzzing in a perfectly quiet night. Anyone would try to swat them.Taehyung’s tail is tense, ready to trash, and his ears twist a little. The hair on his nape has risen. He forces a deep breath down his throat. He cannot execute any dominance, under any circumstance, not even to defend his hyung’s honor. Hurting children is not what he does, not even unreasonably hostile brats. He likes humans, he truly does, and he is perfectly capable of tolerating those less than amicable.He proffers an olive branch. “I could get you backstage passes if you wish to meet the acrobats. I’m sure Hoseok-hyung would be happy to answer your questions.”Hoseok will also get mad at him for throwing him under the bus, but hyung will understand, eventually. Taehyung abhors politics, and is hardly the most eloquent representative to deal with these type of situations. He could ensure Namjoon’s presence backstage as well, so their hyung can aid Hoseok dissipating whatever doubts the lady may still have about Smilodon. Perhaps their leader would also help him degrade the brat’s self-conceit with passive-aggressive, outsmarting retorts.(Namjoon is too good-natured to do that, but Taehyung likes to dream).The boy scowls, unsurprisingly, but his grandmother has the decency to appear grateful.“That’d be so nice. Thank you, Taehyung.”An agreeable chorus follows, more obliged than not, and Taehyung manages to simmer down before getting down to work.He picks a bunch of booklets and passes them around, steadily reciting a few lines from the hospitality script. He repeats prime museum rules, how the building layout is planned, where emergency exits are located, and the list of special exhibitions that are imperative to visit.Once he is done, he steers the group towards their first stop. They are about to cross the arch to one of the two main fossil halls when the matriarch falls a step behind, and twirls to scan the group. “Jimin?” The old lady suddenly calls the ghost-like person who is shuffling quietly at the very back. The beautiful human is Jimin, Taehyung thinks. “What are you doing? Come forward. Walk with me.”Taehyung frowns to himself the moment wide-eyed Jimin hesitates and toys with the long sleeves of his sweater. He sidesteps the mass of human bodies and approaches with his gaze held downcast, tentative steps starkly different from before, and the ostracizing sneers and stinky side-glances he receives do not go overseen by Taehyung.He wonders why these humans are so nasty.A pang of responsibility strikes his chest, and the tiger shapeshifter fancies the possibility of avenging Jimin. It is a sentiment included in the dominant package, that self-righteous, prone- to-trouble sense of justice. These humans surely know how to act petty and tinker all his instincts in the worst possible way. Must be the idiosyncratic arrogance that will not dissipate.“Taehyung, this is Jimin-ah”, the old lady introduces them. Maybe Taehyung is seeing things, but her eyes seem to sparkle brighter than before, looking hopeful. “Jimin, this is Taehyung. He’s a tiger.”The emphasis clues some mystery Taehyung cannot even begin outlining.“Nice to meet you, Jimin-ssi”, Taehyung gently bows and avoids stretching a hand to be shaken, which many visitors have deemed unlikable before, but Jimin remains unbothered.Taehyung hopes Jimin realizes he is not purposely rejecting him by skipping touching. Ailuranthropes do not share those physical courtesies, so common among humans, for scenting, a direct consequence of touching, is reserved exclusively for the family. For the streak.“Jiminie’s a little shy”, the woman sing-songs. “At least today.”“It’s alright—” He says and moves his hands, remembering the few signs un suhwa he know.The old lady seems stunned, and then she coos. “No, not like that.”There is something in Jimin’s dark gaze, something heartbreaking obfuscating his eyes, an appalling indifference that does not seem to belong. It rattles Taehyung in all the wrong ways, though he cannot precisely understand why. All he knows is that he genuinely wishes he could make it better. He wishes he could put a smile on Jimin’s face, comely and upbeat like the chubby kid’s from his morning group. Jimin maintains that solemn nonchalance as he returns Taehyung’s gesture with a bow before drawing himself closer to the old lady without uttering a word. His subdued attitude has Taehyung wondering of his intentions, and whether Jimin is aiming to just blend with the crowd because he cannot withstand the family’s vicious attention, or if that sad indifference feasts from a more profound grief.Taehyung remembers then where he is and what has to be done. So, he advances, talking about first shapeshifters’ bone structures, about the long extinct species, about everything he treasures about his own kin’s history.Later, he thinks. Later, he will make Jimin erase that austere, blasé expression. Later, Taehyung physically misses the group of receptive and well-educated tiny humans. He is ready to tug at his own hair in sheer frustration.The adults are infuriating, poking their noses in personal matters, just to belittle whatever he reveals with condescending comments.
“What do you do on your free days, Taehyung-ssi?”
“Probably copulates a lot. I heard that their breeders go into heat every twenty-minutes until they get pregnant. Must be quiet enjoyable, such an easy life. “
“That’s not the case with us, really”, at all. “I like painting. Sometimes, I teach a workshop at—”
“Ah, yes, what did they call it? Rock art? You must see modern graphics and fine works, boy. See how we do it out of the primitive terrains. I’m certain you’d like it.”
Taehyung laughs. It is sardonically.
Not to mention, their teenagers are downright stupid and have minus ten sense of self-preservation.Taehyung should have predicted that Jiwon would not trouble himself with even eyeing the basic rules of the museum plastered on every goddamned corner. Because, as soon as they cross the long corridor that merges an exhibition of fossils with the hall of ancient cultures that practiced therianthrope sacrifices, Jiwon runs ahead of him. Of a feline shapeshifter, an ailuranthrope.An intricate, beautiful red throne with golden ornaments sits in the far end of the enclosure, a relic donated to the museum for the mesmerizing paintings on its back that depict a shapeshifter’s eternal dream, or the sacrificing ritual. Jiwon sprints towards it, guard completely down, stride so loud and clownish that it startles Taehyung. His cousins are none the wiser, hurrying forward an instant later.Taehyung feels his pupils tremble as the teenagers dash past him. Their high-pitched voices splatter against the walls, hurting his eardrums with their demands to be photographed in front of the throne. They skip around like meaningless fleas, flaunting their open backs so carelessly, Taehyung is briefly amazed by their idiocy.But then, an overwhelming urge to ambush knocks the air out of him, so powerful and merciless that it has his knees buckling. It impales his chest, shortens his breathing, and blinds him for a second. In that odd haze, all Taehyung can think is—you must be kidding me.Every qualified caretaker and zookeeper recommends: never turn your back on big cats. It is explicitly stated in the park’s guidelines, stamped everywhere so people will not forget, and with reason. Open backs are to them what a matador’s cape is to a bull; they detonate primitive behaviors embedded in their DNA. Bulls charge, felines ambush.And heavens, does Taehyung want to.It would not be his first time handling this type of situation, because humans’ overconfidence tends to make them naively reckless, but this time something is different. Something with him. With a cold sensation of dread coursing through his veins, Taehyung realizes he cannot ignore the ferocious voice in the back of his head, cannot fend off the tenacious, one-word litany of his hotheaded alter ego like he tends to do.
Stalk-run-pounce.
Stalk-run-pounce.
Stalk-run-pounce.
Stalk-run-pounce!
His skin prickles harshly as his hair stands on its end. Taehyung grows particularly irritable within a heartbeat, as self-control further slips through his fingers, so fast, so easily, it is nothing but horrific.Something else is triggering him.“Shit—”An involuntary growl escapes him, like a belch erupting too fast, too strepitous. He halts a few meters away from the troublesome teenagers, watching them with sharp eyes.He starts to mentally count. 1, 2, 3, 4...The adults copy him, standing a few feet away from him, immediately sensing the dangerous vibe he radiates. The jerky tail must be a good giveaway, too. “Jiwon-ssi, everybody”, he croaks out, and his voice sounds rougher, hostile. “Turn around and slowly join your family. Don’t show me your back. Keep your chins high, but do not look me in the eye.”
5, 6...
“Why?” They squeak out.“Don’t be a killjoy!”“We’re not doing anything—”Taehyung’s back shivers with the sweet milking of fear.“Just do it.”
Start over. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5...
He takes out a pager from his pocket, keys in a code with shaking fingers. Green. MSN hall.“Is anything wrong, dear?” The old lady queries. Jimin, who sticks to her side like a bodyguard, carefully glides until he is mostly shielding her.What a brave man, Taehyung secretly concedes.His dead, lusterless gaze is pinned on the tiger. He seems to be analyzing him.Taehyung gulps. “Don’t worry. It’s—it’s nothing.”
5, 6, 7...
Two girls listen to Taehyung’s instructions and pull another boy with them. Taehyung’s lips are drawn down, tightened in place so he will not bare his canines. Only one kid remains.“Jiwon-ssi”, he punctuates, exasperated. He hates causing a scene. “Not listening to your tour guide’s indications can get you banned from the museum. I’m asking you to walk back.”
7...
The teenager has the guts to look him straight in the eyes and flip him off—his second form is chuffing and now Taehyung does feel like a bloody bull, ready to charge—, before continuing to flutter around the throne. His grandmother seems to grasp the gravity of Taehyung’s stress and tries reasoning with Jiwon, jittery and pushing, to no avail. His parents chime in to aid her, also wary of Taehyung’s sudden comportment, yet he ignores them with a shrug.Maybe he enjoys it. Maybe Jiwon likes playing the haughty role. Maybe he fancies arrogance.
7... 7… 7…
But two can play that game. There is nothing as fulfilling as breaking an arrogant spirit.“Taehyung-ssi—” The old lady calls. It sounds like a plea.Taehyung struggles to turn to them. A part of him seeks him, seeks Jimin.He is vaguely surprised that Jimin’s expression is not judgmental, mostly resigned. It is as if he knows what sort of things are currently barreling through Taehyung’s mind, and how he is having the hardest time lying to himself about how not wrong it feels—the aggressiveness, the bloodthirst, the desire to play.Maybe Jimin thinks of him as a helpless, irrational monster. Taehyung would be disappointed if his mind were not in jumbles at the moment.
Again! 1, 2, 3—1, 2, 3—4, 4, 4—5, 6-
Jimin’s eyes travel ahead, and Taehyung automatically mirrors him, only to face Jiwon’s back taunting him. Grave mistake.Sinews contract on his back and he has to clench his fists, claws digging into skin, to keep himself from snapping at once. Still, his eyes widen, his body spasms. He stealthily squats down as the family starts bickering behind him, irking him even more. His tail comes to rest squarely on the floor as his predatory mindset fights to take over. He smells human wariness clogging the immediate proximity and it does little to provide any help for his case.It’s not hunting time—
Stalk-run-pounce.
No, just fucking breathe—5, 6, 7, 8—
Stalk-run-pounce!
A security guard arrives. He sees Taehyung’s posture, and quickly tells the humans to back away.“Jiwon-ssi”, Taehyung hisses. It does not sound like a name, or a word for the matter. His instincts are too riled up now. He is lightheaded and hot. There is fire in his heart, spreading wildly.He needs quietude, but the humans are too overwrought. They screech and shuffle in panic. Taehyung has to bite his tongue, feel the pain, before trying to speak again.“Jiwon-ssi, this is my last warning. If you don’t heed, the museum policy will be on my side. Go back to your family.”“Everybody”, the old lady has a commanding tilt on, “it’s okay, calm down. This is—no, Sungyeol, wait!”Taehyung moves. Someone has dared to verge on him, attempting on delivering a kick to his ribs. He dodges and stoops, letting his glistening fangs come to sight, throat spewing out a threatening growl. His eyes quickly narrow in a glare before he is lunging forward, lighter in this form and just as fleet. There is a scuffle, a blurry of movements, and then he freezes. He has not landed on the man who was stupid enough to attack him on his borderline vicious state. His mouth stops not centimeters shy from that man’s pulsating carotid. Instead, his teeth brush a stylish choker.When he comes to it, he realizes that Jimin is the one under him, squirming uncomfortably.
Jimin. Beautiful human, Jimin.
Taehyung automatically softens, the wrinkles of his snarling face vanishing. His mind shifts, and the number surge swiftly—1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10.He breathes in more of the leaden scent that anesthetizes his nose. His body goes a little pliant. Jimin unveils his dark eyes once Taehyung’s grumbling is reduced to a meek groan, and the tiger confusedly watches as a tiny halo of blue peeps behind Jimin’s left iris.Jimin blinks up and presses his lips together. There is a bluer border around his iris, more prominent than before. It looks weird, deformed.Then, it dawns on Taehyung why Jimin’s gaze looks so unnaturally bleak, so distant, so empty. He is wearing brown contacts.“I’m sorry”, Taehyung’s ears have tuned out their surroundings, but now that blood is flowing less like a thundering torrent and his heart-rate is slowing down, he hears the arising mayhem around them. Jimin is unfazed by their flushed bodes, and the chaos his family is causing. “Fuck—shit, I’m sorry.”The human nods gravely before shoving him off and scrambling away, tugging his beanie even lower as if to isolate the chaotic noise. Taehyung watches him go, a little dumbfounded.Jiwon is yelling insults, the man whom he almost mauled has peed himself, and everyone else is doing their best to amplify the scandal, blowing the security guard with judicial threats and creative insults. And as much as the tiger is pissed off beyond belief because he has not felt that wrathful and untamed since his first rut and it is all these people’s fault, he is overcome by a dampening incredulity.There is no way a human has outrun him.There is no fucking way. What the hell—Hoseok and Jeongguk will not let him live this down if they find out. And they will, undoubtedly, definitely, because Taehyung cannot keep his mouth shut. Not from his streak.“Taehyung! Are you okay?”A couple of caretakers and another security guard approach him with prudent steps, and Taehyung hisses quietly as he catches sight of the taser gun hanging from the guard’s belt.“What happened?” Jisoo, a congenial caretaker he esteems enough, asks him in a whisper. She kneels before him, shooing the guard and her co-worker away with a hand gesture. There is huge medical hanging from her shoulder. “You’re not the type to lash out, sweetie. What made you send the green code? What’s going on?”Bless their caretakers for trusting them more than they trust their own kin. Taehyung is infinitely thankful for their understanding.Jisoo rummages through the big, squared bag, and fishes a pocket-sized bottle of pills. She uncaps it carefully. Benzodiazepines, his best friends.“That boy over there was getting difficult—”“He’s a menace!” Jiwon exclaims, hysterical, afraid, over the voices overlapping to attest what they have witnessed. The guards are failing miserably at keeping them calm. “He went berserk and jumped at my uncle out of nowhere, the fucking monster!”The peed-on man explodes with a plethora of creative and rather graphic insults. Taehyung rolls his eyes. Out of nowhere my ass.“Sir—” Chaeyoung, Jisoo’s co-worker, tries to talk to them, but they will not let her speak. “Please, listen—”Jisoo puckers her lips and peers at him, dropping half of one pill on his palm. Taehyung’s ears lay flat over his crown.“They got me all edgy, Jisoo. The kid was turning his back on me and screaming, and then everyone got too distraught, and—” Taehyung scowls. “The guy with spoiled pants tried to kick me as if I were a fucking dog—”“—you should put those monsters to sleep for once. They’re dangerous!”Jisoo’s winsome face hardens at the same time Taehyung’s blank visage distends his frown. He is positively furious.“Taehyung, please, don’t give them the satisfaction of upsetting you,” she mumbles. “Focus on me, okay? I’m here. Take the pill, it’ll be better then.”He meets Jimin’s gaze as he throws his head back to dryly swallow the medicine. Jisoo pats his thigh, reassuring, supportive. Taehyung suddenly pities Jimin. If he has to deal with this drama often—well, Taehyung highly admires he has not lost sanity.Forty-five minutes were enough for him.“Enough!” The old lady overpowers the ruckus with her shout. It reminds him of Namjoon’s roar. “I deem so pathetic and disgraceful your collective ineptitude to conduct yourselves and exercise more decorum than this. Haven’t you been paying attention? Taehyung reiterated the behavior instructions plenty of times beforehand.”She points to a guide-board by the doorway, where a concise version of the rules has been highlighted in a cartoon dialogue cloud over a kitten drawing.“See that? 'No running. Be silent. Stay behind your guide. Ailuranthropes are very sensitive to noise and touching, so beware any violent action can upset them'. We accepted every condition when first stepping inside the park, you fools!”“Halmeoni, that guy—”“Silent!” She hollers. “I didn’t wish for any of you to come with us. I was right to be wary of you, you bunch of vultures.”Chaeyoung and the guard seem at loss of words as the grandmother hotly lectures the agglomeration of increasingly unsatisfied people. Taehyung mentally applauds her. He does not understand most of the things the old lady is hustling out, too many names and accusations thrown in the midst of her angry fit, but gets a grasp of the basic picture: she is ill, the prognosis is not promising, and the family wants to dispute her will. Vultures indeed.She had been planning on embarking on this trip to Smilodon with Jimin exclusively—Taehyung arches his eyebrows at that unforeseen piece of information, more so because Jimin keeps his eyes transfixed on his shoes and is blushing rather evidently—, and then they all had requested to tag along.“Taehyung, what the hell did you get yourself into?” Jisoo asks, baffled. He feels dizzy.“I…” He pouts. “It was supposed to be just another day. I even got a group of cute kids in the morning.”“I’m not changing my decision. Jimin’s going to be my only heir,” the lady states with incontrovertible finality. Jimin shrinks under the riot that follows, the enraged mob revolting and hurling pejorative terms at him. For a second, Taehyung fears they are vehement enough to undertake beating the young lad to pulp.“Halmeoni, he’s a fucking pest—”“That’s an unfair decision! What has he done for you, Eomoni?”“He’s a useless scumbag. He’s going to waste your legacy!”“He’s not even a free thing—”Taehyung crouches instinctively again, tail coiling up to balance a possible leap. He cannot take his eyes off Jimin. Beautiful, beautiful Jimin who does not deserve any of this.Jisoo blinks in surprise as she studies his stance.“Taehyung?” She waits for his attention, for his permission, to fondle with the tip of his soft ears, just the way he enjoys it, as she mumbles. “It’s okay. You’re okay. Calm down. Is the pill not working yet?”He ignores Jisoo to listen to the old lady.“If you can’t respect my judgment, you have no business here.”“You’re serious about that boy, mother?” The bastard who nearly booted him poses the sharp question. A deafening mutism befalls as mother and son exchange a bellicose look. His face contorts with utter disgust at last. “You’ll die and rot alone just because of that—that whore? He’s not human. He’s got no rights, no way to properly claim your legacy. You’re just burdening his existence because he won’t ever amount to anything.”Jimin advances. He rests his hands on the lady’s shoulders, a moderate display of solace. She looks extremely miserable. Beautiful Jimin does, too. Taehyung is rendered wordless. His blood boils. The nerve of this people—A woman with an angry baby steps up. “Mama, you’re obviously not in your right mind. You’re just lonely, since appa died, you’ve been—”“Get out of my sight, all of you! Just go somewhere else,” she pleas. When nobody moves, she screams bloody murder and shrieks. “Now!”They storm out of the hall like a swarm of wasps, targeting goodhearted Chaeyoung and the security guards as their rage outlets. Chaeyoung looks ready to quit her job, trying to tell them about the other attractions they could visit through gritted teeth, apologizing for the inconveniences even when it is obvious who has overstepped the line this time.Taehyung sighs tiredly once they are gone. He relaxes under Jisoo’s ministrations, his fast metabolism processing the drug efficiently, leaving him in a nice stupor. Silence falls over the vacant hall. He takes a few seconds before observing the unhappy pair left behind. Patient, reserved Jimin has taken the old lady’s bony hands in his small ones. She sports a splotchy face and looks strangely tattered, and her fragrance has a jarring undertone of toxicity, as if her bloodstream were polluted. It is putrid and Taehyung dislikes it. It does not go with her.Jimin soothes her turmoil, mimicking breathing in and out, an encouraging smile growing wider per second. Taehyung stands straight at the sight of the full-developed product, stunned. Jimin’s eyes crinkle behind round cheeks, transforming into half-moons, and it is so endearing.He looks so joyful like that. He wants to approach them.Taehyung receives a smack on his nape and a glare from Jisoo to stay put.“I apologize on behalf of my family. Their behavior was unacceptable,” the old lady cringes when pronouncing family. Taehyung imitates her thoughtlessly, just as displeased by the guests, much to his caretaker’s disapproval.Jisoo pinches his lower waist and motions at the couple with her head.“You too”, she mouths. Taehyung huffs. “Apologize. Now.”He begrudgingly bows to them.“I apologize for not practicing self-restraint, ma’am. Please, don’t censure the park for my slip. I didn’t mean to harm anyone,” he meets Jimin’s attentive eyes—the lessens have moved and now the lovely blue is more noticeable, Taehyung thinks—and dips his head deeper. “I’m sorry for tackling you.”Jimin does not reply verbally. He taps Taehyung’s chin with a light fingertip, the touch so feathery he would have deemed as inexistent if the tiny hand had not occupied his vision for a fleeting moment, and when the tiger lifts his gaze, the other presents reassuring thumbs up.“But—”Jimin waves his palms in a dismissive manner and presents Taehyung a bewitching smile. He is breathtaking.Taehyung is in love. “It’s settled, then,” the old lady sounds exhausted. Taehyung’s heartstrings are pulled stringently. “I paid for a museum tour, so please continue with your job, darling. I’m sorry about this drawback.”Jisoo and Taehyung wince in unison. His mouth is too parched to utter an apology, so the caretaker takes the lead. “I’m sorry, ma’am, but protocol entails Taehyung needs to leave. He’ll visit the infirmary for an immediate check-up.”Jimin jerks his head up, eyebrows knitted together. “I’ll be fine”, Taehyung’s tongue is lethargic, so he does not sound as firm as he would have liked. Jimin is looking grim, sick-worried, and Taehyung melts a bit. “It’s just standard. They won’t shot me or anything—”Jisoo elbows him sharply. She gives their visitors a brilliant grin, but Taehyung senses the warning between lines.“If you follow me to the lobby, I’ll make sure you’re assigned another tour guide right away. I’m sure you won’t have to wait much longer—the next group must be beginning soon.”The old lady sets her gaze on him. “I’m thankful for your service, Taehyung. I’m truly sorry for all the trouble.”Taehyung does not know what compels to promise what he says next, but it may have something to do with Jimin’s disquiet expression. “I’ll see you both at the last show. Tonight. I gave you my word about the backstage visit, so I won’t miss it.”He pauses.“Just don’t take your family there.”The blooming eye-smile Jimin tries to hide behind his hand is totally worth it. Maybe is the calming pill and its side-effects, but Taehyung has to swallow and subtly wipe the corner of his mouth because drool pooling inside was about to dribble out.The confusion that possesses Jisoo’s features is priceless, too. “Wait, you have the hots for a human?” Jeongguk repeats, decibels shy from shouting and being heard across the continent, conveniently filtering the wretched tone and other relevant details of Taehyung’s emotional pouring over the extra-sugary caramel macchiato he is not supposed to have. Sugar, milk, and caffeine are very bad for them. “A human that’s somehow faster than you, a full-fledged tiger ailuranthrope.”“I was—off!” Taehyung’s nostrils flare. His tail keeps swishing in irritation, hitting pitapat the legs of the wooden stool where he is perched. “Guks—”“Even domestic cats are faster than humans.”“I know! I just—”“Excuse me?”A mustachioed man attired in a safari hat and a vest with too many pockets taps the shiny counter to claim their attention. He is clever and heedful, staying away from their intentionally secluded corner. Jeongguk’s soft ears curl over as his doe eyes broaden, unforgiving fingers clutching Taehyung’s wrist, nails growing tips of claws. He friskily nods at the customer and Taehyung remembers the old lady calling him a poor thing.“Extra napkins?” The man asks with an expressive hand gesture. His accent is thick and has a flashy ring to it.Jeongguk flinches.It is a marvel Jeongguk has lasted long working at the frequented coffee shop, considering his human skills are barely above the decent mark. Then again, the modest shop is Seokjin’s pride and joy, and even though the eldest of the group is unreliable when problems exhort conventional tact and finesse, he is the carefree hyung everyone seeks out. He definitely has everyone’s backs and looks after them in his own way, especially when it comes to Jeongguk.Seokjin denies it and will probably take the confession to his grave, but he secretly dotes on Jeongguk as if he were his own flesh. Their regular bickering works like a front for outsiders, particularly because Seokjin does not appreciate strangers getting even a glimpse of his weak spots. In a world like theirs, understandably, that could be fatal.Even so, he insists on spoiling the younger silently, by any means possible. Like always stationing him in the background of the coffee shop, wherefrom Jeongguk stands out as the favorite barista with unimpaired cream art.Today, however, Jeongguk’s co-worker has called in sick for her heat and the short personnel situation has forced Jeongguk to assume both cashier and waiter duties.“Uh—” Jeongguk lowers himself to search under the counter, glances back at the wine glasses drying upside-down behind the bar, and scratches his head in thought. “Uh. A moment.”Taehyung takes mercy and signals a spot over his shoulder, right at the end of the bar. The man takes a look around and his eyes brighten upon finding what he has been searching for. He smells musky, not terrible or anything, and he is pleasant enough to slant his hat in a gentlemanly greeting.“Thank you,” he hesitates before fishing his phone from one of his multiple pockets. “Picture?”Taehyung smiles with his fangs out for the selca, adding a v pose to reduce the predacious vibe.When he reverts to their conversation, Taehyung comes across wiggly eyebrows and a shit-eating grin invading Jeongguk’s baby face. He is ruffled by his tacit patronizing.“Shut up”, he barks, sipping his beverage. His friend cackles up and his long, long tail swags behind him. “I haven’t said anything yet!” He hiccups, as he does when he is overexcited. “But, you know, we can’t keep secrets from the leap.”Jeongguk typically strikes as the textbook definition of snow leopard: a shy, elusive cat of solitary tendencies, seemingly cuddlesome with his fuzzy, ridiculously lengthy tail and puffy, yellowish fur. His profound honeyed eyes also mislead first-timers with the pure and tender quality they carry within. They are like pools of galaxies, so wonderful and mesmerizing.In reality, Jeongguk has quite the dormant temper and a snappy vein. He has grown well, but there are scars that are impossible to forget, and that tend to open in the worst situations. He is the size of a small lioness in his other form, a felicitous occurrence, considering his competitive spirit is insatiable and he would not stand a chance against Seokjin, Namjoon or him—three fine, grown individuals from the biggest feline families—with the average height and weight range of snow leopards.Taehyung’s amber eyes narrow when they detect Jeongguk’s mischief spreading over his expression.“Guks, don’t you dare—”“Hyung!” The younger bellows and Taehyung smashes his forehead against the squeaky-clean counter. “Jin-hyung!”He can feel commensals staring at them, their eyes burning holes in his neck. After living in the park for over a decade, being a focal point for every observer has become quite the small price to pay for their otherwise peaceful lifestyle. Taehyung knows there are worst destinies out there.Jeongguk’s distinctive scent has thickened deliciously, a proportional synonym of his glee. The blend of spearmint, licorice and a tinge of fresh marigolds dizzies Taehyung enough to pretend he is in a faraway den.“Seokjin-hyung!” He repeats and the fantasy shatters.Seokjin’s blondish, silky crown pops out of the kitchen door-frame first. He is an ailuranthrope who is regal both in his humanoid anatomy and as a white lion. Rosy, pouty lips, almond-shaped eyes and soft-looking features make Seokjin artlessly beautiful. If Jimin is a new classic, Seokjin is the timeless, rule-setting classic. He zeroes Taehyung in and distorts his gorgeous symmetry with a side-splitting, funny smile. He struts out, shoulders robust like a board, lean frame striding on seemingly endless legs. Jeongguk is radiating such euphoria that Taehyung is glad his dilemma has at least served to amuse someone.Seokjin settles by Jeongguk’s side with a questioning look. “Why are you yelling now, brat?”He sports the mating mark over his protruding collarbones proudly, which fuels his unreachable charm. Taehyung truly adores how Namjoon and Seokjin complement each other, since Namjoon is a rare, not-far-from-extinct specimen of black lion. “Hyung, you gotta hear this”, Jeongguk smirks and Seokjin slaps him in the butt with a rag first, for fooling around during work hours and speaking informally to him, he says, before yielding in. He is a sucker for gossip. “TaeTae likes a human—as in, will taste a piece of human ass willingly like."Taehyung bemoans as Seokjin’s jaw unhinges uglily. He snatches his beret and pitches it at the snow leopard’s face, who easily catches it with an insolent, lopsided smile.“Jeongguk, I didn’t say that! And why won’t you call me hyung?”“So, you’re telling me you wouldn’t bag—what was his name again?”“Don’t be disgusting. Jimin’s not some object. He deserves mo—”Taehyung bites his tongue when Jeongguk whistles in appreciation. Seokjin looks curious.“A human, Taehyung? Seriously?” He sneers, but there is no trace of real malice. They all love mocking each other. “Didn’t Joon teach you not to play with your food, hm?”His shoulders begin shaking with laughter. Jeongguk laughs along.“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that”, the tiger deadpans. “That’s not even the best part”, Jeongguk looks as if he is having a field day. Seokjin eyes the coffee shop, the clientele’s lively chattering drowning their exchange before he is motioning for Jeongguk to continue. “The human beat him at running.”Seokjin reels back, almost tumbling down with the snow leopard in tow.“He what?”Jeongguk proceeds to eagerly retell what has transpired during Taehyung’s interrupted shift. Meanwhile, he questions his life choices, especially the moment he decided to escape to the coffee shop instead of going back home and taking a nap, as suggested by Jisoo.“Taehyung, how—”“Ah”, Taehyung tosses his dignity aside and whines. “Hyung, not you, too!”“You lost to a human?” He hisses the last word. Patrons around are humans, too.The white lion trespasses his personal space and the tiger has to crisscross his eyes to keep looking at him.“Are you that whipped already?” And Seokjin begins sniffing the patches of skin covering Taehyung’s scent glands: over his lips, his chin, at each side of his head. He even yanks his wrists forward to check his hands. “You don’t smell sick. Humiliated, with traces of odd human scents, but overall good. I’m surprised you’re not horny, by the way.”He groans, flustered. “It’s not like that.”“Taehyung, you do understand it’s improbable for a human to outrun you, don’t you? Unless you’ve given them a decent head start, there’s a good path to run on and you’ve reached your limit of sixty-five km per hour on short distances, it’s technically impossible. The odds alone will smother them”, Seokjin blabbers when he is neck-deep in incredulity; he also washes kitchen cutlery that is already sparkly and spotless, much to Jeongguk’s chagrin. “So, do tell me, what am I supposed to conclude? Because I refuse to believe you’re slower than a human. Turtles are slower than humans, no tigers.”“Wait until Hobi-hyung learns about this”, Jeongguk jests mirthfully. “He’ll have a meltdown, consider filing a formal petition to be transferred to another coalition and then he’ll make you train, you know? More so because the fall games are just around the corner, and we can’t lose to Wonho’s coalition.”As an Asiatic cheetah, Hoseok acknowledges speed as a measure of value. He is easily the fastest male ailuranthrope in the complex. He will most likely have a hard time stomaching that his beloved coalition, who has won many recognitions competing in relays, has a member whose speed has been surpassed by a human’s.Maybe if he saw Jimin, he would understand.Taehyung blanches. “Hobi-hyung’s going to flip.”A table with three human women asks for their check, and Seokjin ushers Jeongguk to take care of them. The snow leopard splutters, and a salmon color paints his cheeks as he slides out of the bar with unsteady breaths and a comically tottering stride.Taehyung’s revengeful smugness is short-lived, though, for Seokjin is snatching his half-empty coffee and clearing his throat once Jeongguk is away.“All jokes aside”, he says in a more serious, quiet tone. “Are you okay? You aren’t one to get complaints from humans.”“Yeah—it was just a weird morning”, Taehyung sags. “My last group was insufferable enough that I had to get a psychological evaluation at the infirmary. Teenagers who thought they’re invincible ran ahead and paraded their exposed napes. I tried being nice, hyung, but they just—ugh. They broke all rules.”“Damn. That kind of warrants of a good bite”, Seokjin pets Taehyung’s head and the tiger’s tail springs to life, curving at the affectionate gesture. “Sorry to hear that, Tae. I’m sure your evening will be better.”Taehyung thinks of Jimin’s lovely smile and inwardly agrees. Which reminds him of his promise.“Hey, hyung, is Namjoon-hyung watching Hobi’s performance tonight?”“I think so. If he’s not too busy with unresolved paperwork, he should. Why?”“Well…”The chirpy bell over the entryway interrupts him. They simultaneously swerve to assess the newcomers, knee-jerking territoriality at the forefront of their thoughts. And while Seokjin’s alertness ebbs away and he restores his serene demeanor seconds later, Taehyung’s transparent scent betrays an outflow of emotions when he identifies them. Delight and uneasiness overspread. The old lady and Jimin take cautious steps in, arms occupied with paper bags from the artisanal market. Both inspect the cozy, well-illuminated interior of the coffeehouse before their gazes come down on Taehyung. He sucks a hasty, clumsy intake of oxygen, and almost chokes. Jimin does not even blink when he looks aside, unwavering eyes scrutinizing Seokjin. Different from her companion, the old lady diligently waves at him and coils a finger for Jimin to trail her.Seokjin winks at his coalition-mate. Alarms resonate through Taehyung’s head.“For your own good, I hope you’re all whipped for the cute male or else I am kicking you out of the coalition,” Taehyung’s mouth reopens to refute, but Seokjin silences him with a knowing look. “Second in command’s privileges. Don’t think about lying to me because I can read you.”“You’re a tyrant.”“Hey, I can say things to make you look absolutely lovable. Don’t jinx it.”Taehyung does pause to consider it. He glances at Jimin whispering something to the old lady. “But he is cute, isn’t he?”“He’s gotten a pretty face, yes,” Seokjin admits. “Not like mine, but I can see the appeal.”Jeongguk has also put two and two together because he returns exceptionally quick, planting himself next to their alpha’s mate with a menacing smile. Seokjin’s tail collides against his as they pretend—and fail—to be unflappable about meeting whoever has battered Taehyung’s ego. Taehyung can only imagine how disastrous would have been adding Hoseok to the picture, so he counts his blessings.“You two are the worst”, he sulks.“Hush, you cub—”“Good afternoon, gentlemen,” the old lady greets.She regards the two ailuranthropes with a courteous smile, and though Jeongguk looks constipated at first, his implacable curiosity compels him to bear with it. Having Seokjin close evidently anchors him. He is smiling, demure but brave enough, transforming into the epitome of a sweetheart without even knowing. Taehyung is half-tempted to advise Jimin and his companion to not get fooled by the snow-leopard’s undeliberate ruse. He is not as harmless as he appears to be. The old lady nods in approval when they reciprocate her politeness with equal agreeability.She turns to him. “How are you feeling, darling? I surely wasn’t expecting to find you here. We were so worried you were going to be punished. We know you didn’t mean to attack Jimin-”Taehyung does not need to see it to flinch, for he knows the kind of bewilderment overthrowing his friends’ untroubled visages. He might have forgotten to mention the part where the human ended under him after the entire running-faster-than-a-tiger fiasco.He is not getting alive out of their teasing.“I’m doing fine, thank you, ma’am,” his nervous tail moves from side to side. “I got my vitals checked, had to respond some questions, and received a lollipop for the scare. It wasn’t too terrible.”“And even if he were to be punished,” the white lion joins, impish, risky, with every clear intention to press, and Taehyung tenses up; “believe us, he would probably enjoy it. Our Taehyungie’s deviant like that.”Taehyung feels malcontent.“No, I’m not-”“Oh,” the lady fans herself with her hand, entertained, and Taehyung feels so utterly done. “Well, I’m happy to hear you’re doing okay.”Jimin is trying hard to stifle his amused chuckles, winsome and so huggable, and the tiger clings to that comforting beacon amidst the ocean of madness. At least he seems to be doing well, enjoying their trip in spite of the early setback. Jisoo has assured him that Jimin was offered medical care, so his body would not suffer severe repercussions from Taehyung’s onset.The tiger peeks at him.“The hit—” He sighs regretfully as Jimin follows his voice and turns. “It couldn’t have been easy on you, either. I’m very sorry about that. I hope you’re okay?”Jimin showcases a row of pearly teeth and joins his index and thumb for an okay. Taehyung is enrapt.Jimin is beautiful, beautiful like no one else before, so beautiful and breathtaking. Taehyung’s whole abdomen clenches and burns, and every defensive wall he has ever put on has been replaced by a supple shell that easily melts the more he exposes himself to Jimin’s radiant presence.It is strange to feel so submissive for a human. “What would you like to have, ma’am, gentleman?” Seokjin gestures to their menu and displays his captivating smile. “It’s on the house. Taehyung’s faults are ours by association.”“It wasn’t really my fault—”“Jimin here got hurt defending someone, Taehyung, so I think he merits a treat,” Seokjin tuts. His wild eyes scream do I have to spell this shit for you, but still, Taehyung does not grasp the indirect message. His brain is too jittery for that.Jimin bats his eyelashes and grants him a smile. A blissful upsurge of warmth has him tongue-tied.“Don’t you—” Jeongguk cracks, but forces himself to finish, “think that was brave? Like, opposing you? Hobi-hyung gives you a wide-berth whenever you’re out of control. You can be scary.”Taehyung does not read the tone quickly enough.“That doesn’t happen often! And, well, of course, I think it was the bravest thing ever, but—”Jeongguk stares stoically. Seokjin taps the counter impatiently. Even the old lady seems to be waiting for something.It clicks. Taehyung mentally face-palms.He beams at Jimin. “I mean—no buts. You were very brave back then. Really, not everyone has the guts to intercept an ailuranthrope. Order whatever you want—you really deserve it.”Taehyung notes the automatic shifts on Jimin’s expression as he says so. He seems to grow happier with compliments, his features lightening up, and so he stashes the knowledge for future reference.“I’m so embarrassed about being your leap-mate right now,” Jeongguk suddenly says.“Same here”, Seokjin agrees.The lady muffles a laugh. “Such sweet boys.”Upon hearing the term leap-mate, Jimin’s opaque eyes zigzag from Seokjin to Jeongguk, then back to Taehyung, mouth barely parting with a soundless, curious how. Taehyung knows, knows that it is not often to see a group of felines that belong to different families with enough affinities to stick together, but they make it work somehow.The tiger smiles shamelessly at him, unbothered when he is discovered transfixed on Jimin. The other seems surprised but does not quail, rewarding Taehyung with a scanty but genuine quirk of his plush lips. Taehyung basks in the gratifying sensation of having Jimin’s attention on him.The lady voices Jimin’s unsaid doubt.“Are you part of the same pride?”“Streak or coalition”, Seokjin corrects gently. “A pride is mostly for breeders, especially lionesses.”“Or leap”, Jeongguk mutters under his breath. “We can also be called leap, hyung.”“That’s for regular leopards and you’re anything but regular”, the eldest quips and though he is sort-of invalidating Jeongguk’s suggestion, he is providing the best compliment in return. Jeongguk’s tail moves up in happiness.“Now you’re saying cheesy stuff to sidetrack me.”“Yah, are you calling me a liar?”“TaeTae”, Jeongguk has his pleading eyes on. “Back me up here.”Taehyung is busy thinking that it is nice neither the lady nor Jimin look troubled by the sudden detours their conversation has. Some of their caretakers are always reprimanding them because they cannot focus on a sole topic for long.Jeongguk grunts, a hushed, gruff call for Taehyung’s attention.“What is it?”“We’re also a leap, aren’t we?”“Ah, no, you’re on your own until you learn to call me hyung.”“Fine,” Taehyung sits a little straighter in anticipation. Jeongguk’s eyes are glimmering like diamonds. “Coalition it is.”Taehyung’s jaw slackens in mock surprise. Seokjin whoops, needlessly boisterous and goofy, before high-fiving their maknae, who seems just as playfully delighted. Happy felines that like to fool around.Seokjin goes back to wrap the topic. “In case you’re wondering, yes, it’s kind of unprecedented having individuals from different species in a group. That’s why even officers couldn’t name us accordingly. Our alpha is a lion, so naturally, we should be a coalition, but these rascals have called a tie—”“Namjoon-hyung can’t vote. He’s too biased, too influenced by you,” Jeongguk reproaches. “We all deserve a fair shoot.”“What about Hobi? He was on my side.”“I like the sound of streak more than coalition,” Taehyung chirps in. “Streak sounds badass.”“It does”, the old lady says indulgently. Taehyung’s tail begins swinging, a coherent display of his content mood, and accidentally brushes Jimin’s strong thigh.He would not like to appear indecorous somehow—he was once accused of harassment for accidentally brushing his tail against a very prudish, very touchy lady—, so he prepares an apology. Except that Jimin is distracted, chasing the lazy movements of his tail with hawk-eyes, rather absorbed in studying the dance of his stripes that, even though they are immobile, seem sinuous. Taehyung intentionally plays with the appendage then, back and forth, side to side, until Jimin realizes he is being teased.They share identically smiles. Now it is Taehyung’s turn to feel hypnotized.
Beautiful, ethereal human.
“—Yes! It’s like banging from one end to another because we can’t just be all satisfied,” Taehyung is snapped back by Seokjin’s snort. He notices the old lady has moved closer to his hyung to chat more comfortably with him. “But good news: you get free drinks for befriending one of the nameless group’s misfits. So, what can we get you?”The old lady smiles a serene grin, and Jimin softens as he catches sight of it, warmhearted in the way humans look at their old people, with tender love.Taehyung sighs wistfully.
So, so beautiful.
“I’ll be having a Masala tea and Jimin…” The man gestures with his hands and she browses through the board, rechecking the options in Jeongguk’s neat calligraphy before saying, “and a strawberry soda for him, please.”“Coming right up.”“Would you like to have a seat, ma’am?” Taehyung remembers his manners and tries moving to the closest stool, but she refuses.“No, darling, don’t bother—”The bell by the door rings again and the scent that wafts inside has the three ailuranthropes jolting in excitement. Their alpha’s powerful signature is as unique and striking as him. Namjoon secretes a syrupy taste, similar to an herbal liqueur, with tinges of ginger, ginseng, and citric fruits. To them, it represents courage, willpower, and leadership. It is what singles their alpha out.“Namjoon-hyung!”Jeongguk is vibrating, peeping over the coffee machine while fidgeting with the ingredients for the old lady’s Masala tea. Taehyung belatedly realizes he is hyped-up about sharing his misery. Figures.“Hyung, we have something pretty cool to tell you!”Namjoon has stopped under the doorway, holding onto his bag securely. He flashes a dimpled-smile their way, but does not immediately waltz inside. He sweeps a critical gaze over the enclosed perimeter, taking a moment to adjust his susceptible nose to the overwhelming wave of body odors. It is a process that tends to strike harder against their leader: naturally protective, he has to familiarize himself with the different people present in the small patch of territory that technically belongs to their coalition-streak-leap.“Stop divulging that story, Guks—” Taehyung takes his beret and tosses it again at Jeongguk’s head. It gets easily dodged.“Yah, stop jumping around—you’re making a mess with that cinnamon, Jeongguk”, Seokjin scolds him before pointing at Taehyung. “And no rough playing here.”“His black locks shine like obsidian,” the lady comments, looking fixedly at Namjoon. “Contrasts well with his suit. Right, Jimin?”The other nods in awe.Taehyung twists his lips thoughtfully. “Our leader’s quite stunning in his human for, isn’t he?” He boasts with a grin blossoming. “I miss seeing him in casual attires, though. He has this job up in the administrative tower that sticks to a strict dress code. He’s like an ambassador for us in the park, you know."She blinks repeatedly. Jimin’s full lips shape an oh. Taehyung likes his astonished expression.“What is his name again?”“Namjoon.”Namjoon finishes his brief scouting, looking calm and satisfied—he is extraordinarily deft when it comes to analyzing and understanding humans. He walks in, and hardly surprises them when he clumsily thrusts his hipbone against a pointed booth for not calculating his trajectory. He scares one of the customers, enough to make her splash coffee over her lap.He frets over her until she is pleading him to leave. On the counter, Jeongguk is cackling soundlessly as Seokjin admires his mate with a mix of fondness and exasperation, deciding if it would create more damage to intervene. At the end, he does move to retrieve his mate.“The scars on their necks—” The old lady wonders.“Claiming bites,” Taehyung confirms. “Not that common.”When they stroll back, Seokjin just rolls his eyes.“The regular, Joon?”“Yes, thank you—”Namjoon’s lofty physique almost stumbles as he endeavors avoiding the collection of bags Jimin has deposited over the floor. He loses his footing when Jimin kneels to help, and Taehyung has not enough time to twirl around as Namjoon suddenly collapsing on him, brutally knocking the air of the tiger with half of his abdomen crashing against the edge of the bar.“Shit, Tae, are you okay?” Namjoon instantly fires.He wheezes out an unintelligible yes. He curls a shaky arm around his midsection, tearful glare set on nothing in particular as the pain ripples through his body. He brushes his fingers around the sore area and bristles. It must be a bruised rib.Seokjin is putting down Jimin’s soda at the same time Jimin blurts, “Taehyung—” and the world stops.His voice has a soft-spoken and angelic trill, yet the discreet, reverberating, throaty cadence within is what stands out the most for them, for him.Jimin’s eccentricity makes sense now, the motive behind his selective mutism.The male comprehends what he has done, and how he has put himself under the loupe of exposure, and clamps a clammy palm against his mouth, widening his droopy eyes.Taehyung’s brain overworks to the point its circuits overload and electricity has his limbs shuddering. What a twist of events. He cannot believe what has been thrown at him. He cannot believe that he has missed it. They have been on the same wavelength and Taehyung has failed to notice all the evident signs.
Whipped? More like goddamned blind!
Jimin is a wild ailuranthrope. His mind keeps the thought on a loop. Jimin has more heightened senses than humans, like them, his auditory range and olfaction honed by evolution, just like theirs. He is one of them. And he has most likely been smelling Taehyung’s desirous scent all along. Shit.“I knew you wouldn’t resist not talking the entire day,” the old lady is giggling and suddenly Taehyung holds a silly grudge against her for withholding such titanic truth. “I’m always right, Jimin-ah.”However, Jimin is too preoccupied sizing them up.The tiger shapeshifter hops off the stool. He moves to increase the gap between Jimin and Namjoon, a painstaking prudence demarcating his movements. The ambiance is chilly. His tail is flagellating thin air. Taehyung’s nerves are all high-strung and buzzing.Seokjin and Jeongguk are overcome by bewilderment, and though they may appear inoffensive to human customers, Taehyung catches the way their muscles begin tensing. They are halfway adopting offensive positions—slightly hunched backs, taut lips, lowered tails and spasming fingers that paws will supplant if given a reason to.It makes Taehyung aware of the weight of their leeriness. They could hurt Jimin. They will, if provoked.The impasse seems to chafe Namjoon, who is very fastidious when it comes to figuring enigmas, and finds incomplete puzzles a whole new level of annoying.Taehyung considers it all. There is a foreign presence, an intruder, who has advanced so far past the adjacent landmarks of the coffee shop without them suspecting a thing. This is not neutral territory: ailuranthropes that wish to access require either Seokjin’s or Namjoon’s permission, and Jimin—poor, beautiful Jimin—has neither.Jimin’s odd stench is now discordant. It does not match the coalition markings. It does not match anything.Even so, Taehyung does not feel aggression or enmity. Namjoon does not struggle in Taehyung’s grip when he steers him away, but his confusion is giving room to vexation. Taehyung has no time to dodge when their alpha dives in and bites his shoulder to show he is not happy with Taehyung’s meddling. It stings, even when the incision is not deep, and he backs away.Jimin is harmless. His streak needs to know. Taehyung just does not know how to prove it.“Hyung…”“No,” Namjoon growls, flippant, all alpha-mode. “Move.”Taehyung huffs back, but goes into submission swiftly. He cannot hinder it. He should not. Their alpha has identified a shapeshifter by the vocal cords made to call a fellow Panthera during mating seasons, but he is unable to separate his innate scent from the mist of medicines sticking to his skin like some ghastly veil. He cannot tell if he is a foe, or if comes with no pretension of threatening Namjoon’s position or their coalition’s welfare. Such tricky combination is no good.Jimin has backed away and has taken his contacts off as a white flag. Blue is vivid with emotions, with honesty. It rouses Taehyung from his shock.He ducks and scuttles around Namjoon. He should not, yet he stands before Jimin. He shows his back to Jimin.“Hyung, please.”As anxious as Namjoon is, he has enough sensitivity to pause over Taehyung’s protective disposition and respect it. They know Taehyung is not rebellious, that he does not wish to topple Namjoon. He would not ever mindlessly defy his friend, his brother, his streak-mate. He just wants Jimin safe.He does not dare to question why.“Maybe we should get those drinks to go,” Jimin mumbles. He does not sound unsure, precautious at best. He is not scared, has inched closer to him, and Taehyung is now officially enamored because Jimin trusts him, in a very subconscious level. “We don’t want problems.”“We don’t, either,” Namjoon barely relaxes. He deliberates a better compromise, noting how patrons are turning to glimpse at them, and says, “maybe you should wait outside. The human can stay if she wishes to have anything else.”Taehyung meets Jimin’s enchanting gaze. The other traps him there, in a speechless and solicitous condition he cannot begin describing. It is so intense. It feels like eternity.And then, after showing Taehyung a last small but so entrancing simper, he complies and exits. He is confident enough to parade his back, as if he swore Taehyung would protect him.He would. He is sure he would tackle Namjoon down for him.
What is even happening—
Customers feign they have not been pretty much enjoying the spectacle. Taehyung is panting.“Maybe you have a chance now,” Jeongguk says to break the icy silence. Seokjin shakes his head, and fetches transportable cups to pour the old lady’s drink.Namjoon is unsettled. His tail is twitchy.“What do you mean, Guk-ah?”The old lady, who is suspiciously calm, chuckles tenderly.Taehyung wants to apologize to her, but he is mistrustful. His knees are still shaking. His voice cannot be too reliable right now.“He’s way out of Tae’s league,” Seokjin declares, following Jeongguk’s bait. “A human’s have accepted it for the raunchy thrill of being with a werecat or whatever, but now—”Taehyung cannot fucking believe it. Jimin’s—whatever the old lady is to Jimin—is standing right there and they just keep spouting nonsense.“I’m leaving this streak.”“Coalition—”“Leap—”“Guys,” Namjoon sounds indignant. He is still watching Jimin through the glass. “Guys, what was that about? Who is him?”“Jimin,” the old lady answers, as if it were enough information to appease Namjoon. He looks at her. “Well, now that you’ve chased my boy out, I’d like to have a word with you. Namjoon-ssi, it is?” Their den is a cozy lodge in the outskirts of the savanna, where the terrain begins veering upward, a montane landscape peeps less than a mile away, and the density of trees grows exponentially. The doorway has been embellished with their scratching marks, and the grassy ground around the porch reeks of their signatures combined. The couple of windows adjoining the doorway have their sills decorated with weirdly shaped flowerpots, tragic aftermaths of a pottery workshop they had tried together months back and that Seokjin has adamantly refused to throw away.The living room interior is mostly wooden, with a rustic fireplace where picture frames have been arranged, and with scattered pieces of furniture selected by each member. Even though they have done most of the choosing process individually, randomly, the set they have put together miraculously matches. The eclectic agglomeration goes strangely well together, from Taehyung’s beloved classy fireside armchair that he often stocks with soft lap robes and Hoseok’s velvet tub chair, to Jeongguk’s pink oriental rug that is not pink—though Seokjin differs—, and Seokjin’s hybrid thing, something between a coffee table and an ottoman with storage. There is even a cluster of unique handmade cushions their alpha bought from an Indian man that was sheltered temporarily in Smilodon so the man could book a trip back to his homeland. Namjoon celebrated their budding bond once the living room faithfully reflected a home.The portable AC in the room (a luxury turned necessity since Jeongguk gets suffocated very easily) rumbles a little too loud that night. Or maybe they are unusually quiet, unlike every other evening, full of noisy banter, jokes and long talks about their day.“Uh—” Seokjin and Taehyung exhale in unison.“A what?”Namjoon’s socked toe nudges the open file over the coffee table. Pages with crossed out paragraphs and a headshot of Jimin with his black-tipped ears uncovered mock them wordlessly. No one bothers to retrieve the strange folder, watching it from afar as if it were to catch fire and reduce their entire house to ashes. Taehyung is dying to snitch Jimin’s photo, though. He is a bit worshipful, secretly full of admiration. Jimin’s ears are as lovely as their owner.“A Maltese tiger,” Namjoon nurses a glass of water. How he manages to remain so immutable when his coalition is borderline frantic is beyond them. “Turns out, they do exist.”“You sound as if we were talking about the hen that laid gold eggs, Joon.”“Might as well start believing in that, too.”“What!”Jeongguk scrunches his nose. “What is this about, hyung?”Taehyung ransacks his brain for characteristics of the aforementioned subspecies. Granted, he is not a well-versed biologist, but he is familiar with the basics of the Panthera Tigris family, as any human taught about anatomy and evolution, and he is certain he has never heard of Maltese tigers. Not even in fairy tales.“Are they, like...”, he chooses his words carefully, “like, another subfamily? Or a regular variation, like white tigers?”“She didn’t say. For all we know, he could be the product of a successful experiment,” Namjoon gently mentions, pursing his lips with a thoughtful intent. “She’s just expressed her wish to include Jimin in Smilodon’s wildlife conservation program. She wasn’t willing to provide a lot of information about him, unfortunately.”“Well, considering they’d have to run DNA tests and whatnot once he’s in, I wouldn’t risk lying about his origins,” Seokjin says. “Don’t think higher-ups will be very thrilled about a fraud.”“She’s a nice lady,” Taehyung avows, words trustful, tone confident. “She wouldn’t do that.”“You only met her today, Tae. How can you be so sure?”“I just know.”Jeongguk is chewing his tail. Taehyung locks eyes with him and finds the same doubt plaguing them, even after Seokjin cuffs him so he will not choke on hair later. Taehyung, for once, is peeved a little by his streak’s self-guarding instincts.“So, the color of his hair—” Taehyung is barefoot, so when he wiggles his toes, the plush fabric of the blanket around his lower half soothes him. It mellows his sudden spike of hostility. “His hair is natural? Not dyed?”Namjoon nods over the rim of his glass.“Maltese tigers were said to have bluish fur,” their alpha licks his lips, and his irises show a dreamy haze. “I find it extremely fascinating. Such mutation has never been recorded. A tiger with blue hair.”“Like some goddamned bird?” Seokjin marvels with an incredulous smile, chuckling to himself. “Leave it to Taehyung to fall for the odd one.”Taehyung does not have the fight in him to deny it, mind too busy pondering other ideas. Namjoon verbalizing it with such conviction is what lastly seals the deal, what wipes out any idle query. Jimin is a tiger. The beautiful human is a tiger, like himself. A fellow tiger that has not gotten on Taehyung’s nerves and has willingly co-existed in a limited space with him for more than five minutes without trying to tear his throat apart or claw his eye globes out of their sockets. Jimin is nice and lovely and very close to Taehyung’s idea of perfect.Taehyung cannot help but be biased. Smilodon has a total number of ten tigers, and half of them are either dominant or too barbarous when confined together, and the other half is mated to each other and have an ongoing bigotry against unmated ailuranthropes. Taehyung has wanted a tiger friend for a long time now, and the opportunity has been granted on a silver platter.“Don’t get any funny ideas,” Namjoon advises. “Nothing’s official yet.” Of course, they can smell his excitement. He is not being subtle about it.“Hyung?” Taehyung’s snaps his head in his direction. “If he’s a rare specimen, then it’ll be easier to get him in, right?”Namjoon’s eyes darken with a sentiment that oddly alienates Taehyung. Namjoon prolongs delivering whatever speech he has come up to in order to reinterpret his own qualms and uncertainty. Maybe he is brainstorming the best approach to kindly deter the tiger, who has been foolish enough to get infatuated and kindle his own hope. He dallies, because his next words are crucial if he wants his coalition to move forward with no emotional baggage to saddle them.No one says anything, sensing Namjoon’s inner struggle and wishing anything but wanting to add motives for him to stress over. Not when the discussion is this important, at least.Seokjin checks the hour and quietly picks himself off their couch. He shuffles to open one of the sliding doors that leads to the downstairs veranda.Then, as he watches his mate fidget, Namjoon sighs.“Jimin legally belongs somewhere else, in a mixed menagerie in Seongsageugdo, the sister-island of Ulleungdo. Megatherium, you know?”Taehyung and Jeongguk exchange inquisitive looks that self-explain how lost they are. They do not know. Trepidation freezes Taehyung’s veins, familiar with Namjoon’s tactful and methodic mannerism for diplomatic rejections.“She’s implored me to exploit my connections to persuade the higher-seats about sheltering Jimin until she settles some kind of legal impasse,” Namjoon makes sure to stare at him when he speaks next. Taehyung is nothing but restless. “Apparently, his stay over there was less than ideal. She needs a refuge for him before she runs out of time.”“Runs out of time—you mean, she is dying?” Jeongguk squeaks. “And, wait—wait. What does that—the refuge part even mean?”“What do you think it does, Jeongguk-ah?”The snow leopard frowns. His expression is appalling.It makes Taehyung unbelievably mad thinking that Jimin might have been tortured somehow before, have been treated with nothing but the respect he deserves, thinking that Jimin is with someone who cares about him so genuinely, yet will lose her soon. Whore, the man called him at the museum.Taehyung quivers.“So?” He breathes out. “Your answer, hyung. What is it?”Namjoon looks pained.“You know the drill, Tae. Tigers are extremely endangered species and zoos do not exchange them without political hindrances or financial deadlocks. The board might want to have him, yes, but I don’t think they will allocate funds for an unstable case. We just can’t steal him away—” Namjoon is numb and rueful, and keeps giving Taehyung a look he does not know how to label. “I’m not sure how could I help him.”Taehyung really dislikes politics.“So, you’re deciding not to because of bureaucracy?”“That’s not what I meant, Tae. I’d be pleased to do something if Jimin is indeed in trouble, but without a proper agenda, being reckless could only cause more damage than good.”They are silenced by a quiet thud outside. It precedes the squeaky skidding of a manhandled carcass that is flung through the open door then. Feathers spread everywhere with a squelching sound. Taehyung is grateful it has stolen their attention because he was about to display some nasty attitude.“Hoseok, you’re cleaning this or else!” Seokjin chastises somewhere on his left. The iron smell of blood stirs his empty stomach, but after the rock-hard news, Taehyung has no real appetite. It sickens him, even.
Jimin. Jimin. Jimin.
Beautiful Jimin.
What is Jimin doing now?
What will Jimin do if Namjoon turns them down?
He turns bleary eyes to the gory source of the commotion. The ostrich is practically beheaded, its long neck twisted and leaking, a proof that a cheetah’s finite momentum can make killing quite grotesque, can deduct any finesse in their techniques.Jeongguk finds it particularly remarkable anyway, thus he bolts to admire up-close what is left of the bird with artistic reverence.“Hobi-hyung took down an ostrich by himself? That’s so sick! This has to be almost thrice his size. How did he even—”Taehyung will think so if bedevilment were not so firmly roped around his neck. His tail is motionless and rigid, and he wants to snarl badly at whoever meets his gaze. He is tempted to break into an angry fit. And honestly, it scares him how fiery his temper is suddenly getting.
Jimin deserves this.
He deserves love and care. A family. A streak.
Namjoon sharp, stern look keeps him bridled, regardless.“It’s a young female, but has a good size—look at those legs, muscle’s not so hard yet”, Seokjin appreciatively says. He retreats for a moment as Jeongguk prods the inert carcass with his foot. “Don’t move it too much, Jeongguk, or I swear you’ll be licking the blood off with your tongue!”“Does that mean I get the first taste?” Jeongguk peeps with a playful smile.“In your dreams!” The white lion’s head pops out of the kitchen. “I mean it. That’s Joon’s privilege, not yours!”“He never uses it—” “Still, you’re the youngest here-”“Where is Hoseok-hyung?”“I’m still talking, Jeongguk!” Seokjin is shaking his head with an incredulous, content smile.
Jimin deserves the easygoing chattering and harmless bickering. A family.
“Can I go now?” Taehyung asks after his train of thought crashes in the depths of an innermost abyss. He itches to patrol their territory to counterbalance his turmoil. “It’s been a long day, hyung.”“You’re eating with us,” it is the poignant command Namjoon utters. “The coalition eats together, Tae.”“I’m not hungry.”Namjoon is mentally weighting his next words when Taehyung’s hyper-sensitive eardrums catch a faint, airy rap, the hit of sprightly pads a few meters away. It is too late for Jeongguk to elude it without trampling on the kill or making a bigger mess with his dirty feet. Smart Jeongguk is not hazarding annoying Seokjin when he is in his house-wife mode, so he opts to confront what comes next.Taehyung observes as the snow leopard shifter shields his face with veiny forearms. Hoseok jumps on him seconds later, speedy and supple in his cheetah form, tackling him down and pressing him against the hard flooring. Jeongguk has enough muscle on him to withstand the hit, huffing a throaty laugh.Hoseok is a diurnal creature by default. Seeing him so ebullient after nightfall is always revitalizing, like a nature miracle per se. It has Taehyung feeling partially better.Jeongguk recovers from the abrupt falls and clamps Hoseok down, adrenaline and greed for control pouring out of him like a tsunami, and they happily wrestle until Seokjin roars. “Hoseok, change or you’re out! How many times do I have to repeat this! Your claws aren’t retractable, you’re going to leave marks on the floor.”“Jin-” Namjoon begins.“Don’t ‘Jin’ me. Alpha or not, if you’re not on my side, you’re not eating my cooking. Don’t be so lenient!”Namjoon chuckles heartily, rubbing his mate’s wrist before he moves away. “Between the two of us, I believe you spoil them the most.”Hoseok licks Jeongguk’s neck before halfheartedly removing his svelte body and purring in Seokjin’s general direction. His reshaping is a fluent and swift as his running. In a blink, he is a lean man with a gracefully flickered tail moving back and forth, and round, dark brown ears peeping over his dirty blonde hair. He has the minimal decorum to tangle the piece of cloth that Seokjin proffers him around his narrow waist, whistling without a care in the world.Taehyung tries again.“Can I be excused now?”“No.”“What’s up? You weren’t at the show today. I missed you guys—” Hoseok folds his arms, and his tails flips with curiosity. “I heard you got pretty antsy around a tourist today at the café. Chased him out and everything. Everything okay?”“Well-”Taehyung deflates.“Hobi-hyung, Namjoon-hyung doesn’t want me to be happy.”“Pa-pardon me?” Their alpha instantly stammers.Jeongguk scoffs, eyes twinkling with interest, but his amusement is ephemeral. Seokjin has targeted him as his assistant for the night.“Yah, Jeongguk, be useful and take the ostrich to the kitchen. You’re helping me pluck it. And you better be careful because we’re supposed to sell the feathers to Byul’s pride.”“What is it now?” Hoseok asks their leader as Jeongguk grumbles in the background about staining his clothes. “Why are you bullying our Taehyungie?”“I’m not doing such thing-”“He’s blue-balling the kid!” Seokjin drolly exclaims from the kitchen. Hoseok looks even more lost than before, though he keeps a big smile on. Taehyung indeed feels blue, but not for the reasons Seokjin has hinted.“Our TaeTae wants to bang someone? Woah! It’s been a while—ever since that debacle with the lioness, right?”Hoseok sits down on the Amish loveseat of doubtful origin (nobody can remember when or how it has gotten there, so they do not question it), and contorts his body into a comfortable position. Like that, he looks like a happy, domestic cat. Taehyung cringes to himself.“Are you finally tired of spending your ruts alone? Who’s the lucky one? Do I know them?”“It’s not like that,” he repeats, because truthfully, it is not. Jimin is beautiful and fearless, or at least that is impression he has left on him, and Taehyung will be happy just pursuing a platonic relationship. He more or less needs Jimin in Smilodon for that because he is not the epistolary lover-friend type. “I met a nice tiger that wants Namjoon’s help, and he won’t do anything because of politics.”Namjoon pinches the bridge of his nose. Hoseok clicks his tongue.“Before you judge me, I’ll explain it to you,” Namjoon prompts out. “And Taehyung, quit the childish attitude already.”Taehyung is moving his legs. “Can I leave now?”“No—”“Yes—”“Hoseok!”“I don’t like when Taehyung’s miserable! He smells like rotten spices and everything that’s bad in the world!”“Just—okay. Go get fresh air. You’re still eating with us.”Taehyung flees to the veranda with the blanket like a cape on his shoulders, vaults over the balustrade and jogs away from the orange light surrounding their house, until his feet reach the border of the hill wherefrom their house overwatches the next few miles.A woodland stretches to the east, a grassland covers the southwest. He beholds the rich panorama, the unclouded firmament illuminating everything with slivers of moonlight and starlight. Crickets and cicadas serenade the stars with cyphered notes. The air smells humid.It would be just perfect to lay down and stargaze, yet Taehyung is nowhere near the contemplative mood to do it properly.Amidst the foliage in the distance, a road can be seen, far away expanding limitlessly, winding around the irregularity of the wilderness like some flexible snake. One of the explorer vehicles for nocturnal escapades is crossing it. Taehyung sees it stopping by a wall of towering trees he knows is a favored spot for giraffes to usually roam at night. Maybe the audience has gotten the opportunity to witness Hoseok hunting the ostrich with all odds against him, coming unscathed and victorious a while ago. That definitely would have been a more valuable show than observing those pretentious freckled poles nibbling leaves and kicking their legs around, as Seokjin would say.(For Taehyung, however, giraffes are rather fun. Hunting them is quite the challenge and to this day, he is the only one capable of taking one down without help).A twig cracks and his ears adjust their angle to isolate the direction of the noise. Taehyung is never afraid. His instinct to protect where he belongs, and his streak, are stronger than any apprehension. He spontaneously shifts to confront whoever has ventured inside their territory. His claws are growing and raking dirt, and his tail flaps in anticipation against the rocky ground.An exquisite aroma of berries, orchids and lilies surges forward, titillating his nostrils and dampening his tongue with an unexpected taste of yearning. It is still moderate, as if it had been attenuated for long and is gradually growing haler, becoming more perceptible and vigorous. Still, the first taste of it is wonderful enough. In its full potency, Taehyung does not doubt it must be fresh and irresistible, tantalizing, in a way that is so sweetly addictive. It has him exalted in seconds and Taehyung knows, even before the owner slides of out the bushes, to whom such signature belongs. Thus, when Jimin worms into view, shivering from head to toes, what stuns Taehyung are his bared ears and striped tail, both reflecting silver when the moonlight reaches them.
Beautiful, beautiful tiger.
“I followed the signature,” Jimin simply states, a bit defensive. Taehyung would not ever dream of chasing him out, not consciously, so Jimin’s automatic greeting is a tad upsetting.They wince in unison but do not move. Taehyung’s tiger is assessing the newcomer, the unknown breeder who has barged too close to their den, searching for any sign of impending danger or blatant hostility. Jimin’s is most likely doing the same, even though he is the perpetrator, for it is necessary to establish mutual trust to prevent a needless bloodbath.Taehyung is grateful neither is grumbling, otherwise the noise will surely attract his housemates out and Taehyung does not want them there. This feels right with just the two of them. Jimin glances over to the two-story lodge. Taehyung does not know what he sees, but his smile is demure and nostalgic. “Your home’s beautiful. I’m a little envious.”“It’s a lot nicer inside, I think,” he thinks of the fireplace during mercilessly cold nights, of steaming mugs between their fingers and mouthwatering treats Seokjin lays down on their coffee table as he relates some hilarious anecdote from their—as Namjoon’s and his—courtship period. Taehyung offhandedly blurts out, “we even have hot cocoa. All organic.”“Organic?” Jimin humors him with a bashful simper. Taehyung snorts at his own silliness. “Like, no processed powder? What’s the fun in that?”“You’re in a natural reserve. Believe me, everything here’s as organic as it can be.”Jimin pauses to mull over something. Taehyung’s tail is restless, lazily tracing an infinite shape, back and forth, over and over again.“You hunt your food, right? That’s—unusual.”“A market of preys,” the fellow tiger chuckles when he gestures to the adjacent lands. Taehyung grins. “So, yes, most of the times we hunt our food, unless the ruminants aren’t reproducing as expected and ailuranthropes begin killing each other in the wild. It has happened before. Now, if a crisis occurs, caretakers ration our portions and make us endure communal dining with other prides and coalitions.”Jimin blinks. “That sounds awful.”“It is. The other tigers in the park are always picking up fights, and breeders get very aggressive during hot-days. Thanks heavens it doesn’t happen often.”Taehyung unfastens the lousy knot of the blanket over his collarbones and offers it to Jimin, whose goosebumps become a little more aggressive as seconds tick by.Jimin hesitates before brushing the fabric with a fleeting touch. His fingertips hover over his mouth as he sniffs them, analyzing Taehyung’s scent. “You smell like cinnamon and chocolate, with a bit of something—like cardamon? That’s very rare,” he giggles candidly, heartfelt. He looks up and his gaze is dreamy. “It’s odd, but nice. I like it.”Taehyung releases a breath he has not noticed holding back in the first place. A giddy sensation creeps from his stomach to his neck, has his heart thundering madly. He is delighted.Jimin accepts the blanket, allowing Taehyung to wrap it around his frame like a hood, meticulously covering his scent glands. This way, if any of his streak-mates were to come out looking for him, they will not instantly locate Jimin. Taehyung knows he has to thread carefully, not only for Jimin’s sake, but because his loyalty still lies with his hyungs and Jeongguk. He cannot forget that.Taehyung looks up at the sky and links the visible constellations, pointing some of the figures to his companion. He pretends that Jimin inching to stand next to him goes unnoticed.“Not that I mind, but why are you here?” Taehyung finally asks him once he has drunk enough of Jimin’s exquisite scent. He gnaws his bottom lip, guilt corrupting his moment of peace. “Did you watch Hobi-hyung’s show? I—well, I’m sorry for bailing out. Things got a bit complicated.”“It’s alright,” Jimin moves like a graceful wave, approaching with every intention to cling, and then retreating as if nothing has happened. It makes Taehyung edgy. “I assumed you were going to skip it after, you know, talking to auntie. It was to be expected.”“Did you like it?” He murmurs, hypnotized by the warmth present in Jimin’s soulful gaze. “The show, I mean.”Those naked, blue eyes sport a twinkle that would put the stars to shame. Taehyung dares not to move. “It surely lives up to the expectations,” Jimin brushes his tail against Taehyung’s thigh. He smiles softly.Complacency has Taehyung’s tail falling limp, overwhelmed into a delirious daze, and the last vestiges of tension disperse. “Good. That’s—great. Hobi-hyung works hard before every showtime. Everyone does. They’re an incredible team.”“Your hyung’s the Asiatic cheetah, right? His photo was in the program,” Jimin toys with the hem of the blanket. He looks crestfallen all of the sudden, his voice slightly timorous, and Taehyung cannot grasp what has gone wrong. “He was mind-blowing, really. I really enjoyed his performance.”Relief tickles his veins so nicely.“Did your—” Taehyung rubs his wrist conscientiously, “err, auntie like it?”“I think she has a low-key crush on your streak-mate,” Jimin jokes, but he sobers up at something he remembers instantly, not even giving Taehyung a chance to huff the start of a laugh. “She, ah... she booked a safari tour with the family.”The tiger is not openly unresponsive. Jimin looks rather bothered. Taehyung, instead of fully turning, rearranges his posture into a firmer one and watches as the explorer drives ahead, faraway.“I stayed behind—well, I said I would,” he kicks a pebble down the hill. His volume is low, toeing a private, intimate idea. Taehyung scoots closer and Jimin lets him, their hips practically glued. A part of Taehyung wishes they would rub their necks together, would kneel and snuggle, maybe stargaze. So, so ridiculous. And dangerous. “I could smell you guys from a mile away, in the station they left me in. I know I should’ve stayed away, that I’m not supposed to trespass a claimed territory like this, but I needed to tell you something.”Jimin is an open book when brooding. Taehyung learns this because of his expressive features. Glassy-eyed, vacuous smile, empty look, nothing like his smiles full of life. The Bengal tiger cannot tolerate it. He wants to groom the breeder and erase all traces of sadness and hopelessness, yet he remains mum, for the gravity behind Jimin’s intonation curbs his desires.Namjoon told him to quit the childish attitude. He does that.“She means well,” Jimin glares at his shoes, a conflictive sentiment plaguing him. It is self-directed anger, as far as the other tiger shapeshifter can infer. “She means well, but I can’t accept her help, or yours for the matter. Please, don’t pay attention to whatever she’s asked you to do. Let things stay as they are. That’s for the best.”Taehyung gulps a meteorite down. Rough, cutting, rash. Something inside his shatters.He panics.“What?” Jimin’s guarded semblance crumbles minimally when Taehyung’s scent exudes a gush of bitter worry. Taehyung’s hands fly to imprison his dainty wrist. “Why?” He repeats in a whisper, glancing over his shoulder, back to the vacant veranda. The streak is still unaware of their unbidden guest, fortunately. Their alpha would be displeased. “There’s enough space for you in Smilodon, Jimin. I’m positive Namjoon-hyung can find a way for your admission to be successful, and we’ll help him. You don’t have to go back to that zoo—” His voice loses octaves as his courage wavers. “You can be happy here.”
With us. With me.
Taehyung is terrified of himself, of the wishful fervor hogging all the corners of his mind. He has never wanted anything like this, has never longed for something with such ferocity.Jimin’s sorrowful eyes narrow menacingly at his choice of words, indicating his verbal misstep, feeding the terrible sensation rattling his bones. Jimin smirks and it is nothing short of spiteful.“You can’t just assume that. That’s pretentious and selfish.”“But—” Taehyung falters as a foul storm invades Jimin’s bluish eyes. Even with a veil of night around them, they glimmer passionately, so clear for Taehyung to see and recoil at their intensity.
He is not egotistic, is he?
“She said that they’re not treating you well. She came here to look for a better life for you”, Taehyung is desperate enough to play with a fire he does not if he can control. He doubts that, if Jimin does flee, he will ever meet him again. It is unbearable to even think about it, enough to risk it all, even when Jimin’s expression darkens in a way that tells him he has crossed a line. “You’re a strange specimen, which would benefit your case. You fit in here, Jimin. I—well, I think you deserve the best.”“Stop”, Jimin hisses, his teeth grinding. The order is vile, turbulent, intransigent.Jimin is imploding and it is unnerving Taehyung badly.“Just—just don’t,” the Maltese tiger takes a deep breath. He sounds watery. “You don’t know me. You don’t get to assert that kind of things. You have no right to judge.”“But,” Taehyung feels useless as he examines Jimin’s hardened countenance, an unbreakable barrier in between. His ears are folded over in distress. “She was—was Mrs. Bae lying about that? About you-you needing shelter?”The Maltese tiger does not answer immediately. Not verbally, in any case, but Taehyung reads the signs. The lashing tail that faints, inert, emotionless. The pull of face muscles, the opaque shadow of resignation. Jimin simply shrugs.Taehyung speculates. Jimin has yet to deny anything. His twitchy hands and pensive frown hint a silent struggle, and his scent is barely tinged with something desirous. Perhaps he does hanker for some help, pines for another reality, but has a substantial motive to withhold himself.“Why would you stay there when they’re more options?” He has to inquire.Jimin sighs.“It’s my home, whether I like it or not.”“Home is your safest place, your sanctuary,” Taehyung feels a pang on his chest. “A place where you’re not highly valued can’t be your home. It shouldn’t.”A flash of frustration, an arrow of pain.“Just because you have it easy it here, doesn’t mean we all get the same luxury!”Jimin retrieves his wrist when Taehyung finally drops his hands. The air tastes like defeat. He did not even know they were competing. He does not even know who could be the winner, not when it feels like a stalemate is crushing them down.Easy, Taehyung repeats to himself. He has nothing to answer that.“It’s... complicated”, is what the Maltese tiger mumbles with remorse. “Megatherium’s my home. As complicated as it can be.”“How so?”Taehyung is stubborn and so is Jimin. The Maltese tiger protectively hugs his chest, glaring at the Bengal tiger. “Jimin, please, I—” He chokes, swallowing too many words that would not be appropriate to say. He means every single one, though. “If they’re mistreating you, you can’t just... go back.”“You have a good life here,” Jimin comments again and for a second, he diverts his attention to study Taehyung’s home with nebulous, morose eyes. “You wouldn’t understand. Taehyung, would not.” Taehyung unwinds his stiff stance, has his tail swaying gently against Jimin’s hand. He blankly nods, trying to stay coolheaded. He does know, however. He knows what he is talking about. Jimin’s gaze is now ablaze but so frightening. He will turn venomous, will spitfire to make him back off, and Taehyung all but wishes that.“Make me understand,” he pleas, earnest, respectful. “I want to help you.”“No,” Jimin replies hotly. Something flashes in his eyes, and it is heartbreaking. “Stay out of it. This is not your problem. It’s mine, and I’ll figure it out.”“Taehyung, dinner’s ready!” Namjoon yells from the veranda, Jeongguk right behind him, and the momentary distraction provides Jimin a window to flee.Taehyung shuts his eyes and lets him go, even when every single piece of him breaks apart, and the violent voice inside him tells him to run after him, to give chase.
jin's lion inspiration
rm's lion inspiration
kookie's snow leopard inspiration
hobi's cheetah inspiration
tae's tiger inspiration
jimin's tiger inspiration (only a bit grayer)
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Before you go, compare this and this with this, and tell me I didn't make a good choice for JK's cat. Plus, RM.Taehyung recoils as if he had been hit the second his ears catch the beginning of morning birds’ trilling.He lowers the delicate brush and palette in his hands and peels his thick face-mask off before worming his way out of the blanket draped over his lap—the blanket that used to carry Jimin’s sweet scent, which is now irremediably lost—and moving away from his workstation. Kneeling by the window seat, he unlatches the lock and pushes the sash, allowing in a chilly breeze to air the room, waning the potent scent of paint.He wearily squints ahead. In the distance, behind the bumpy chain of mountains shaped like a mother elephant and her baby, he espies the shy telltales of sunrise. The hue of the firmament is considerably less obscure than the last time he checked, and Taehyung wallows on the fact he has missed the hours blending away so swiftly. Again.His brooding dies soon, however, once he realizes that not only he has an entire workday ahead, but it is Friday, the second busiest day of the week, and he will have to undergo it all restless and groggy. Again.A vivacious rapping on his door alerts him of company, has his scrambling up to snatch the blanket, ball it up and hide it behind his back. Hoseok’s peppery scent reaches him even before he has turned the knob open. His streak-mate yawns loudly, spotted tail dangling as he stretches leisurely before crossing the entryway.“Rise and shine, sunbeam—”Taehyung watches, almost in slow motion, how a wave of disappointment smashes Hoseok’s pleasant features once the stench of oil paint has penetrated his nostrils.The cheetah clogs his nose with his elbow crook and swerves to inspect the corner where Taehyung awaits with bated breath, attired in his self-accusatory creative gear, as Namjoon likes to call the baggy shirt and stained sweatpants that he wears when painting, paired with a bandana to keep his locks out of his vision, and the black face-mask that prevents him from getting light-headed too fast.“Tell me you tried, Taehyung,” Hoseok hisses, not necessarily mad, just tired. Extremely so.“I did,” he responds hoarsely. His jittery tail pitapats the wooden legs of his stool, once, twice. “I really did, hyung.”An awkward pause arises until Hoseok is speaking again, fabric muffling his speech.“How long this time?”“Um…”The tiger furtively eyes his artwork. He has crafted tiny boats in white polymer clay, stippling them with a silverish blue; they go on an ultramarine ocean with a crystal blue moon reflecting a crystal blue moonlight, with a background bay in black and russet stripes—he recalls mixing cadmium orange with royal blue, almost hyperventilating in the process, to get the russet shade.Taehyung balks, the scene evincing his irresponsibility.“An hour? Two, maybe?”“Okay,” Hoseok answers after another stale intermission, too serene, motioning backward with his thumb. “We’re patrolling with Namjoon, so clean yourself up and we’ll grab a bite before going out. I’m in the mood for a smoothie—”“I’m not hungry—” He spews without thinking. Grave Mistake.Hoseok goes eerily silent once again, small ears imperceptibly spasming in what Taehyung assumes is budding anxiety, mouth drawing a triangle that means no good news. The tiger grows proportionally distressed, enough to toy with the idea of pacing around his room to pointlessly mark his space.“Alright. But you’re eating when we get back. I’ll make sure Jin-hyung shoves a juicy piece of meat down your throat, and some of those nasty veggie shakes,” the cheetah compromises, as patient and relenting as he can be, and Taehyung reluctantly agrees. “I’ll meet you downstairs in five. Hurry up.”The tiger peeks at his work halfway done once Hoseok shuts the door behind him. He discards the blanket and attentively studies his fingers, then his palms, then his forearms. They are all covered in dried blue. It is everywhere. Even over the tip of his tail, which is going to be a torment to remove.He begins feeling awfully blue himself.Taehyung damps a cloth with baby oil and brashly rubs his skin until it stings, yet the blue does not disappear entirely. So, he trudges out of his room, carefully treading down the corridor since is it very likely that Jeongguk and Seokjin are still fast asleep, and sneaks into the communal bathroom. He mechanically rinses off with a blue soap bar and lukewarm water, forcing himself to mentally peruse his agenda for the day, to ignore what nags the back of his conscience.Taehyung thinks of the early patrol as a blessing. An appropriate distraction for his volatile humor, an ego-boosting remedy for his mopey tiger. Dominants constantly renovate their signatures around the borders of their territory to warn intruders away. It is a cynic kind of fun, most of the times. They scratch and rub their scent glands against tree and bushes, and if it were the case that a rival has trespassed, and their unwelcome scent still lingers, they even pee around to state their ultimate claim. Taehyung likes roaring as Namjoon does all of above because, whereas his roar is husky and soothing for his streak, it tends to scare other ailuranthropes within two miles.That does not bother him, if anything, serves all purpose. Namjoon is a popular individual, loved and equally hated, so Hoseok and he never let him traverse the limits of their habitat by himself. As regal and almighty Namjoon can appear in his lion form, with his long and velvety mane, all black like crude oil or delicious licorice—Taehyung really admires his hyung’s obsidian coat—, he is a klutzy quadruped, as endearingly clumsy as he is standing in two feet.He is a strong, proficient alpha, but he is not the type to always favor brawling. Namjoon often trips and plummets headfirst on the streams they come across, even when they have gone through that exact route a thousand times already, because he always has a story to tell and gets easily sidetracked with details. If any other dominant were to spot him with his head in the clouds, a bloodbath would ensue, and they just know Namjoon would not come out unscathed—perhaps psychically, but not emotionally.Taehyung’s traitorous eyes move south and the glimpse of blue splattering the white sink wrecks the steady railroad of his train of thoughts. He cannot avert his gaze, cannot focus on anything else but the ephemeral licks of water, so cold and slippery and fickle, and the color splashing the ceramic.It is rather fitting, he muses.Eventually, he closes the tap and wipes his wet palms on his pants, only for them to come up with new smears of mocking blue and dull orange paint, given that his sweatpants are a little filthy from his night session.He scoffs, then becomes crestfallen.He goes back to washing his hands with a heavy heart, knowing well that he will be sporting another shade of blue tomorrow. And the day after. And the day after that.Because, as a metaphor, it just fits.His life has been like this since Jimin’s cannonball appearance and less than spectacular departure—with a prevalent blue smudge that cannot be fully decolored, that will not vanish, no matter what he does.He cannot stop longing for the beautiful Maltese tiger.Taehyung has seen days overlapping nights and nights overlapping days, minutes changing into hours and dates being crossed out on their calendar, and albeit his routine is the same and it is never boring, he cannot expunge the sensation that he is no more than a stagnant pebble at the bottom of a blue river, with no motivation to do much apart from painting cerulean sceneries, and cobalt people, and azure animals.Very fitting indeed.The image of Hoseok’s mood downfall flashing before his eyes shortens his breath and impels him to confront the mirror. After a while of staring vacuously, he does a funny face at his reflection, not as spontaneous as normally, but good enough to lift his spirits. He self-compliments how shiny his copper locks are, and how nice his tan is working out, and calls his beauty marks by their star constellation names. He promises himself to treat the eye-bags and sleep more.He feels a little better, a little less blue, closer to an orange shade like sunlight. It is something. One thing that makes Taehyung prideful, right after his beautiful tiger form, is their alpha.Namjoon is unarguably a remarkable leader. He is not perfect, no one is, but Taehyung likes to believe that Namjoon is as close as anyone could get. He rarely opts for acting self-righteous or imposing, unless putting a pertinacious foot down to break an argument and restore the streak’s equilibrium is overdue. He is outspoken and empathetic, always ready to hearten his coalition however he is capable, ever-so obliging to listen and offer his input without sugarcoating his opinion.Which is why his fidgety body language all but puzzles Taehyung a few hours later. Suspended tail, radar-like ears, his practiced diplomatic smile a bit dimmer. Perhaps Taehyung is not as assertive as Namjoon when dissecting emotions and lowkey reading minds, but he is certain that whatever their alpha is hiding is vexing enough to mangle his usual fortitude.He has an inkling it has something to do with that morning's episode.“So, why are you guys here again?”His shift has ended a few minutes prior, after bidding a fairly large school trip farewell, goggling at the parade of navy-blue jackets filtering out. A blue that made his fingers spasm, his claws wanting to come out. At least all those prepubescent kids have been affable, with their funny small talk about idols, and manageable disposition, and they barely even flinched at his glistening canines. Taehyung can honestly assert that he enjoyed their visit.He was high in the lingering satisfaction of a well-done job when he started his day report, a formality for a probation of sorts, directly related to the rather colorful complaints filled by Mrs. Bae’s family. He was halfway done when an upcoming set of footsteps echoed through the hall. The feline stealth was unmistakable, and perhaps the familiarity built over years together runs deeper than what he could have ever envisioned, because Taehyung immediately identifies the newcomers without lifting his gaze, even before their idiosyncratic scents are wafted in by a draft.Jeongguk often—too often, in fact—slips out of the coffeehouse to pester him and purposefully irk Seokjin, so Taehyung was everything but nonplussed when beholding the universe of mirth restrained inside his twinkling eyes across the room. The snow leopard was shameless about his appearance, too, if the perilous intent gleaming on his gaze was anything to go by.He even smirked when Taehyung brought a palm up and plead, “wait, no-”Jeongguk’s lunge over the desk was decisive, swift, lethal. Taehyung briefly considered escaping but resigned himself to the tough love, playing along with his wrestling opponent, puffing frisky grunts, half-assed meows. It never fails to surprise him how Jeongguk tends to be more competitive as a human than he is as a feline.But, maybe that it is for the best. Taehyung is immensely thankful that Jeongguk is as rowdy with him as usually. Makes him feel stable and not so helplessly frail, like he does when Hoseok and Seokjin worry and fuss about him. He knows they care, but. But. And now, there they are, with smiley Namjoon standing a few feet ahead is blaring Taehyung’s inner alarms. Their alpha is so careful with his schedule that showing up unannounced might as well be a signal of the apocalypse.“Are we bothering you?” Namjoon smoothly eludes his first question. Taehyung shakes his head, ears unfolded and attentive. “You don’t have plans afterward, do you?”The tiger’s palms are clammy as he recognizes an imperceptible edgy cadence. “No. I was going to fill an order for new aquarelles and more polymer clay. And some brushes, too. Mine are kind of… frayed.”
They won’t last another week of sleepless nights.
Jeongguk watches him closely, his soft ears a bit lowered. Taehyung knows that he, as a fellow artist, is concerned for the mad increase of his output. His art is suddenly too devouring.“We’ll tag along,” Namjoon decides. “We have time to spare, haven’t we, Jeongguk-ah?”Taehyung peers at him suspiciously, feeling a prickle of annoyance traveling up his spine. He does not need babysitters to fret over his every move. He is fine. Sad, yes, but perfectly fine.He glances at the youngest of them, who is halfway up the counter, more or less as estranged as he is. The tiger sighs, shoving him off. Jeongguk lands with perfect ease on the floor.“I’m tired, though, and I’m sure Eunha’s shop is going to be swamped with humans today, so I’ll do it on Monday.”Namjoon nods. His hypnotizing eyes are hazy, stranded in a profound ruminating, and even his voice seems to return from a faraway point.“We’ll head back together then.”Taehyung wants to slam his palms on the counter and demand an answer. Why is Namjoon acting so strange? Why is he beating around the bush now?He says instead, “Jin-hyung and I are on hunting duty tonight. You can go ahead—”“It’s been covered…” Their alpha drawls as if he expected Taehyung to react badly. The tiger does not react, period. He stares blankly at some point over Namjoon’s shoulders. “I sent Hoseok a memo, so he’ll join Jin-hyung later.”“What? But they—”“They understand.”Taehyung does not. Or maybe a part of himself does, but he is adamant on not acknowledging it.He stays quiet.His streak-mates trail after him to the employee lounge once he is done filing his report. Jeongguk is rambling to fill the silence, going over the topic of his birthday and the perks of being official of age, after waiting for it so long.“I want my first kill to be musk deer, or maybe thar, which would be a good way to expand our menu options—I used to love thar meat, I think. When I was little. It’s a shame you guys can’t stand the cold of the peaks,” his tail alternates between brushing Taehyung’s rear and Namjoon’s lean waist.It is comforting somehow, or at least for him.Namjoon playfully tweaks one of his ears. He does not seem the slightest uncomfortable when giving Jeongguk with a kind grin. Taehyung tries not to make it personally, but it is difficult not to.So, it is about me.“I can’t believe you’re almost twenty-one… I can’t honestly say that I miss the sixteen years old brat that wouldn’t just listen whenever I asked him to take a bath and even went an entire week nowhere near soap to contradict me.”Taehyung winces at the memory as Jeongguk’s neck flushes bright red. His scent flares.“Namjoon-hyung, you still don’t like water that much either—”“My lion doesn’t, but I can move past it. You, on the other hand, were just going through that weird, rebellious, slacktivism phase,” Namjoon taps his chin in a faux pensive manner. “I can’t deny you got your sweet moments as well. Do you remember that stormy night when—”“Stop it, no, I—”, Jeongguk splutters incoherently. “You finish that sentence and I’m telling Jin-hyung why you really don’t like Nayeon-ssi.”Namjoon is the flustered one now, his sharp scent spearing Taehyung’s nostrils.“You wouldn’t dare, you rascal.”Taehyung feels a lot calmer as he watches the banter unfold.“Shouldn’t you be at work, Guks?” He wonders once they arrive at the lounge, shrugging his vest off and tossing his beret inside his locker.Jeongguk’s piercing gaze finds his in the pocket-sized mirror pinned to the metallic door of his locker. The snow leopard’s brownish eyes flitter from his to their alpha’s, and then flutter back to Taehyung’s again.“Namjoon-hyung told Jin-hyung he needed me to run an errand with him, so I clocked out earlier,” he answers doubtfully, as if he did not know if it was appropriate to reveal that, flickering the tip of his tail. He shrugs. “But we came here right away, so…”Taehyung closes his locker.“An errand?”They swivel to look at the ambiguously silent black lion. Namjoon hesitates, and Jeongguk and he are momentarily stabbed by panic. Last time Namjoon was that uncertain, Seokjin barely escaped being transferred to a reserve overseas, somewhere in Africa.“Hyung, you’re making me nervous. What’s going on?”With an exhausted, careworn smile, their alpha ruffles his own hair and tells them to sit down. They comply wordlessly. “You understand why I couldn’t assist Jimin back then, don’t you, Taehyung?”It sounds like a rueful plea.Taehyung experiences the influx of shock with vivid self-awareness. His toes curl up as his back muscles harden like cement, his tail recoiling and his ears flattening against his skull. His voice is nowhere to be found as seconds elapse, as he internally shrinks under Namjoon’s attentive eyes. An aborted growl scarcely makes it out of his throat, broken and feeble and tampered, not better than a wet whimper.Hearing Jimin’s name from Namjoon, when his alpha looks so upset, is devastating. The best lions are creatures of pride, of death before dishonor nature. Taehyung hates it—the consuming gloom, the icy sensation of desolation, the way the blue that has been tainting his temperament is contaminating Namjoon’s majesty as well.For the past months, he has done everything expected of him, working hard with the same competence as always, being more proactive to quell the emptiness. Still, the heartache has thrived, growing more aggressive every day. Taehyung knows he will be more resilient once the crisis has passed. Tigers are excellent fighters, excellent survivors. He has endured worst things that a heartbreak. He will make it. He knows.But the toll is not exclusively his problem, not when it has progressively strained the streak’s seamless lifestyle. And that realization is awful.Taehyung quails. He swallows a passing upsurge of bitter guilt. He waits for the pressure on his lungs to ebb away, pressing a palm against a bare patch over his collarbones as if it would serve to relieve the discomfort. The skin underneath is spotless and healthy, yet itches like a rash.
It’s empty. It shouldn’t be empty—
No. Don’t venture there.
A familiar hand gently tousles his tufts of dark orange hair. He looks up to see Namjoon smiling down at him, apologetical, sympathetic. Taehyung’s tiger is on guard, hackles raised almost excruciatingly, but he manages to placate it once Namjoon starts scratching his chin, gingerly teasing the gland over his lips, offering solace and solidarity—things Taehyung realizes he should be reciprocating.Taehyung noses the palm proffered, scents it back.“I don’t blame you, hyung. I know you did everything in your power,” he declares earnestly, sincerely, but Namjoon’s sad scent does not lighten. “Hyung, believe me. I know it. I was angry at first, but I get it. It’s okay. Some things aren’t—” He swallows bile, “just meant to be. I’m—I’m figuring it out. It’ll be fine.”He means it. After all, not only Namjoon was stuck in a compromising position with very few resources, but Mrs. Bae had the last say on the matter. She withdrew without further addition; Taehyung guesses Jimin must have succeeded at dissuading her.
Jimin…
It is not anyone’s fault but his, the way he has stubbornly hold on, so helplessly quixotic. Jimin is a stranger, another transient visitant within thousands that come and go. He should have been smarter, should have been more distrustful, should have listened to his common sense before allowing some visitant to take a fundamental piece of his soul as his souvenir.What is more concerning, though, is the fact that Taehyung honestly does not know if he wants it back. He can definitely live without it.
Right?
“I’ll be fine,” he promises. Their alpha does not look convinced. “You’re showing symptoms of separation, Taehyung,” Namjoon utters, articulating the words slowly, as if disclosing a terminal illness to a very unpredictable patient. “You haven’t been the same since he left. You aren’t mates, but your behavior hints otherwise.”Jeongguk sucks air rashly as Taehyung’s scent thickens. His neck is burning up.“You’re insomniac. Your appetite’s practical nonexistent nowadays—”“I can go two weeks without eating-”Namjoon directs a sharp look at him.“All your recent paintings are—well, they used to be either black and white, with varying shades of gray, or a carnival of colors. Now they’re all blue. And don’t misinterpret, I’m amazed at the speed you’ve learned to work with polymer clay, and how you’ve complemented your skills by fixing jewelry and knick-knacks, I truly am—but, Tae, can’t you see you’ve found an escape in that hobby?”“It’s—just stress,” he halfheartedly protests. Hearing someone else finally calling his abnormal deportment out is strange. Off-putting. “I’m working on it—”“You’re not even reacting to other breeders’ heats”, Namjoon mentions and Taehyung blanches. “Dahyun, the female liger from Nayeon’s pride, has paraded around our borders for days, leaving clues all over the place, and you haven’t noticed a thing. Even Jeongguk’s gotten pesky, and he’s not even attracted to her. I really thought it was just a temporary infatuation, but this is destroying you.”A white noise deafens him for an instant, along with a blinding fury. His tiger’s ferocity implodes at the bold suggestion with a discordant growl like a bass out of tune, and Taehyung is too stunned to completely restrain it, so his dormant attitude rises to the goading.“I’m fine,” he spits, tail lashing in irritation. “Jimin’s not ruined me—he could never. Take that back, hyung. Take it back.”Jeongguk yelps, a jarring noise between a human whine and a catlike hiss.Namjoon’s posture robotically adjusts to face any short-tempered outbreak. Taehyung responds to it by tensing his shoulders.In hindsight, he should have counted that Namjoon is well-versed about mate matters, a first-hand expert, and he would not have brought the topic to surface just because.“Listen to me. I haven’t said he has, Tae. I’m talking about your separation and the toll’s taken, is still taking, on you—”Namjoon sidesteps as Taehyung bolts upright, never backtracking, for that could be read as an invitation to pounce. The tiger is a bit too furious to comprehend the alpha’s peacemaker approach. He is just so angry.Jimin could never ruin him.Taehyung jumps to stand, itching to pace, but Jeongguk misreads it as a threat to their alpha. Light on his feet, he nearly tackles the tiger from behind, wrapping a steady arm around Taehyung’s middle. He is so brawny, his sturdy clasp like a boa’s, and barely budges as Taehyung scuffles with him.Once he realizes it is a lost cause, Taehyung stares at their alpha with haggard eyes and tightened lips.“Where are you going with all this?” He asks, and his tone sounds accusatory. “You think I haven’t realized the magnitude of this? That I’m gladly rolling on self-compassion just because I have nothing else to do?”“Watch your tone. That’s our alpha,” Jeongguk hisses against his ear. Taehyung snarls at him, but slumps further into his friend.Namjoon sighs, long, heavy, exhausted.“I can’t promise you that it’ll transpire as you might aspire, but I’m hoping that whatever the outcome is, you’ll be able to have a sense of closure—” He delicately mutters and the tiger shudders against Jeongguk.“Hyung, the point—” Jeongguk growls.“We’re going to Megatherium.”“Going to—what.”Taehyung is hit by a numbness that leaves him boneless, helpless, crumpling like a puppet that has gotten its strings cut. Then, he understands why Namjoon has dragged Jeongguk right into the gunfire.Hoseok, Namjoon and him practically grew up together. At the beginning, Taehyung was the youngest. His hyungs, both of the same age, used to accommodate his needs, used to think that pampering would help to soothe the emotional wounds that he has been carrying since he was a mere, naïve cub. Later, when Seokjin joined them, he found an outlet for his pain in indulging his whims, and though they did not spoil him excessively, their coddling made returning their care a rather difficult task.But once Jeongguk came around, lost and broken, nothing but a young ghost as pained and despairing as Taehyung once was, he learned how to be a hyung for him. He learned the meaning of responsibility, of empathy, of compassion—never pity.So, after traipsing and falling back on the lounge sofa, what grounds Taehyung is having Jeongguk snuggled in silence under his chin. It keeps him level-headed while Namjoon sorts through a pile of folded documents he has taken out of his jacket, and that eyes with a visage older, more tired.“They host a charity event annually, to attract more sponsors,” he starts, holding out a paper sheet, a copy of what it seems to be a formal invitation.Jeongguk detaches his nose from his neck and sits straighter to skim its contents, making Taehyung’s breath hitch. When he notices Taehyung’s moment of discomfort, he dives back into position.“And by ‘they’ I mean Megatherium’s board of directors,” Namjoon laces his fingers together, pensive. He searches for the right words as he reveals what else he has discovered during his investigation. “Mrs. Bae was right, I suppose. Something it’s amiss at Megatherium. It is as if Jimin didn’t exist there. He is registered in early records, but his information is kept cautiously private under a pseudonym. I had to persuade Mr. Bang to make a couple of calls, and even with his intervention, we only got tidbits of his birth certificate, and how many years he’s been in the menagerie. Also, he isn’t really featured on their site, where most therianthropes appear with artistic aliases, and he isn’t mentioned in any of the reviews left by visitors—either blogs, videos, or social media posts. It’s just—unusual.”Namjoon’s words spur a bad omen. It’s terribly suspicious, goes unsaid. “Hyung,” Taehyung’s voice is quiet, deadly so. Jeongguk tightens his hold on him in a comforting attempt. “Hyung, one of Mrs. Bae’s relatives called him—they called him whore,” the word tastes bitter on his tongue, mostly because he is terrified of Jimin suffering, and him being accessory to his agony like those nasty humans were through their own imprudence. “Do you think—”“I don’t know, Taehyung. I wouldn’t discard any possibility yet. Their administration’s shady enough to let the imagination run wild,” Namjoon responds, just as calm. He lets Taehyung process his words before continuing with his speech. “When I heard that Smilodon’s general curator was attending the event this year, I figured I could milk a few favors to have someone I trusted directly delving among the crowd. That was my original plan. But…”Taehyung’s heart throbs before skyrocketing up his throat and getting tangled in the middle of his vocal cords. He cannot speak, cannot breathe, cannot think.“Then, why are we all listed there as possible honor guests, hyung?” Jeongguk’s attitude quietens like a candle under a merciless wind. “You want us to leave the park? All of us?”His trepidation is justified. None of them, except for Namjoon, is a fan of the outside world. They have their reasons to abhor it, even.“I was given this alternative to attend it myself… It comes with a condition, though. Either the whole coalition goes,” Namjoon elaborates, “or none of us do.”“But—”“Do they know?” Taehyung is decibels shy from screeching. His heartbeat roars like a hurricane inside his ears, thudding so violently that he is positive Jeongguk can feel it against his own chest. “Jin-hyung and Hobi—do they know about this?”Namjoon sighs. “I—”“But that’s why I don’t like hunting alone with you!” Seokjin’s bellow booms through the hallway and hits the door like an inclement bong, startling them, effectively drowning whatever Namjoon intended to respond.Before Taehyung’s panicky thoughts can spiral down, Seokjin and Hoseok’s silhouettes calmly enter the lounge. Taehyung’s lungs skid out of place, feeble heart constricted in between, as their felicitous bickering halts the discussion. They continue with their theatrics as if they are unaware of the tension they have just barged in, but they must be, because their scents are quite eloquent.“We’re an amazing team, hyung,” Hoseok disagrees. “That time we got a beautiful, four hundred-and-so kudus-”“I almost lost an eye. My stunning amazonite eye, Hoseok!”“Would you stop referring to them like that,” the cheetah grouses before twittering enthusiastically. “You know the occupation entails certain risks, considering how volatile and quick antelopes can be, so—”“It was your paw in my eye!” Seokjin exclaims.“I said I was sorry. I miscalculated—”“And landed right in my face? And with your unretractable claws!”“Why does it always come back to that?”Taehyung burrows further into Jeongguk’s steady, soothing heat. That, coupled with the meaningless back-and-forth between Seokjin and Hoseok, provides a heartfelt haven for him. With a pleasant skittering through his veins, Taehyung thinks—that is his streak. His home. His sanctuary.A home he craves to share, the tender sentiment gushing through his bloodstream too wonderful to keep stored. Yet—While he would like to visit Megatherium, to have an opportunity to meet Jimin again and tell him he is the most beautiful shapeshifter he has ever met, to understand a little more what exactly had Jimin lashing out so badly against Taehyung’s easy life in Smilodon, he knows he would never ask nor expect a sacrifice of such significance from his streak-mates, not when he is aware of the hell each one has survived outside their park’s territory.Not even for Jimin.“Guys,” Namjoon finally decides to break them apart. “Guys!”They perk up in alertness. The light of the lounge highlights Seokjin’s milky locks and Hoseok’s sandy hair, and they both look all dandy and hale, like golden sunrays in humanoid flesh. So safe and sound, it would be a crime to snatch that serenity from them.Hoseok hops in, beaming. “What’s up?”Namjoon gestures to them, to Taehyung clutching Jeongguk like a shipwreck survivor holding onto the last lifesaver. Hoseok’s joyful smile instantly evaporates.“Ah, you’re telling them that the humans would have us attending the even to brag about Smilodon’s freaky coalition-streak-leap,” he jeers.“The only freaky thing here is you and your appalling aim,” Seokjin huffs. “I swear, Hoseok if I have to use an eye-patch for this gala or whatever after tonight, I’m burying you alive.”“It happened once, hyung.”They know. Taehyung cannot placate his wild heart as he realizes that truth. It feels like they hold the last vote for his life sentence. But I can’t.Seokjin trots fully in and their alpha displays a smitten smile upon having him close. He blows him a kiss that Seokjin returns without hesitance. Taehyung’s sinews ache, and a void seems to suction his bowels.“Hyung?” He rasps out, gathering his bearings. “Namjoon-hyung, I appreciate this, I can’t thank you enough—but, but…” He stammers, fumbling for the right words. “Is there no really other way? I don’t want you—none of you to—I can’t—”“Nonsense,” Seokjin sharply punctuates, as if he could understand everything Taehyung tries to say, but cannot put into enough words. “We’re all going, whether that sits well on your stomach or not. We’re a coalition, so we stick together through thin and thick. You’re not wilting away because of this—whatever this is you’ve got going on with that guy in that questionably pretty head of yours.”
But—
“If you gotta fuck it out of your system, good,” Hoseok states, frank, calm, folding his arms, keeping the tip of his tail lifted. “If you want something else and that guy ends up being the carrier of your cubs, that’s good, too. Just stop doing this to yourself—we can’t lose you. Not like this, Tae.”
But…
Taehyung’s eyes are swelling at the rush of overwhelming relief, their reassurance like a beacon of hope, a light at the end of the dusky tunnel.Still, he chokes up in denial, “I can’t ask you—”“Good thing isn’t your choice. We’re doing this because we care,” Namjoon interjects, seeing right through him. Taehyung cannot understand how they are so calm about the possibility of embarking into this kind of emprise, of risking so much—well, except for Jeongguk, who has gone statue-like stiff in his embrace. “So, everybody on board?”“Yeah.”“Yes.”The air shifts dangerously at the absence of a certain sweet voice. “Jeongguk-ah?” Namjoon probes, gliding his glasses up. “What do you say?”Taehyung cannot see his expression, but it must have been a forlorn sight, judging by the concerned looks that invade their hyungdul’s faces. He wishes he could be selfish and compel Jeongguk to oblige, to do this for him, but he would never do that. Jeongguk is pretty intrepid when facing many challenges, but this is a boundary Taehyung is not sure he will be willing to jump. Not after everything he endured to be finally at peace.He squeezes Jeongguk’s smooth nape and tenderly nuzzles his temple, hoping the snow leopard does understand that Taehyung will never hold it against him if he refuses to go. If Namjoon could find this opportunity by himself, Taehyung is positive they can find another solution if he helps him. Maybe if Seokjin and Hoseok assist them, too.“You better fucking mate that blue tiger,” Jeongguk grumbles against his shoulder, words muffled by the fabric. His fluffy tail drapes over Taehyung’s lap, protectively, possessively. “Because, I swear, Tae-hyung, this can’t be for nothing.”Hoseok, Seokjin and Namjoon sag in relief together. Hoseok hops closer to rub their maknae’s tense shoulder, and Namjoon leans over to ruffle his hair.“Thank you, thank you so much—I—” Taehyung stutters, pitch spiking then suddenly crashing into a grave croak. “Thank you, Jeongguk-ah.”“Anything for you, hyung,” he mumbles. Taehyung does not miss their hyungdul’s proud smiles.Taehyung does not sleep that night either, not because he is unable to, but because he is absorbed embroidering a dark purple pendant.
For Jimin.
Their transference to Megatherium—as caretakers refer to their trip—is uneventful, or as uneventful as traveling as an ailuranthrope can be.The circumstances and lack of time corner them to travel by air. International stipulations only allow certain domestic breeds to board on regular aircraft cabins, especially since there have been terrible accidents involving wild therianthropes going into frenzies of rage in planes, so sea transportation is usually the preferred type for covering long distances with them. Still, there are a handful of airlines who count with modified vessels, where a vacant section at the back is reserved for exotic creatures. Supposedly, that area makes the lowest economic class look like president premium, or at least Seokjin thinks so.They are driven away from Smilodon and into the busy airport early in the morning of the charity event day. They go in two different cars with tinted glasses that barely let them appreciate the landscape outside, as legal precautions in their country specify. Seokjin, Taehyung, and Jeongguk ride in the first car, and Namjoon and Hoseok travel in the second at the back. Their scant luggage is cramped on another van, under their caretakers’ supervision.Taehyung keeps Jeongguk’s hand tightly gripped the entire way to the airport. They do not comment about the dull look Jeongguk’s usually bright eyes acquire the further they get from their home. He is rather pale when they step out of the car and walk into the open lot where a small multitude of humans stop to gawk at their uncovered ears and tails. They are brought through a less-than-public security check, and receive an ambivalent treatment from the agents stationed there; some are amazed by their nature, complimenting their feline features and good manners, while others fearfully scorn and give them wide-berths. It is nothing Taehyung has not handled before. Still, his hands keep shaking in anxiety as they keep moving.
This is for Jimin. For Jimin. For Jimin.
“Would it be too outrageous of me to ask for a snack?” Seokjin wonders at some point, his head resting on Namjoon’s shoulder. He is wearing pastel pink for their trip, and looks extremely soft, and not like the three-hundred-thirty pounds of killing force he can be. He has an eye-patch on that gives him a vague air of it, and Hoseok is actively avoiding standing too close to him for his own’s sake. “Do you think they deem me capable of eating them?”Jeongguk, clad in black from head-to-toes, as if he were hoping the color would help him fuse with the shadows, looks briefly horrified. He warily eyes the security agents keeping them in check while their caretakers talk with their supervisor, and curls his trembling tail tighter around Taehyung’s waist. He rubs his chin against his hyung’s shoulder, scenting him, seeking some comfort.In return, Taehyung pats his cheeks, stroking his wrist against the soft skin.“Hyung,” Namjoon sighs, contrasting against his mate in his big green jacket. “Don’t stir trouble now.”“Someone has to make this interesting. This is so boring—”“They’ve brought armed police officers, Jin-hyung, and they don’t look too amicable,” Hoseok points out with a terrifying calmness, although his tail is bent up and his ears are flat-down. Seokjin narrows his eyes, but does not answer, for he knows their cheetah-shapeshifter is right. “I really, really wouldn’t start anything funny right now.”“I hate this,” Jeongguk mumbles. “We’re not dangerous. We’re not like that—not anymore.”After that, they do not speak more.Their flight is not so bad, since their caretakers dope them with sedatives, although their cargo-like seats are indeed horrible. Even so, Taehyung thinks that the less than memorable part of the entire ordeal is getting on and off the plane. Curious passengers crowd the gates both times to get a glimpse of them—his kinship’s numbers are so critically low these days, Taehyung understands their curiosity. He cannot hold a grudge against them, not even when the blinding flashes of their smartphones leave his eyes sore for an hour, and the incessant click-click-clicking haunts him even longer than that.Hell begins to break loose once they exit the island’s airport to be taken to Megatherium. They are handcuffed not even a minute after stepping into the arrival hall, despite their staff’s loud objections, and are brusquely shoved inside the back seats of a van with hard-steel, square-hole-punch partitions, as if they were criminals. Taehyung feels an unprecedent upsurge of wrath when the men manhandle Jeongguk, but Namjoon keeps him at bay with one expressive look—if he gives them a reason to treat them like beasts, they will do it. What they are enduring is nothing compared with what the humans could actually do to them.Taehyung’s tiger is furious, but the idea of jeopardizing their reunion with Jimin helps to keep him quiet.At least the windows of the van are not tinted too darkly, for Taehyung spends the ride making faces and exhibiting his boxy smile and sharp canines to owlish-eyed kids at every traffic light stop. It is the least he can do to keep himself distracted from the heavy sentiment settling in the bottom of his stomach as his streak journeys in a graveyard-like silence. Arriving at Megatherium is a whole new experience, and not precisely for the best reasons.The mixed menagerie is an extension of a former rich residence built during the Korean Empire, with a rather well-preserved, intricate façade and a beautiful, green landscape as a front yard. It looks like a fortress taken out of a Western medieval fairy tale.Taehyung did not know it, but Megatherium is famous for their performers. Apparently, the American diplomat who started collecting the therianthropes for the Emperor used to be a music enthusiast, so every shapeshifter was instructed either to sing or play an instrument. Nowadays, they still keep the tradition ongoing, amplifying the range to teach different performing arts.(In private, he has briefly fancied the most likely options; Jimin would make a terrific dancer, for he has the lithe carriage and feathery footwork for it, but also the loveliest singer, because his voice could rival and surpass a whole angel choir, in Taehyung’s opinion.He tries steering away from the image of Jimin’s cute, small hands being dexterous around a flute, or a trumpet, or a saxophone. Anyway-)All above are facts publicly known. However, they outline the fabulous pinnacle of success of a cultural center, Taehyung considers, and not the posh calaboose that is gradually unraveling its claws as they are exposed to the rules for non-human visitors.Upon climbing down the stuffy van, they are approached by a team of zookeepers carrying tranquilizer guns, and who surely know how to make someone feel welcome with their condescending attitudes. They lecture Jisoo, Chaeyoung and Baekhyun—the streak’s assigned veterinarian—, about their lack of regards for the strict policies of the menagerie, and once they feel satisfied with their guardians’ flustered states, they escort them to a waiting room where they give their staff the green light to—and Taehyung quotes— “doll your cats up for the party”. “Hold your breath. Ready?” He nonverbally answers with a nod, lax fists tightening as Jisoo leans in.A squishy whisper tickles his eardrums before the glands over each side of his jawbone sting, hissing ever so quietly, similar to when steam burns off the surface. The smell is atrociously pungent, enough to has his eyes watering. It is like kerosene with bleach and acetone and who-knows-what, and when he experimentally brushes his fingertips over the moist patches, he notes a viscous consistency, like tree sap. He gags, repulsed.The neutralizer is revolting, clearly created with the intent of wiping their signatures. It is nothing like Jimin’s mild scent-concealer, and Taehyung had disliked that enough.
This is for Jimin.
“Your hands, sweetie,” Jisoo carefully sprays each space between his fingers, and he forces down a gag as the pungent smell covers his scent points. “Only your tail left. Are you okay?” She gnaws her lower lip. “This formula’s been just recently patented, Taehyung. It’s practically experimental, so if you feel the slightest bit weird—”“I’m fine. Keep going,” he reassures. For Jimin, he can endure this.Jisoo sprinkles the garland of glands along his tail and disposes of the tiny flask with disgust. Next, she picks a black collar with the design of a standard detachable type, except this has a tacky square attached to it that constantly tick-tick-ticks, almost imperceptibly yet so hauntingly, beckoning the darkest tidbits from Taehyung’s childhood memories.
For Jimin. Even this.
He gulps. Loudly.She struggles to clasp it around his neck, hands too tremulous as they work the settings out. Taehyung swats the torrent of memories away. When she is done, she rearranges the neckline of his button-up, which bulges a little as if he had a clerical collar under it, and then fastens his black silky bow.In Smilodon, shock-collars have been long vetoed. Sometimes, Taehyung forgets the rest of the world is not as flexible as his home. He can still count his blessings: at least the one he has been forced to wear does not have piercing prongs, unlike those he used to carry when he was a cub.“Go join your coalition. And Taehyung, I’m serious—if any of you feel queasy, tell us,” she slams the visitor package case shut with more force than necessary. “I don’t trust these people. Be careful.”“Understood.”“You look handsome,” she winks. “Go get your boy, tiger.”He pats down his jacket pocket again, grins, and salutes her with two fingers against his forehead before knocking the door to be left out. It whooshes open and the security guard posted right outside gives him a once-over before nodding, not without rudely reminding him to behave.Taehyung sweeps a look over the small crowd until his eyes land on Seokjin’s broad shoulders, nicely complimented by his black jacket adorned with golden rose blossoms. His streak-mates are together already, aligned alongside a wall, suited up and sleekly styled for the occasion.Smilodon’s head curator, a middle-aged man whose name Taehyung does not really remember, awaits a few feet ahead, engaged in a conversation with a good-looking, wealthy couple.“Taehyung!” Hoseok spots him first and sprightly waves, a radiant grin taking half of his face, his lively floral jacket a visual oasis in a desert of bland formal attires. He seems in a better mood than before, which is incredibly relieving.Some of the guests nearby unabashedly turn to ogle, covetous gazes transfixed on his blunt ears and his exotic stripped tail. Taehyung knows that hunger, recognizes the ambition of a predator in those eyes that drip lust for power and control. These businessmen are nothing like the endearingly puerile tourists that tend to visit the park. These people are not to be entertained with mannerisms for cubs.He squares his shoulders and encounters their gazes fearlessly. He is not afraid of them. Not anymore.He is a predator, too. Taehyung ambles unhurriedly, grimacing once he is close enough to his streak and cannot trace their scents, not even after testing licking Hoseok’s wrist and curling his upper lip, exposing his front teeth and tilting his head a bit skyward to facilitate identifying the scent that should be there—humans say it is like an animalistic sneer, the cat stinky face, but it is more technical than that. Flehmening, their caretakers have called it.Still, his streak-mates remain no better than blurry, scentless figures for his numb senses. If anything, he has polluted his tongue with the anesthetizing taste of the neutralizer, and the worst thing is that the filthy thing lingers there, like some strong glue that resists to disintegrate.“I did the same to Namjoon,” Seokjin pipes up next to him, because of course, he would let Taehyung suffer with him, his white tail swinging amusedly against his mate’s knee. “It sticks like skunk spray. Try it: you can even lick it off your palate.”“Heads up next time, hyung,” he complains, glaring through watery eyes.“Can’t promise you anything.”“My collar itches,” Hoseok tugs at it, exposing a bit of the device right in the hollowness of his throat. “This thing’s pestering me—"“Good,” Seokjin deadpans. Hoseok rolls his eyes.“—I thought you said they had no scandals of mistreatment, Namjoon.”“They don’t,” Namjoon asserts, and exhales a tired sigh when he is met by the raised eyebrows of his entire coalition. “Two-thirds of the population don’t conceive shock therapy for therianthrope training as wanton cruelty, but a necessary measure to keep a threat in place.”A threat, the term resonates with finality. Training, criminals, beasts… Taehyung brushes his jacket pocket, over his heartbeat, where his handmade present is safe. For Jimin.“Right, because roasting someone with electricity isn’t abuse,” Hoseok grits. With shadow cast on his face, he wickedly jokes. “I think humans could use some training. To be more, I don’t know, human?”“Hoseok.”“Namjoon.”“Alright with the pissing contest,” Seokjin intervenes. “We’re not dogs. Behave.”Jeongguk makes a strangled noise in the back of his throat. He takes a cautious gander around, bleary eyes zigzagging from the high-ceiling red patterns to the gold lamps illuminating tapestries that show dragons and tigers battling against each other. He looks overwhelmed, and Taehyung cannot help but worry, moving to caress his cheek cautiously, apologetically.Jeongguk stares at their alpha quizzically. “So… what now?” He asks, bringing his tail up.It seems like he intends to stuff his mouth with it, but Seokjin squints his single-eye in a warning, and deters him. Jeongguk still snorts because Seokjin looks hilarious like that.“We stand-by. According to the program, their best artists will be performing every fifteen-minutes, with guest speakers talking during intervals before the main course served at eight,” Namjoon says, signaling for them to huddle close. “Mr. Kang’s going up almost at the end, and we’re expected to be with him and flash our pretty smiles. If we play our cards smartly, and portray the image he wants for Smilodon, he’ll grant us a few favors. I know what I have to ask him, so Taehyung might be able to meet Jimin.”“Sounds reasonable,” Hoseok mumbles.“Are we sticking to the plan, hyung?” Taehyung inquires, ears buzzing wildly, heart pumping harder. “Or is there anything else you have in mind?”“No. I still want you all to mingle. We’ll be surrounded by zookeepers and other therianthropes, some that frequent this place with their owners,” Namjoon crooks a modest smile. “They should know many things that’ll serve us. And I have no doubt you guys can charm anyone into talking about what actually happens in this forsaken hellhole.”“I look like a pirate,” Seokjin retorts. “Who’s going to take me seriously with this hideous thing?”“Hyung, you’d be the most beautiful one out there,” his mate consoles him and the bystanders groan in unison, breaking the formation. “I’m certain you can be a menace with or without it. Taehyung has witnessed a good share of disturbing things during his childhood, yet most of them would easily pale next to the dinner he walks in half an hour later.The entire décor of the salon has been put together to glitter. The intricate chandeliers hanging from the high-ceilings glow on every inch of the glossy tiles, over the bubbly champagne flutes and polished silverware, on every gold earring and sharp diamond ring, and even on faux pearly teeth and hawkish, inebriated eyes. Everything is glimmering in such impressive profligacy that it horrifies him. No corner is spared from the blinding light, no person untouched by it; even the delicate golden flowers sewn onto Taehyung’s jacket reflect, almost as intensely as the gold of the poles with chains that serve as centerpieces for the tables at the labeled pet section does.“This is ridiculous. They’re not—they’re not even trying”, Hoseok mutters to himself. “How can anyone be fine with his?”“Why are we sitting away from the humans?” Seokjin asks no one in particular, louder, his smile a little mean. Namjoon tenses. “Aren’t shifters here so their owners can determine whose dick’s bigger based on who has the most expensive pet?”“Shut it,” one guard tells him. Seokjin hums, and looks away with his chin held high.Being pushed inside the pet section is not the worst part, neither is having one of his wrists cuffed and linked to the middle post that emerges from the glass table (“at least it’s not our necks”, Namjoon optimistically observes, and though Taehyung agrees, Seokjin answers with a noncommittal glower—or at least tries to, considering his compromised eye). The wealthy guests that wander around, side-eyeing them with a voracity reserved for appetizers, are also awful, but not enough to compete with the present therianthropes and their blasé poise.It is unnerving, the bored gazes they have on as humans navigate around their tables and leer at them, the listless quality plaguing their every motion as some guests lean to ask them about their owners, and whether they are available for sharing. They look all stoic with their chains binding them to the table, with clicking collars encircling their necks, with the mist of that horrible neutralizer disabling their noses and tongues, turning their eyesight into a sensitive mess.Taehyung has been stripped of his own signature and the comforting familiarity of his streak-mates’ scents, and he can barely hold it together. He feels naked, and helpless, and rightfully furious. So, it terrifies him how the shapeshifters around him look so indifferent, so bleak. As if it were normal to be treated like this. Slaves, all of them.The only reason he says nothing is because he cannot risk being taken away. Even so, his tiger is chuffing, essentially vulnerable yet so ready to fend if targeted. It feels like his alter-ego wants to claw his way out of their body, as if trapped by their own skin and bones and flesh.They are forced to sit around a table for six, with a cat-girl clad in a fine sparkly gown occupying the last golden chair. Her grey eyes bore daggers into Jeongguk, who sits ramrod straight next to her and looks sick to death. Seokjin and Hoseok are in no better shape, studying their surroundings with pale faces. Namjoon, the only one who keeps constant contact with the world outside Smilodon Paradise, seems disappointed but hardly surprised. Taehyung’s stomach clenches.The event begins, and the swarm of humans invading their space scatter, returning to their tables at the other side of the golden rail.During the introductory speech, a tall, robust zookeeper approaches and checks their shock-collars, synchronizing them with his tablet and watch. Taehyung pretends he does not notice the ranges of electricity signals, pretends that his vision does not blur with painful shocks that have yet to happen. At least, the zookeeper has the decency to ask if they need anything. He even offers them alcohol.“Excuse me, but I demand to be moved to another table. I don’t trust wild ailuranthropes,” the cat-girl disdainfully declares, still fulminating Jeongguk. “They don’t have manners and reek of savageness—there’s even one-eyed. He must’ve lost his eye fighting over some viscera. Aren’t you worry about my wellbeing? They could easily overpower me.”Taehyung’s hair stands as Hoseok and Namjoon blink in alarm. Woah. A therianthrope bullying one of their kind. Spoiled little shit, Taehyung thinks.“You have no manners, little kitten,” Seokjin replies before the zookeeper can answer her request. He looks unimpressed. “I was going to compliment your puffy tail, but I suppose I don’t need to be polite if you’re just going to be an annoying bitch. I can be as savage as I please, can’t I? Well, thank you. That makes me think—do you know what lions like to do to tiny kittens like you, hm?”“Hyung,” Namjoon and Taehyung chorus, scandalized. Hoseok is chortling.“Will you let them talk to me like that?” She hisses at the human, tiny claws slicing the tablecloth. “I’m Mr. Jung’s favorite pet, a pureblood Persian. I deserve more than this—I shouldn’t be associated with beasts.”The zookeeper levels her a neutral look. “I’ll see what I can do. For now, enjoy the show.”Once he is out of hearing range, she turns to regard them with a sharp look, and intentionally knocks her water glass off with the back of her hand, drenching Jeongguk’s lap. A joint rumble passes through their chests in warning, eyes narrowing at her haughty smirk, bodies inching away from their chairs. Taehyung has to admit she is one gutsy bitch: not many would even attempt to withstand their ground against five wild ailuranthropes. Either that, or she is incredibly stupid and has no self-preservation.“Ah, sorry. Being around my hunter cousins must have triggered me. You understand the impulse, don’t you?”“You pathetic hellcat,” Seokjin sweetly insults. “Don’t be so immature. It does not look good on you, darling.”“You don’t know who I am,” she retorts. “I’ll watch my tone if I were you, you brute.”The snow leopard meekly reassures them, circumspectly glimpsing over his shoulder. Taehyung he is half-expecting the onlookers to grant them an electric shock for causing a ruckus. The thought sobers him enough to take a deep breath and back down, even as seething as her display of arrogance has left him. Too bad he is sitting the farthest away from her.Be the bigger cat, he can almost hear Seokjin’s silly pun.Before anyone else can do something to further worsen the animosity permeating their table, the piano on stage shimmers under a delicate floodlight, and the first performer is received with an exuberant round of applause. Taehyung is grateful for the distraction. He saw Hoseok picking his own glass of water in the corner of his eye, no qualms about retaliating.The male pianist that strolls into the stage is not very tall. His lean frame supports a white jacket with obsidian flowers that go well with his streak’s fashion-tendency for the night. The male’s hair is fluffy, in a whitish-grayish color range, and his tail and hairy is long, pretty much like Jeongguk’s. A fellow snow-leopard, then.He settles on the bench with expertise, and essays a quickly-executed, hair-raising arpeggio before starting his piece—a self-composition, the voice of the announcer creeps about the back of his head. He retains a ramrod posture, even as the movements of his svelte hands flow with passionate precision. He has closed his eyes in concentration, muscle memory and keen hearing guiding him through the ride. He plays like a master, his limbs dancing with the notes, his soul drifting away as his own music fills the hall with nitid colors, with strong emotions that be tasted. Taehyung is mind-blown.His repertoire lasts for fifteen-so minutes. It has no insipid second, no long pause, no instant to fully process and digest the phenomenon that occurs before them. A moment, he is in the midst of a suave, entrancing ballad, full of romantic lightness and delicious hope; then he slows down to a heartbreaking melody, melancholy and pain so raw that his guts become petrified, and he feels drowned under such depthless sea; and then he reverts to a more upbeat tempo, careful, a tentative treat for the ears, for any shaky heart in need of a friendly hand.And then—and then Taehyung’s brain short-circuits because the pianist is to be joined for his last piece. And, of course, his partner has to be Taehyung’s kryptonite.Blood churns like a hurricane inside him. It bursts veins and arteries, clogs his failing windpipes. The shock opportunely silences a chuff that almost escapes him. He vaguely stops on the thought that his chest cavity is bursting and ready to explode, too preoccupied admiring the silky mop of bluish hair under the bright lights. Jimin’s ears and tail are exposed, prim and shiny, adding to his ethereal look.
Jimin—
It is really Jimin. Jimin in all-black attire, his jacket deftly embellished with metallic patterns similar to dynamic mandalas. Jimin, with an odd smile that Taehyung’s brain soon acknowledges and stashes as fake. It is not that it looks insincere or terribly forced, but when it falters for an instant, Jimin’s comely visage is corrupted by a flicker of such genuine contempt that Taehyung doubts, for a disconcerting fraction of time, that he is the same lovely male from months ago.Regardless, Jimin is still as unearthly gorgeous, as striking and surreal and breathtaking as his memory has faithfully retained, and Taehyung knows that kind of enthralling beauty is one in a billion. His inner voice is a disaster, a strident mayday, mayday, mayday on a turbulent loop. An invisible pressure is throttling him, neck and chest aching badly.His streak-mates might be saying something, Namjoon is wondering something, but his rambunctious heartbeat drowns it all. He cannot find his voice to answer them, either way. He has really nothing useful to say.Jimin gets cozy on stage, with the grace of someone that fancies and dearly treasures the spotlight. And when he opens his mouth and sings, Taehyung understands why. In matter of seconds, many possibilities run through his mind—that he must have died of a heart attack, or blacked out after an electric shock, because there is no way that this is truly happening. No daydreaming, no fantastic fabrication could have ever prepared him for that earthshaking impact, because Taehyung was more than correct with his assumptions: Jimin is a terrific singer.He is not that very illustrated in poetry or human beliefs, but he thinks this is what paradise must sound like, so bafflingly euphonic. Jimin warbles with the sweetness of a night-gale and the power of an Asian koal, maybe even better than them, for his honeyed timbre is just too magnificent to be put into simple, insufficient words. The song has the soulful, soothing vibe of a lullaby. It is about a love meant to be, a love so powerful and profound, it even warrants the jealousy of the universe itself. It does nothing but blast Taehyung’s sharp yearning. Jimin hits every note with vivid sentiment, meaning every word, every deeply engraved feeling. He sings as if his live depended on it, as if it were the very last time he would be ever do it.That devotion carries until the end of the song, until his last exhale, and then, nothing, everything. A warm droplet hits his palm. Taehyung touches his cheeks without peeling his attention from the stage, wiping the thin dribbles a couple of tears have left during the performance.Jimin is so beautiful. So, so beautiful.Taehyung’s keen ears catch a sound nearby, a sniffle, that breaks the spell Jimin has cast on him. He has to forcefully pry his eyes away before blinking a few times, and glancing around the table. Hoseok, Seokjin and Namjoon heartily applaud the duo now bowing to the audience, mesmerized smiles drawn on their lips, showing off their glistening teeth. Even the pesky, rude Persian cat-girl looks dazed, eyes a little misty as she reluctantly claps.Taehyung looks at Jeongguk then, and the sizzling happiness capering around his heart is demoralized with brutality. The snow leopard is silently sobbing, watery eyes pinned to his lap as he tries resisting the strong sentiment threatening to squash him.“Guk-ah?” Taehyung rasps, gentle, shaken, entirely torn. “I can’t smell you, but—are those happy tears, Guks? Emotional? Hey, talk to me—”But his friend looks in pain. In so much pain.Jeongguk hurtles a disjointed sentence, and then a painful guttural sound, and attempts to cover it by clamping a trembling hand against his mouth. Taehyung reacts on autopilot. Instantly, he is yanked back in place by the goddamned gold chain, for its heavy length makes it impossible for him to waltz around the table to scoop Jeongguk up.
Right.
He eyes the stage, where Jimin and the pianist—Taehyung has missed his name—are disappearing behind the thick curtain. This is what plummeting to hell straight from heaven must feel like.He pointlessly jerks his trapped wrist again, feeling the frustration that overcomes him to the very tip of his disquiet tail. One disgruntled curse is all it takes to bring Namjoon out of his reverie, and their alpha snaps his fingers at both Hoseok and Seokjin when he finds an anguished Taehyung pitifully fussing over a grief-stricken Jeongguk at the other end of the table, an invisible barrier between them.Hoseok, sitting at Jeongguk’s other side, scoots his chair closer. “Hey, it’s okay. Breathe with me—”“Jeongguk—” Namjoon is both apprehensive and confused. “Jeongguk-ah, what’s the matter? Why are you crying?”“What on Earth did you do now?” Seokjin fires, glaring at the cat-girl, trimmed nails brushing his glass.The obnoxious girl scoffs. “Don’t get your panties on a twist. I have nothing to do with that—” She gestures with a patronizing wave to Jeongguk. Then, a tiny smirk curves the corner of her red-painted smile. “Unfortunately.”“You better excuse yourself before I rip your pretty—”Taehyung ignores the rest, focusing on his friend. The snow leopard is ashen pale, his tail looks puffy, and his entire demeanor screams fright. Taehyung assiduously scans the perimeter to see if anyone suspicious lingers nearby. Perhaps someone approached Jeongguk with revolting demands, or maybe the snow leopard caught a glimpse of some regular attendant of his fights. Taehyung knows that not even a third part of the people responsible for Jeongguk’s slavery were arrested the day the pit was raided and closed, and only a handful of those were actually sentenced to jail.He watches, but all humans look the same to him. Pompous. Egocentric. Busy. Fuck, fuck, fuck—“That’s—” Jeongguk starts. “The snow leopard—”The streak leans closer.“He’s—it’s my—” Resolve seems to abandon him at once, and Jeongguk slumps weakly against his chair, uncharacteristically disillusioned, defeated. “It’s… It’s hyung. Yoongi-hyung.”“Who?” Taehyung blurts.A heavy pause, the heaviest ever between them. The gears creak inside his feverish head. Half of his frazzled mind is full of Jimin, Jimin, Jimin on repeat. The other half is struggling to recapitulate, fish out the name from the dusty corners of his memory.Then, the most wicked epiphany hits him. The ground quakes.
Yoongi-hyung’s supposed to be dead.
Taehyung has no way to testify that other than Jeongguk’s displays of sorrow and deep-seated fury when reminiscing his past, and not the two-year long hell that was the fighting pit from where he barely made it alive, but the colorful times from before he was kidnapped and sold as prized object. Yoongi-hyung always starred those erstwhile stories.Judging by their pale faces, their streak has also realized the severity of the situation. “Guk-ah—”“Give me a second,” he breathes out harshly, hands propelled at either side of the shiny bowl-like sink, messy bangs covering his eyes as his head lolls forward. “I can’t—I can’t think straight. Just a second.”Taehyung and Hoseok exchange a furtive glance, mirroring frowns contorting their features. They do not probe, quietly observing as Jeongguk struggles with the raging myriad of feelings bursting through his veins, attempting to drag him into an emotional frenzy.Hoseok quietly peeks at again, and the tiger knows his hyung is stuck in the same predicament as him, trying to discern whether this occurrence is a serendipitous coincidence, or a cruel calamity.Over the years, they have knitted the backstory from unclear tidbits, because those were all Jeongguk was capable of offering. As far as they know, their maknae was born in a secluded sanctuary in the depths of the Himalayas, somewhere between Nepal and China. He has no memories of anyone but a handful of warm-hearted monks that fed him and provided shelter for him, and the other youngest snow leopard that lived in the temple, a male four years older than him. Yoongi. Jeongguk thinks that they were both named by a half-Korean shaman visitor, but he is not completely sure.The very counted times Jeongguk has opened up about their time together, he spoke about Yoongi with nothing but steady, utmost devotion; Taehyung was positive that if Yoongi had ever told Jeongguk that the sky was red, Jeongguk would have believed him with blind faith. But tragedy stroke sooner than later. When Jeongguk was around twelve, their home was found by foreign scientists coming from America, and that regrettably exposed their location to the world. A year later, the sanctuary was profaned by poachers. Yoongi was shot and supposedly taken as a trophy, and Jeongguk was captured and later auctioned, bought by a representative of an illegal fighting ring.“It wasn’t beating. His heart—it wasn’t beating. It wasn’t,” Jeongguk iterates, mostly to himself, head hanging too low.The tiger stoops and takes a surreptitious glance from a new angle, and notes with a splintering heart how the snow leopard has his eyelids tightly shut, how he is snarling to himself in sheer contempt.“I tried to hide under his—under him.”Hoseok sighs. “Jeongguk—”“I couldn’t feel it. It was so—so quiet. I was soaked and he reeked of iron. I thought—” His expression changes to something calm, but hard. “I came to terms with that. His heart wasn’t beating”, Jeongguk’s wavering tone cracks, his tail swaging before winding along his leg. He raises his head with the saddest smile they have ever seen on him. “But he’s here. There. Somewhere. And he’s alive. Somehow.”Taehyung croaks, “Guks-”“Hyung,” he murmurs, ears folded down, reticent, closed-off. “That’s—it’s Yoongi-hyung. It’s him.”Taehyung stares fixedly at him. How?, he mouths.“How can you be so sure?” Hoseok voices out, on his behalf. “It’s been years, Jeongguk. What if you’re mistaking him?”“I’m not. It’s him! And his tail”, Jeongguk remarks without hesitance, baring his fangs at Hoseok with an upsurge of indignation. The cheetah is unfazed. “Yoongi-hyung had—has a kinky tail. He used to fall asleep everywhere, and once got it all trampled. It never healed well. It…”Taehyung’s heartstrings tighten. “You… don’t seem…” He feels like he is ungainly guzzling down acid and not oxygen, hence the awkward pauses. He considers staying quiet, but he needs to understand. “Um… very happy. If it’s your Yoongi-hyung, shouldn’t you be ecstatic?”Jeongguk’s shoulders tense up, and his expression tightens. He takes a while to answer, opening his mouth and closing it again, as if language were an unwieldy tool. His visage turns more morose.“I can’t tell him about—ah, I can’t,” he mutters, staring down at his hands as if they were stained, and Taehyung just knows what he is imaging. Jeongguk closes his fists and sighs dolefully. “It’s been years. The last thing he needs is to have the kid who used to idolize him years back barreling into his life, now a well-known skilled slayer of his own kinship,” he spats spitefully. “Maybe I should just—”“What’s with that self-deprecating tone, Jeongguk-yah?,” Hoseok interrupts him, crossing his arms and pinning the same hard, pointed look on him that Taehyung has received that momentous morning. “You know what happened wasn’t your fault. You were just a freaking kid, and you did what you had to do in order to survive. You’re not a monster—you’re a fighter. If someone can’t get it, then they can fuck off. You haven’t made it this far to just go back to wallowing in guilt and beating yourself for something you had no control whatsoever.”Jeongguk’s bushy tail rustles specks from the squeaky-clean tiles. Taehyung carefully nudges him, knocking their hips together.“Guk-ah, how could he not be happy about seeing you again? You were his family—his leap,” it is the first time Taehyung has said leap without streak, and it resonates a little strange. Incomplete. He still continues, soft-spoken. “Even if you’re different people in different places now, you still—well”, he flounders for the simplest way to express it, “you share a happy past together. You cherish those memories, right? So why wouldn’t your hyung, too?”“Plus, your hyung apparently knows this Jimin guy”, Hoseok gestures to him. Taehyung automatically wrinkles his eyes with a bewitched smile, hand hovering over his heart. “We’ll be killing two birds with one stone. Merry reunions for everyone at this godforsaken hell.”Jeongguk simpers, batting his eyelashes and shaking his head to get rid of the tears accumulating on his eyes. He does not look entirely convinced, but at least looks a little less inconsolable than before. Color is returning to his cheeks.Hoseok observes him with a softened gaze, sliding closer to rest a hand over his shoulder and squeeze it comfortingly.Taehyung relaxes, blinking slowly. “I think a past like that deserves to have a proper closure, Guks. It’d do you both good.”“But… how? I don’t think we can trust humans here,” Jeongguk cinches his eyebrows together, tapping his collar and the plastic underneath. “These have trackers. All zookeepers look at us like we’re plague. I doubt they’re going to let us wander around, let alone interact with their stars or whatever, even if Mr. Kang owes us a favor—”“Yah, you impatient brat. We stick to Namjoon’s plan. Haven’t you learned anything about your hyungs? Why are you underestimating us?” Hoseok arches a brow.Jeongguk falls quiet for a moment.“Well, I’ve learned that Namjoon-hyung and Seokjin-hyung, despite their old-couple dynamics, are a force to be reckoned with. Taehyung wears his heart on his sleeve, even he really shouldn’t, and that you’re a scaredy-cat, Hobi-hyung. Quite literally,” Jeongguk teases, displaying a very tiny yet so insolent smirk. Hoseok automatically smacks his head and Taehyung laughs nervously, surprised, and anxious. “But it’s true! Remember that time Namjoon-hyung hung the head of Tae’s first buffalo kill and you thought it was haunted?”“He couldn’t enter the old living room for weeks”, the tiger supplies, genuinely glad that Jeongguk is recovering from the shock.“That shit fell on me, and I swear it fucking moved every time I walked in—of course I was going to be wary,” Hoseok groans when he realizes he has bit their bait, and dismisses the matter with a gesture. “And damn it, I’m trying to be serious. Listen to your hyung,” he pulls Jeongguk’s ear with an exasperated smile before adding, “as I was saying, don’t take us so lightly. I could bet my fur that Namjoon and Jin-hyung have already swayed someone to get you backstage.”“Or to replace that Persian cat-girl,” Taehyung comments offhandedly. His streak-mates snort.Hoseok continues with a lopsided smile. “The sole reason we’re here is because Taehyung’s lovesick. Do you really think we wouldn’t go to this extend for you as well?”“We would,” Taehyung nods, beaming. “We totally will.”Before the snow leopard can answer, one of the security guards who have escorted them to the bathroom area rams the door with his fist. The vigor of it startles them, pulling their tails up in a funny synch. Taehyung snarls without meaning to.“Time to head back!”“Are they timing us or what? Because that’s—fuck,” Hoseok grumbles. “This place makes me want to pick up fights so badly. Cheetahs aren’t even aggressive!”They attach themselves to Jeongguk, annoying him by rubbing the cold tip of their noses to either side of his cheeks, and step outside cautiously. Taehyung’s vicious alter-ego roars inside at the sight of the guard. He gulps down another nauseous wave. Turns out, Jimin is not only an incredible singer, but is as spectacular dancer as well.They are being guided back to their table at the same time Jimin struts into the spotlight cascading over the vacant stage, attired in a traditional long vest with bright patterns, black trousers and a white shirt of flimsy fabric. The blue hue of his hair and tail shines like silk under the dazzling illumination.Around them, the room has gone silent, and Taehyung is once again reminded of how Jimin’s presence is so overpowering, so captivating, so superb.The Bengal tiger has barely reached his seat when the ebullient music starts. Instruments shape a gradual, elegant rhythm, an old festivity of strings, wind and percussion that evokes traditional sounds once heard by court members.His pulse freezes once Jimin starts cavorting, with an elegant technique and such cathartic zest for it. Taehyung’s ember eyes widen in wonder, his jaw slackens, his knees abruptly wobble. The guard is jabbing a taser against his waist while he secures the chain over his wrist, and Taehyung forgets to feel aggrieved as Jimin’s slender frame dallies with the music, possessed by it. His movements are a sublime paradox: unrestrained yet sharp as if tugged by invisible strings, boneless yet so sturdy. He twists and jumps, arches down, swings with the lightness of a feather.Taehyung is not the finest dancer, not like Hoseok or Jeongguk at least, but he likes to join them every now and then, if only to shimmy and prance and make his streak-mates smile. And now, he would like to dance with Jimin. To make him smile, enjoy what Jimin is so utterly passionate about, even if it is just for a brief moment.Taehyung knows he is a goner.The guard forces him to sit down at last, and he is suddenly as manageable and supple as clay, falling silently on the cushion of the gold chair as the Maltese tiger prolongs the widespread bewilderment. Taehyung does not cry this time. His feverish brain is too stunned for that. Moreover, it would not be appropriate: Jimin’s dance is not heart-rending. No, it is passionate, artistic, intensely awe-inspiring. It is uplifting, and mesmerizing, and everything good that he would not dare to damp with his tears“Shit,” Hoseok murmurs once Jimin is done, breathing hard in the middle of the stage, twitchy ears up and tail suspended in interest as the ovation of hands begins, first shyly, then heatedly. Taehyung has no idea how long his act has lasted, but it feels too ephemeral. Not enough. “Shit. That’s your lover boy, Taehyung? No wonder you’re so head over heels—not many can move like that.”“Watch out, Tae, you have competition”, Namjoon jokes, sounding a bit breathless himself. Jimin was—is—that good.“I’d only be interested in having him in my team,” Hoseok shows him a mischievous grin. “He’s all yours.”Taehyung lowers his gaze to play with the necklace he has not noticed taking out of his pocket. After a moment of consideration, he looks up at his streak-mates with newfound resolution (the Persian cat-girl is nowhere to be found, fortunately, so he can save himself from her uncalled-for judgment).“We have to talk to them, hyung. Both Jimin and Yoongi-ssi.”They fall as silent as the grave, the speech of an important investor floating meaninglessly in the back. Seokjin and Namjoon turn to gauge Jeongguk’s guarded expression, his conflictive eyes, the hard pull of his lips. They dissect him throughout, grave, defensive. Bless Jeongguk, who does not falter and stares back with nothing but pain and determination.Around them, waiters and waitresses bring out delicate plates—bowls made of luxurious China, filled with rice, juicy meat and plain vegetables—on silver plates, and start distributing dinner for the pets in the animal section. Taehyung has no appetite.“I have an idea,” Namjoon begins, cautious, calculative. “It requires a change of plans. I can’t guarantee it’d be successful, though—this entire place functions strangely. When I checked the program, I didn’t see Jimin’s Silvermist pseudonym in the list of performances. When he walked onto the stage, they introduced him as Jangmi. I have yet to figure what that could possibly entail—if Jimin in particular has a variety of aliases, or if they are purposefully keeping his identity somehow protected for another reason.”“Suga,” Jeongguk murmurs, sullen, contemplative. “They called Yoongi-hyung Suga. It sounds—”Bad, goes unsaid. Taehyung winces to himself. Nothing sounds good in this place, not after the whore insult thrown at Jimin at Smilodon’s museum.The white lion steers the conversation from that path, “listen, our little angry kitten said something interesting before throwing a tantrum and storming away to whine to her owner about her brute, wild bullies.”“I was just wondering where she might have gone,” Hoseok hums, too cheeky, too pleased. “Did you accidentally inflict revenge now, hyung?”“I didn’t waste any water on her, if that’s what you’re asking,” Seokjin quips. Taehyung leans in with curiosity, momentarily sidetracked.“What did you do, hyung?”“Why are you assuming I did anything—”Namjoon rolls his eyes at that. Busted.“He shammed this entire ridiculous act—started telling me that his ‘pus-eaten’ eye was hurting him, that he wanted me to check it, and rambled about how it was a good thing that I had been vaccinated against—what did you call it?”“Necromantic eye virus,” Seokjin squeaks laughter out. “Details, Joon, always pay attention to them—they’re the best part. The most crucial, too.”“Yes, that. He pretended that’s extremely contagious, that simple exposure to it could be mortal for unvaccinated subjects, that he’ll need surgery soon because antibiotics weren’t helping him anymore,” Namjoon is pretending he is not impressed, but the twinkle in his eyes and the way he keeps looking at Seokjin’s profile is self-betraying. “You really didn’t hear it? She practically screamed bloody murder when Jin-hyung brushed his eye-patch, got all hysterical until a zookeeper came and offered to take her back to her owner.”“She messed with the wrong group of misfits.”“See, hyung? The eye-patch wasn’t so—”“I dare you to finish that, Hobi.”“Guys,” Taehyung waves a hand to get their attention back into topic. “But what did she say?”“Ah, yes,” their leader’s posture changes, becoming firmer. “She mentioned that they ‘release the beasts at night’ here, screeched at us that we should participate in the last event of the night to put our savageness into good use.”“Participate?”“It’s a lucrative tradition, apparently, but not so openly advertised. It’s the non-official closure of this event. An ‘exhibition hunt’,” Namjoon elaborates, eyebrows pinched together. Taehyung wonders if it is consider cruelty to make fun of their complex necessities as shifters. “Jisoo came by after you left. She wanted to check what happened with you three, since the zookeepers in charge of us informed her about Jeongguk’s discomfort, and we asked her about it. Then, we requested her to tell Mr. Kang that he would like to enter the hunt.”Jeongguk frowns. “What?”“What do you mean?”“What’s that thing about?”“Well…” It is madness. That is what it is.Megatherium houses around three hundred and so therianthropes, and half of them are of predatory roots. The exhibition hunt is a contest meant for them. The humans throw the different packs mixing wolves, wild dogs and hyenas against the menagerie’s beautiful pride of lionesses and their strange group of half-chimpanzees. Loner hunters—such as foxes, bears, and some fellow big cats—, are also welcome to participate, but their lack of support is an evident disadvantage that could cost their lives. Which, according to Namjoon, is part of the thrill. Not for them, but for the humans in attendance.For the exhibition hunt, zookeepers release the therianthropes in the depts of the humongous gardens of the fortress, which could be better described as a fenced forest of almost seven hundred hectares. The winner gets rewarded for seizing the common objective, usually a bunch of either agile-chunky ruminants, or feisty big birds. Only on special occasions—such as Megatherium’s past anniversaries—the predators are pushed to track and kill lethal stout tanks like hippos, rhinos or elephants (which is rather terrifying because no shapeshifter in their right mind would willingly mess with hippos, rhinos or elephants—that is not how the food chain works, Taehyung knows).The guests of the charity event are moved to a well-positioned veranda to watch, and are invited to place bets and follow the progress of their participants via camera drones. Taehyung holds no doubt that they have the time of their lives, sipping their glistening drinks and snacking on delicate foods while the beasts endanger themselves to win. He is familiar with the morbid curiosity of humans, grew up hearing the excited shouts and thundering applause while choking with a tight beep-beep-beeping around his neck.Cunning Namjoon has proposed to take advantage of the situation. His game plan is very simple.“The zookeepers take the shock-collars off during the chase because they tend to jeopardize tactics, given how easily they can be detected by keen ears,” he explains as they undress in the privacy of a tent, changing into shaggy shirts and shorts that will easily tear apart once they shift.Outside, the excitement and power-thirst are palpable, a mayhem of exhilaration and bloodlust. They have been administered a strong dose of some drug to abate the effects of the neutralizer, and their noses and tongues are recovering fast. A new light has been shed on his foggy mind. Taehyung can already perceive the faint hints of his brothers’ scents, and they have never smelled as good to him.“Hoseok, Seokjin and I’ll provide coverage so you two can sneak out once it begins. Go to the main building, try to find Jimin and Yoongi, sort it out as quickly as possible. We have a time limit of two hours, so don’t waste time.”Taehyung’s erratic heart is skipping beats. He is dying to be near Jimin, to ask him how he is doing and why he is back in Megatherium, why he is not with Mrs. Bae somewhere else. He would like to praise him, to tell him how majestic and talented he is, and how he has inspired him to paint so many new things, to create and convey such strong emotions, after watching him perform. He might have to calm down before he ends up confessing he wants to nip Jimin’s soft-looking neck, and nuzzle his scent glands, and peck those lips in a pout, maybe bite them a bit. Hoseok detects his desire, and scowls. “I swear to God, Taehyung, stop daydreaming and focus. This isn’t the time nor the place to be horny.”He huffs.“What will you do?” Jeongguk asks, frowning in worry. His doe eyes look too wild. “Tae-hyung’s the stellar member of the hunting party. Without him—I’m not saying you don’t stand a chance, but—”Namjoon chuckles. “That’s exactly what you’re saying.”“No, hyung, but—”Taehyung licks his lips, tail curling in contentment with the indirect flattering.He grins. “You think I’m the stellar member of the hunting party? I’m so happy, Guk-ah.”“That’s because I’m still not part of it,” the snow leopard responds, rattled.“We’ll fool around until someone kills the prize—keep Namjoon away from any body of water, too,” Seokjin answers him. “But I’m glad to know you have such faith in your hyungs, though.”“Namjoon-hyung always says that there’s strength in numbers, and they have packs of hyenas, which are known to beset lonely lions and bother cheetahs, so I thought-”“Look at Gukkie, all worried about us”, Hoseok coos, pinching his cheek.“I hate you all—fine! Just go and get trampled by hyenas, see if I care.”The four of them reply in unison, “but you do.”They tease him, but Jeongguk’s concerns are not unfounded. The risks of this hunt are high, even when it is presumably a friendly exhibition. It has nothing friendly, however. Injuring fellow opponents is permissible. Everything is, apparently.Because of this, Jisoo and Chaeyoung have thrown a fit at their request to partake in, but Smilodon’s opportunistic, ambitious curator saw it as a great opportunity to advertise their park, and flaunt their unique aggrupation. The discussion backstage after Mr. Kang’s speech has been quite turbulent, but their caretakers were forced to accept. If you wish to preserve your jobs, was the unspoken threat that had the entire streak growing tense.After that, they have begrudgingly wished them the best luck, scrambling with shaky steps to make last-minute arrangements.Taehyung feels guilty for troubling them both like that, but—this is for Jimin. It has to be done.A pair of Megatherium’s zookeepers bide in the tent with them, along with their caretakers. Jisoo and Chaeyoung are instructed to fasten weighty leashes around their necks as the protocols to follow in case any of them ends severely wounded are explained to them. All Taehyung understands from their fancy, ornamented speech is that you get yourself injured, you hope is not too critical and find how to get the hell out of it; your veterinarian will take care of the rest.The zookeepers are inconveniently arrogant, and Taehyung’s temper flickers, and flickers, and flickers.The tense ambience becomes unbearable when their favorite human ladies are handed silvery muzzles. “This type of coalition’s deviant behavior,” one of the men say, and his tone is awful. “Who knows what else you could’ve triggered by allowing this—for all we know, they’re also man-eaters.”Man-eaters! As if humans were that delectable...They bristle together, narrowing their eyes and smashing their tails against the pebbled ground in fury.Jisoo rolls her eyes, unyielding. “I’d consider more deviant behavior the bestiality you parade in here, having your guests and peers, all humans, preying on non-human shapeshifters that are held in captivity not by choice, but necessity. Those are the kind of deviants you should have muzzled. None of my boys would ever give you a time of the day were they out in the wild, you know?”Taehyung’s eyes shine in pleasure when the zookeeper’s eyes flash with irritation. Chaeyoung chokes on her spit, and her scents turns bitter with mortification. Seokjin and Hoseok have to muffle their content purrs, and Jeongguk looks ready to claw at his face in distress.“Watch it, you yappy bitch,” the man threatens. And when they rumble in anger, the other zookeeper gives them a pointed look that has them tensing. “You’re under our jurisdiction right now. Don’t play a game you’re not fit to withstand.”Before any more antagonism can be expressed between the humans, Namjoon valiantly accepts being muzzled first, appeasing the disagreement. Jisoo’s face falls, and Chaeyoung trembles when seeing the man’s pleased grin. They all hate it, but it is a matter of loyalty that they quickly proffer their chins, too, so their alpha is not alone dealing with these despicable humans’ orders. By the end of it, Jisoo is caressing Taehyung’s forehead with motherly care, eyes a bit watery when studying the muzzle.She leans over to whisper, “I don’t know what you have in mind, but this better be worthy.”He nods. For Jimin, always. Another two groups of therianthropes, two packs of wolves, stand apart with a considerable gap between them when his streak-leap-coalition arrive at their assigned exit. They shrink as they see them, sniffing their scents, growling and yelping and moving away. Taehyung feels a little vexed. The pendant around his neck grounds his sanity.
This is for Jimin. All of this.
And then, as if on cue, the floral scent assaults him with enough force to almost make him tumble. It is a meek whiff drifting around, and yet it affects him so terribly.No—Taehyung brusquely twirls to his right, the metal of his restraints clacking obnoxiously, gaining his streak’s attention. He prays against it, but it is useless. Jimin enters the perimeter, walking next to Yoongi. The lampposts provide enough clarity to see that both look terribly woeful and distraught, more Jimin than Yoongi. Taehyung’s breath gets stuck in the middle of his throat, his face runs out of color and his stomach abruptly drops to the depths of the earth.The pair stops at the farthest end, so a whole pack of noisy wolves stands between Taehyung’s streak and the beautiful Maltese tiger.Why are they alone—“So, they’re the unlucky ones this year?” One of the zookeepers keeping them at bay tuts. Taehyung’s bloodstream is scorching, his mind going miles per minute to think of a solution. “How much was paid for them to get in?”The zookeeper in charge of Namjoon whistles.“Nearly eight million for each one.”What—He turns with desperate eyes to his alpha, who is looking discomposed. Behind him, his streak-mates are fretful and unnerved. “Excuse me,” Namjoon clears his throat, and the pair flinches but regards him anyway, reluctantly so. Articulating seems painful with the metal mask thwarting the movements of his jaw. “We were told there was no admission fee.”One of the guys sneers. “There isn’t.”Namjoon frowns, his black tail flapping in exasperation. “Then… why would anyone pay sixteen million to be allowed in?”One of them laughs and it angers Taehyung so much because it sounds condescending, even worse than before.“You see, almighty thing. Every year, the investors of the castle offer to pay a certain amount of money to make any therianthrope that has refused to enter the contest participate. They compete against each other, and who offers the highest sum wins. Mrs. Bae, who could bankroll Megatherium single-handled, asked for them. Funny thing, considering that the tiger’s her favorite plaything.”
What the hell.
A shrill alarm blasts. “Time to go.”Madness indeed.
suga's snow leopard inspiration
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The dozen wolves around them shift to sturdy quadrupeds in a flurry of cracking bones and pained groans. They hurtle ahead on a frenzy, growling and barking, so needlessly unruly. His streak-mates observe their scandal with rigid expressions, a faithful mirror of his own for sure. The stress serves to straighten their tails and make their fingertips itch to extract sharp claws. They quash down the urge to vocalize their displeasure with a spontaneous deep breath, all inhaling in unison, slow, profound.
These puppies have no manners.
The canine predators’ lack of finesse results truly appalling. It tempts Taehyung to chase them down, to stomp a strong paw over their snouts so they quieten down, to teach them how a proficient hunter tracks and kills with stealth, with patience, with skill to forgo detection.And oh, he muses in surprise, soft ears twitching as a sudden revelation dawns upon him. His dormant tiger is fully raising now, having regained his rather imperious, daring drive. It has been a bit dulled lately, flickering like a flame that struggles to survive a blizzard. Having him back is both enthralling and a little nerve-racking.Maybe Jimin’s influence runs deeper than what he had first imagined.
Speaking of whom…
Jimin drags Yoongi away with him as the commotion erupts. Their feline stealth presenting at its best as they leap over voluminous stones and slip into the dense foliage, their tails slithering like gracious snakes through the wall of leaves as they hurry out of sight.Wait, Jimin—Taehyung thoughtlessly steps forward, blinded by the desirous urge to break loose and follow them, follow him, but the unyielding leash snaps with a strident slapping sound. He is forcefully hauled backward, a furious hiss dying off as he chokes on air and spit.Hoseok and Jeongguk attempt drawing themselves closer to him, compelled to check if he has been wounded somehow, but they are subjected to the same unkind treatment. Taehyung watches as they are yanked back with brutality and feels his skin prickling at the furious tension clogging the air.“Why are you restraining us?” Hoseok manages to spew, tail swishing rapidly as his temper, much like Taehyung’s, fires up. “The hunt’s already begun. Let us go!”“Down, you menace. Residents have preference over unwanted guests. You don’t get any of your weird privileges here, you hear me?”Taehyung peels his teeth and snarls at the patronizing attitude. His response does more harm than good, however, for the tight setup of the muzzle chafes the skin around his jaw, making the entire bone ache.His tiger spirals down into a mad episode and he blanks for a moment. His alter ego scuffles to be released, keeps Taehyung’s sanity on a delicate edge. It gets harder and harder to stifle his tiger’s burning anger. It is a battle difficult to resist it.“Complain as much as you like. Rules are rules, baby tiger.”Taehyung is nothing but willing to at least indulge in the pleasure of drawing his claws out and causing their tormentors a good scare by swatting his hand and slicing through the flimsy fabric of their pants. He would not harm gravely them, not intentionally.Regardless, he restrains himself, and not because there is any scrap of deference in him left for the pretentious zookeepers, but because of Namjoon’s poised presence.His alpha interjects with a low vocalization, a groan that harbors a faint resemblance to his roar. It is the resonance of a ruthless might the silly humans could never understand, could never respect. It comes as wordless warning for them, for the streak-coalition-leap. Stay put, it implicitly orders.And though Taehyung’s stubbornness is almost physically suffocating, he sits back and awaits a new order. He knows Jimin is getting away, but he is still close, he is still trackable—and that is enough to appease the wrath he feels simmering within.“This one’s rather feisty, right? This is why we don’t like tigers in here. So problematic.”Taehyung remains cooperative even as the barrel of a tranquilizer gun is pointed at his neck, because of course these barbarians would shoot him in a vital point where from every caretaker advises to stay clear.The weapon shimmers under the moonlight, lethal, provocative. Tt vaguely resembles one long, huge fang, and the sole idea irks him, has his instincts roaring inside. Taehyung spares a second of lucidity to toy with that idea that maybe the drugs they have been administering him are having a negative side-effect before the back of his head pounds.His tiger awakening with such terribly quarrelsome drive should be proof enough.After what feels like hours, his zookeeper undoes the tight belt around his neck and releases him. The man stands back after the muzzle falls limp, sliding off his face and bouncing against the gravel as Taehyung gingerly tries standing on his feet. The tranquilizer gun still follows his every movement.Taehyung raises a hand to massage the bruised jaw. The friction has left a tiny garland of tender skin that sting badly when he examines the damage. He huffs in annoyance.
This was so unnecessary.
“Good luck, Smilodon’s pride.”“We’re a coalition,” Hoseok and Seokjin correct sharply.“A leap,” Jeongguk murmurs through gritted teeth.Taehyung scoffs. “A streak.” “Whatever—just scram, you little beasts.”Seokjin steps forward. “I’m sorry, I think I misheard what you called us—”But he does not listen to the rest of the sentence. Taehyung wastes no time and scurries in the direction he has seen Jimin disappearing, overhasty and desperate.“Wait—Taehyung!”The thought of meeting the Maltese tiger urges him onward. Jimin, who is near, so touchable, and real, who is no longer a projection in a bittersweet dream or the subject of a fading memory, but a corporeal entity within his reach. Lovely Jimin, with his divinely fragrant scent, and his wonderful talents, and a sort of questionable luck—he is somewhere close. Taehyung is not losing him. Not again.His instincts are his foremost guide. He devotedly follows the distant crouching of grass, coupled with certain whispers carried by the wind, because he just knows it is him. He dodges clusters of copses, vaults over fallen trunks, skirts moody puddles without an ounce of reason, without letting his senses fully register the information, simply advancing by basic intuition.Whenever he finds himself somewhat adrift, as if a passing cloud shrouded his north star, he fully relies on his sensory setup. He brushes his nose along leaves or pieces of wood, licking anything that might steer him back into the right path, and Mother Nature does not fail him. Either Jimin is not using his concealer tonight or the chemicals are losing its potency because he can trace the lingering taste of his scent everywhere.Perhaps that is another consequence of the chemicals that have been screwing his nervous system all day long: enhancing his potential-mate radar (Namjoon would refer to it as his sexual drive, but that is beside the point).His heart longs for the Maltese tiger in a way it has not yearned for anything in years.Jimin, he is—He catches a svelte silhouette outrunning him on his periphery, speeding like a bullet as it zigzags around trees. For a second, he ponders if it would be worthy striving to try outrunning it, to be faster, but he knows it would be pointless. He slows down. Hoseok’s cheetah leaps and blocks the path ahead, cautiously stooping with one of his paws suspended midair, head stretched forward.Taehyung stares blankly at him. Hoseok’s cognac gaze is burning with resolution, hard and piercing, and even though he cannot roar to intimidate anyone, his sole presence is a thundering alarm.He shuffles impatiently. The cheetah before him bleats.“Hyung, please… move. They’re getting away.”Hoseok plants his butt down with finality, peeling his teeth.“Hyung.”Hollow footfalls surge from behind.“Your priorities all are over the place—stop thinking with your dick,” Seokjin snaps, voice restrained, letting out a little pant. He is tense and widely alert, flinching just the slightest when Namjoon and Jeongguk reach them from behind. “I get that you’re blowing off a day’s worth of pent-up fury—we’re all probably ready to combust at how worked up this place’s gotten us, honestly—but come on, Taehyung. Racing off alone isn’t very smart. Scratch that—it’s plain stupid.”The tiger shifter lifts his fingers to graze the cold necklace dangling against his collarbones, and his limbs shudder at the same time his tail tremors.“Hyung—”“Taehyung, please, listen.”Namjoon’s warm hands come to knead his shoulders. His sweetened scent is pleasant, sympathetic, protective. It serves to comfort him, to calm him down. It has him blowing some steam.His alpha looks him straight in the eye, blinks languidly at him, and Taehyung responds by copying him. It makes the lion crack a careworn smile and Taehyung mimics that as well, though his must have appear an awful hybrid between a grimace and a shaky simper.“We have to approach this situation sensibly. You won’t get far by yourself—and I’m not saying this because I hold any doubts regarding your skills. But we’ve seen enough to know this place shouldn’t be trusted. We must stick together. No room for discussion.”“Teamwork’s the key to survival”, Jeongguk absently adds, rubbing his wrists. He is scanning the area through narrowed eyes, shoulders pulled hard, posture tremendously tight.Taehyung swallows back another complaint. He studies Jeongguk as he approaches the bark of a tree, as he leans forward with his chin slightly tipped up, his fluffy ears fluttering with a shudder once he separates Yoongi’s wine-tinged scent from Jimin’s—it is minty and strong like patchouli, but with a grapy flavor underneath.
Jimin…
The tiger grumbles, his ears folding in distress, but acquiesces defeat.His streak is right. It is foolish to be wandering alone in a place like Megatherium.Nights are hazardous out in the wilderness; Taehyung has learned that much the hard way, sports a collection of faded scars all over his ribs, thighs and back to remind him of his rookie mistakes. The thing is, back home, they are at least aware of what they could be facing during their patrols and hunting, have acquainted the dangers lurking within their own borders and beyond them.In comparison to that, this menagerie is no better than a labyrinth. It is an unfathomable battlefield, misleadingly innocuous with its flickering elegant lampposts and carefully designed cobbled pathways fencing unexplored squares of woodland. The ominous feeling of disadvantage is undeniable. They truly have no idea what could appear next.
And Jimin needs to fend for himself here—
“Let’s move. Conscientiously,” Namjoon emphasizes, dark eyes pinned on Taehyung. Seokjin nods and Hoseok chirps in agreement, and only their youngest fails to answer right away. They turn to face him at the same time, just as Namjoon whispers carefully. “Jeongguk-ah?”“Give me a second—” He gasps. “Just a second.”They comply without protest. Taehyung tries to control his breathing, to keep his anxious energy at bay.Hoseok cavorts over him, and Taehyung reaches to pinch one of his spotted ears. His hyung flexes his slim body, happily rubbing himself against his thigh, purring ever so-lightly. His tail dances with airy calmness and Taehyung lets himself be amused by his hyung’s energetic mood, chuckling raspy and low, scratching him behind the ear.“Humans are right about you, you know. You are an oversized cat with the heart of pup.”Hoseok hops away with a hiss, flapping his tail against Taehyung’s knee. He snorts.“Aw, Hobi-hyung, don’t be mad. I didn’t mean it as an insult—”“Guys, another thing,” their alpha’s call dissolves any glee with its earnest tenor. “Don’t shift unless it’s absolutely necessary. We don’t need to send the wrong message around here.”“These lunatics are going to target us even if we’re not doing much, you know,” Seokjin counters, too sober, his uncovered eye set on a point ahead he has been studying intently. “This place’s a madhouse, Joon, and we’re the outsiders. That’s naturally condemning.”His verdict meets no instant contradiction.“Hyung,” Namjoon drags a painful sigh out of his lungs.“Don’t look at me like I’m the enemy here. You know that better than I do.”Taehyung looks down at Hoseok, who is peering back at him. He offers a hand and his hyung scents the spaces between his fingers. Their alpha expels a croaky noise. “It won’t do us any good to dwell on that. This won’t last forever,” he shifts his posture, sharp eyes settling over the quiet, brooding snow leopard that has not moved an inch away from the tree. “Guk-ah? We need to get going. Are you ready?”Jeongguk uncurls his digits, then quickly folds them again. He drags a long sigh from his lungs.“Yoongi-hyung’s scent... it’s not changed much”, he shakes his head, and forces a small smile. “I’m… it’s good. I’m good.”Taehyung follows the lethargic waving of his long tail. It sweeps up and draws a content curve, the puffy black tip pointing down. Jeongguk seems anticlimactically sheepish.When Taehyung meets Jeongguk’s expressive eyes, he notes a determining difference. They sport a renovated glimmer, a tenderness that brightens the warm gray of his irises. Hope. It is endearing, and promising, and heartwarming.“Let’s go,” their alpha encourages.Jeongguk easily charges ahead, dashing with no hesitation, tail shooting up to keep him balanced. Taehyung does not think twice before scampering after him, and grins minutely to himself when he senses Namjoon, Seokjin and Hoseok running behind.Teamwork is the key to survival. They have ventured deep into the forest, following the others’ signatures, when the howling begins.It is nothing short of horrendous: broken cries trying to join but failing, clattering inconsistently. Some wails even crack halfway. Taehyung exchanges quick looks with his streak-mates, doubtful, puzzled. A twinge of distaste crinkles his features as the baffling discordancy worsens around them. He cannot imagine what kind of occurrence has warranted such ugly response.But it does not end there. As the howling begins to dim, a lurid yowl hinders the rising quietude. It is vociferous and vicious, and it stuns them for a second with the intense, bloodthirsty undertone. Those sounds like monkeys, Taehyung thinks with downturned lips, craning his neck to stare at the dark sky stretching over their heads, and furious ones at that.Their alpha halts in the middle of nowhere and their party stops with him—Hoseok before, Seokjin of his right, Jeongguk on his left, Taehyung behind. Their sensitive ears readjust their positions, moving back and forth as the ailuranthropes attempt to grasp why their fellow therianthropes out there are prompting that ferocious manifesto. This is a mere exhibition, after all—a kid’s play, one could say. No animal bellows that feverishly over a simple triviality.Unless the whole scheme hides worse things than what already meets the eye. Taehyung would not be surprised if that were the case. It would be naïve to deem it impossible.Chaos evolves like a raging thunderstorm. It disorientates them, assaulting them from every direction. It jackhammers their senses until their temples are throbbing painfully, until Taehyung is half-tempted to cup his ears and block the commotion that makes no sense to him.Seokjin grumbles by Namjoon’s right, visage crumpling under the weight of upmost aversion. “We’ve hunted buffaloes that didn’t scream like that even when dying, for heaven’s sake—they’re going to repel any prey within two miles if they keep this up! What’s going on?!”“I think they’re not used to communicating like this! Perhaps that’s why they’re coming off so feral-” Namjoon says loudly. Still, his voice reaches them distorted, rough and unclear, even though they are standing less than a meter apart. “This could benefit us, though—”“Oh, shit—” Jeongguk swears suddenly.The snow leopard freezes, footsteps faltering ungainly, and Taehyung barely misses crashing against his back.“Jeongguk, what—”A heavy stench of blood smacks his nostrils and floods down the empty column of his throat. It washes over him, stupefying his senses.Before he can even put the pieces together, a bloodcurdling scream resonates ahead, close, so close they are astonished they have not sensed its perpetrator sooner, that they have been too distracted to spot them. That excruciating cry tampers over the rampage, reducing it to a bothersome buzz in the back of theirs heads as their adrenaline’s levels hit the roof, their attention is wrenched ahead.“If it comes down to it, I want you all to pick flight over fight,” Namjoon evenly commands as they fall in place, awaiting. A killing unit. “Do you understand me?”“You’re asking us to flee with our tails between our legs?” Jeongguk rephrases, agitated, angry. “That’s ridiculous!”“I’m asking you to be smart enough to pick your battles!”“But hyung—”Taehyung’s breath hitches, his tiger falling silent inside him as a pair of silhouettes hastily staggers out of the vegetation, struggling through the paver walkway they have straggled into. Their laborious breathing instantly jerks their tails in alert, unbending their ears in anticipation. His is expecting the hit of Jimin’s delicious aroma billowing in the air, but still feels unprepared when it smacks him right in the face.Taehyung grows frantic. The wine-tinged fragrance that belongs to Yoongi is tainted with so much iron, the metallic sensation staying glued to his tongue like the slimy neutralizer from before. He can hear the mismatched pitapat galloping of a pack, can smell the dogs rushing toward them from behind.They need help. Jimin needs help.“Wait, don’t engage immediately—”He is changing without consciously willing his body to do it, yanking his shirt off and effortlessly resetting bones, a myriad of mesmerizing stripes springing through his skin as Namjoon’s urgent instruction gets lost in the whirlwind of his violent thoughts. He wrenches the necklace off at the last and least unthinkable second, hurls it somewhere to his left before the damage becomes irreversible.“For crying out loud, Taehyung!”He plummets into a momentary, familiar darkness, so dense and overbearing, and raises back into full consciousness with two robust forelegs supporting most of his weight. His nose and chin graze the ground as he lifts his heavy head, whiskers tinging with the shy breeze that floats through, reeking of blood. So much of it.He snaps his gaze ahead.Visual perception in this shape is less colorful, but not less impressive. In broad daylight, the quality is more or less equal to his human counterpart’s eyesight, except he cannot perceive most details as precisely; still, he can distinguish reds, blues, and greens, and has no problem judging distances or spaces.At night, however, the story changes. Everything improves drastically. His vision field is nitid, nature so much transparent, more defined, more easily detectable. It has been designed to hunt, and hunt he will.He effortlessly dodges the fugitives who have become petrified at the sight of him, of them, and leaps to immobilize one of the chasers hot on their heels. Fortunately, his attack does miss. He smacks the full-fledged wolf down by the neck, a sharp screech resounding at the impact before jaws are being snapped at him.Taehyung’s mouth encloses the throat of another wolf that undertakes rescuing his packmate, the threads of his more humane conscience making him painstakingly aware that he is not supposed to crush the airway, not this time around. His instincts are screaming he should, however. These wolves are after Jimin. They will try to hurt him again, and Taehyung will be damned if he allows any harm to befall upon his mate.So, he settles for reaffirming his upper hand, making his hostages screech as he applies the tiniest bit of pressure, deliberately leaning more of his body onto the front paw keeping that one wolf, clenching his jaw a little tighter around the other. He has to be careful, for these two cannot weight more than two hundred pounds, and it would be easy to snap them like little frail twigs.He hopes it will serve as warning for the noisy pack that aligns in front of them, that snort and circle, that anxiously shuffle on unsteady paws and show daunting teeth at him. Wolves are smart—Namjoon once told him that pureblood wolves can make a connection between cause and effect—, but this pack seems reckless.And, honestly, quite foolish.“Don’t do anything rash,” his alpha’s order booms. Namjoon appears next to him, ebony tail swinging irately as he darts a side-glance at Taehyung. He growls. “This won’t do any good. Just let them go.”He objects, his irascible grunt getting muffled by banded fur—he has no intention to dispatch them, but he does want to scare them, wants them to retreat immediately and leave Jimin in peace. He has no qualms about meddling in whatever inner conflict is unfolding before them as long as he can ensure Jimin’s safety. He would do anything to achieve that.His warning does more harm than good, increasing the animosity. Some of the wolves step out of line, buff-charging, glistening eyes set on him, and Taehyung rumbles in displeasure, clamping his mouth a little harder. “Taehyung.”Namjoon should understand. They were about to wound Jimin, precious and wonderful and beautiful Jimin, and that should be enough to justify hostility, to erase any notion of merciful diplomacy. He will match their belligerence if that is what they wish. Tigers do not run. Tigers do not back down.“You’re going to break his neck,” Namjoon mumbles in a softer tone, though never pleading, not in front of outsiders. His voice is still curt, and it shakes the tiger’s hackles. “Jimin’s safe. They won’t get anywhere close to him, okay? Let them go. Now.”He cannot see it, not with his back to his streak, but Jimin blanches. He blasts a strangled, short noise that almost sends Taehyung toppling into dangerous, panicky frenzy. Jimin is uncomfortable, scared, and Taehyung is more convinced that he should not let them go, not when his mate is distressed.But Namjoon’s composure is teetering as well, unmistakable exasperation fracturing his fortitude, and Taehyung would rather risk having these wolves charging back at him than losing his alpha’s trust. He can deal with the dogs later.He releases his victims with a snarl and watches as the disheveled pair scrambles back to their pack, limping, whining. The rest keeps barking and snarling, unafraid. They trust their numbers. They seem convinced they are powerful enough to defeat a group of five wild ailuranthropes.Such arrogant little things. And arrogance is a very, very grating call for a tiger.“This is an exhibition to hunt a conditioned prize, not to purposefully target fellow therianthropes. We won’t impede your participation if you leave,” Namjoon declares, bargaining, always prone to offering compromises. He paints such contrast with his unruffled posture, making him appear so sage and resilient, so different from the livid onlookers with frenetic eyes, creased snouts, and dripping jaws.Two wolves advance, most likely the head couple of the pack, and growl raucously at their alpha. It makes Namjoon quirk his lip down at the display of defiance. Even if he is normally very temperate, even if his analytic logic is one of the most predominant aspects of his personality, his lion blood—much like his tiger’s—is never dormant. And it has the hardest time forgiving disrespect, especially when he has done nothing to warrant that type of response.Taehyung stoops his head to his shoulder level, but Namjoon pinches his ear before he can even think of revenging the insolence.“You know won’t get far by challenging us,” the alpha insists, calm, poised, though his tail winds as his patience begins thinning. “Leave before my coalition decides you’d make good toothpicks for them.”It is an outrageous, bold remark to make. The alpha wolf snarls then, rightfully mad, his nasty glower skidding in Jimin’s direction—a nonverbal assertion that unlike the nonresident ailuranthropes, they do have a motive that binds them right where they are, and why have no intentions of letting a group of outsiders mingle in their business.But Namjoon is not yielding. “You’re not hurting anyone from my kin, not under my watch.”Taehyung widens his mouth and steps forward, but this time, is Hoseok who interrupts his path. The cheetah capers over to join them at the forefront, and he knocks his head against Taehyung’s chin in a silent gesture of support.They flank Namjoon like bodyguards, shifting impatiently. The subsequent stalemate is stuffing.Taehyung thinks that the wolves should have enough sense to heed Namjoon’s advice. They should recognize that any possibility of victory would be too costly for them. Numbers alone will not save them, not when they seem out of shape, not when they appear nowhere as attuned as his streak is.Taehyung knows that Seokjin and Namjoon alone could cause a tragedy. As clumsy as Namjoon can be, his lion can be fierce and lethal if the situation requires it, and Seokjin responds with no hesitation when it comes to having his mate’s back. Hoseok might have a harder time dealing with any of them, since they rival his size and beat him in weight, but he was born and raised in the wild, has survived fooling hunters for years, and his sleeves could burst with the number of crafty shenanigans and little tricks he possesses to avoid death. Same could be said about Jeongguk and his creative mindset that stuns when facing difficult predicaments, about the resourcefulness that kept him alive during his imprisonment before his captors began his toughing-up treatment.“I won’t repeat myself. Leave,” Namjoon states one last time. He is growing apprehensive, Taehyung can tell that much by the subtle spike in his scent, but he is doing a great job at concealing it. “Now.”Though the wolves are restive, Taehyung is positive they will back down. Namjoon’s brusque tone and body language screams I’m ready to shift and you won’t like that, and that should be enough. They should know. They should know this coalition-streak-leap is ready to attack, and they are strong, they are one hell of a nightmare for anybody who crosses them.But these are no regular wolves and lack the instincts their wild relatives do. Instead of withdrawing one by one, they step forward, the alpha couple taking the lead. Instead of quietening and scurrying away with their tails between their legs, like they ought to do for their own sake, their assortment of grating noises gradually arise as they shuffle closer. Instead of admitting a painless defeat, they lower their heads, tense their bodies, peel their teeth—ready to pounce.With no remorse left, Namjoon sighs. “You two, try not to kill them all.”His tiger makes no such promise. The quietude that follows encapsulates a volatile, strange kind of peace.Taehyung stands over an unresponsive wolf, forelegs-stained scarlet, tongue lazily licking fine threads mixed with iron off his teeth. He feels more human now, too raw and sensible as he muses about the bloodbath that could have been prevented. It is not remorse what he feels, but a strange sort of pity for these silly dogs; the lifeless pair of eyes pierces through him with the sharpness of an arrow.Beyond the opulent façade, Megatherium has proven to be an unsettling place, overbearingly so. These therianthropes are not accustomed to their full-animal skins, as they proved Namjoon right when they thrusted themselves headfirst against a more experienced, stronger feline unit. They were not solely inanely foolish but seemed almost delirious, so ravenous and disorderly, as if they had not tasted fresh air in months. In a way, perhaps they had not.Taehyung did not dwell on how gawky their shifting was before, a fracas of cracking limbs and heart-rending wails, too excruciating and horrendous in comparison to their swift transition. But now he realizes his mistake, his recklessness at not pondering the issue earlier. Maybe such occurrence would have not been alarming in a handful of individuals, because certainly not all shapeshifters demonstrate the same capacities when managing their forms, but two different packs with so many members each, and not a single one adept at transitioning painlessly? That is a red flag.It makes him wonder about the kind of lifestyle these talented gems lead. Perhaps the zookeepers’ dislike toward his streak’s behavior is not exclusively linked to their textbook unpredictability, but to their obvious and almost human independence, to their unruly characters that proudly embrace their both halves: their sensible soul and their visceral equivalent.It is no secret the therianthropes they have encountered have been subordinated in one way or another. They have been humanized throughout. None has been anything but responsive to their zookeepers’ commands, none has seemed the slightest disturbed by the absurdity of this place. Taehyung’s streak, on the other hand, has needed muzzles because they break the tamed mold these people prefer.He mulls over it as carefully as possible; even with the presumably irrational shell around him, even with his tiger’s hot-headedness and self-righteousness voice boiling the surface, making him inwardly flounder at random moments, Taehyung knows he always has a choice.He cannot assert the same for Megatherium’s inhabitants.Taehyung is not roundly civilized, not by human standards, and he has no problem accepting that. He cherishes his more logical self, though he tends to favor his tiger’s simplistic nature often. Humans tend to forget they are animals, too. They are used to repress, and repress and repress, and the drill becomes rather grueling sometimes. They forget how to cater to their other needs, how to control them. Reason is a privilege that seems to stifle them.He is not a monster. After years of hating it, of resenting his own existence, Taehyung owes his tiger all the appreciation he can muster. He loves him, so, so much.But what if—A moist, tiny nose against his neck stops his fast-traveling train of thoughts.Hoseok is extraordinary at what he does. When he dances, he is light, fleet and precise, just like his sleek cheetah. He pushes his audience to the edge of their seats because there is no way to read how his twirls and pirouettes will end, to accurately estimate where he is going to land next, to guess if he will land at all. Hoseok possesses the aggressive grace of an untamable feline.Jimin is starkly different. He dances with a moderate veil of fragility, with a more refined technique—like a human with the flexibility of a feline and not the other way around. His superb style has been carefully molded into what it is now. He is excellent at it, Taehyung would not even dream of denying it, but—does Jimin think like that, too? Like their animal forms aren’t as important?He has witnessed how well Jimin can blend in. Taehyung doubts he could ever masquerade as a human so flawlessly, let alone around a crowd as friendly and polite as Mrs. Bae’s family.
But what if Jimin won’t ever enjoy swimming, paddling in four? Or hunting giraffes together? Or even patrolling the perimeter and fooling around with little animals?
Taehyung loves all of it as much as he loves painting and experimenting with clay, or seldom stuffing an old scrapbook with prints from a film camera Baekhyun had gifted him shortly after being rescued.A firm, deep-rooted bond must be consummated throughout. Albeit mating is not grotesquely savage, it is not elegant or gentle either. Feline sex is painful itself.Abruptly, he finds himself rather disconcerted.
What if Jimin doesn’t want it? Will the ache be permanent then?
Hoseok yaps, nudging his head with him a strength that is bemusing for a cheetah of his built, and Taehyung is reverted to the urgent matters at hand. He ignores the doubts plaguing him, and watches through rueful eyes as the agitated more-human pair scrambles back on jittery feet, increasing the gap between Seokjin, Jeongguk, and themselves.Seokjin keeps a study arm draped around Jeongguk, detaining him. Jimin hugs Yoongi’s waist as well, looking as overwrought and unhinged as the older snow leopard—both with wound-up tails, flattened ears, wrinkled noses. Taehyung cannot see in detail, but perceives how red rivulets run slowly down Jimin’s forearms and hands. His streak-mates in their anthropomorphic skins can also add that more crimson has been splattered over his chest, similar to abstract art on a canvas, tricking down to his knees. The stench is strong, too strong.“Bastards like you make me sick—”“Please, hyung, calm down,” Jimin breathes out, ragged. “You’ll worsen your injury—”“Fuck off!”Yoongi shoulders against Jimin’s hold, bristling at Namjoon, who is closer to him. He grits disdainful words in a desperate attempt to keep him at bay, and Taehyung can feel how Hoseok is growing tenser, just like himself. The acute smell worsens, more blood seeping through. Yoongi has gone drastically pale, his hairline and neck soaked in cold sweat, one shoulder slanted wrongly.He looks miserable. Jimin does, too, and it tears Taehyung apart. He should be bearing the weight of that magnificent, gorgeous eye-smile of his, and not that ominous expression that makes Taehyung think about cattle being led to butchery.The tiger instinctively pulls himself up the second Jeongguk treads one step closer to the pair, ignoring Yoongi’s furious expletives and Jimin’s unnerved pleas to keep their distance. Namjoon swiftly blocks him, and he has to begrudgingly drop back on his haunches.Their youngest whimpers.“Hyung, don’t you—can’t you recognize me?”That sweet intonation, that soft-spoken hyung, has been reserved to them for years. It is not easy to listen to their Jeongguk addressing someone else with that amount of tacit yearning, with that amount of unspoken care, especially when the recipient is basically a stranger, an outsider.Jeongguk was stuck in a hospital bed the first time he called Taehyung that, after months of intense treatment and excruciatingly slow progress. Since then, whenever hardships get particularly tough, when Jeongguk risks baring himself like that and calls them in affliction, they do not hesitate to provide comfort. There is always a shoulder to lean on, arms to rest within, a warm body to curl next to.But nothing happens now, because Jeongguk is not seeking their comfort, and because Yoongi is in no condition to even being understanding why he should reciprocate Jeongguk’s tenderness.“Don’t fucking call me like—why the hell would I—” Yoongi chokes, chest rattling with exertion, frantic eyes narrowing when stumbling upon the long, fluffy tail curled around Jeongguk’s lower limbs. “Who the fuck—”The streak is on the same wavelength, their postures growing equally vexed, alarmed as the situation seems to spiral for the worst. They wait with bated breaths stuck in their throats, with tails curling and lashing like angry snakes with will of their own. Their bond shakes as Jeongguk’s willpower starts crumbling, as something inside him splinters, breaks so irrevocably hard they flinch in unison.Taehyung’s ears twitch and twitch and twitch. Neither do they flatten, nor do they straighten; they hesitate in between in a constant, anxious dance.It is with evident leeriness that Yoongi lifts his ablaze eyes. They glaze over when roaming the map of Jeongguk’s features: his high nose, his cheekbones, his thin lips, the roundness of his jaw. Taehyung has no idea how Jeongguk looked when Yoongi and he got separated, considerably scrawnier and smaller most likely, but he does know that his eyes, full of wonder and kindness even with the wanton cruelty he has endured, are impossible to confuse. To forget.He senses when fear fatally strikes Yoongi as the diluted familiarity seems to click. It permeates the air, turning his expression absolutely aghast, souring his grapy scent enough to make eyes water.Yoongi seems to have stopped breathing altogether, his frame stilling completely, eyes widening to the point they appear ready to pop out of their sockets, ears falling flat against his crown. Jimin drops his hands, looking at his companion as if he had been burnt. Taehyung wishes he could be by his side, that he could provide any comfort.But—“Guk-ah?” Yoongi utters, a timorous, heartbroken thing. “Oh, fuck, Jeongguk—it’s you.”Moonlight filters through the trees surrounding them. It accentuates Yoongi’s devoured, ghastly expression. He looks gaunt, he seems just as haunted. Jimin is no better than him, gaping at Jeongguk with the same appalled shock of a man encountering a bloody ghost.Jeongguk deflates, shrinking into a despairing vestige of his own self as his name echoes like a listless carol in the buzzing calmness, so lonely, so disturbing.The weight of his past slumps his shoulders, and he has to drag a deep breath from the bottom of his lungs to croak out.“Hi, Yoongi-hyung.”Before they can even try saying anything else, a racket resounds in the distance, the telltale noises of a collision between two groups, and both Taehyung and Hoseok slant their bodies, snapping their heads to stare at the sheer darkness that threatens to devour their sanity.“We need to move,” Namjoon alerts. “It’s not safe here. Move, now.” “We need to reset the shoulder,” Seokjin asserts, hardened eyes set on Yoongi’s arm that hangs limp in a nauseating way.The snow-leopard looks blankly at him.Regardless of his ready-to-collapse state, of the way Jimin had almost dropped on his knees to plea for his cooperation, Yoongi has yet to yield in. He is one impressively stubborn guy; Taehyung would give him that.His defensive stupor, naturally, discomposes them all. Jeongguk is notably restless, fighting to constrain his need to pace by digging his heels into the foil, clawing the flesh of his thighs. It is painful to watch, but even their leader’s tactful coaxing has been to no avail, for the youngest’s full attention is on Yoongi and Yoongi alone. On the way he breathes, slow and heavy, rattling. Jeongguk appears terrified of looking away, as if Yoongi would—would die again in those seconds, would vanish again with no trace whatsoever.Taehyung’s shudders with the thought.It has been a challenge to guide Jimin and Yoongi away from the shoddy parody of a battlefield that they had crafted. They managed to accomplish so only because Yoongi became too depleted to oppose being practically manhandled by Jimin, though Yoongi still had enough energy to swat Seokjin’s hands whenever they lingered too close, prompted by the urge to assist.Hoseok and Taehyung escort them with silent, stealthy steps, afraid of making any noise that could possibly shatter the frail truce they seem to have.Now, they hang around the placid lake that rests at the center of the northwest area of the gardens, according to Jimin’s quiet indications. A halcyon weather reigns tonight, with a breathtaking starry firmament painted over the motionless, reflective surface. The trees outlining the lakeside stretch like towers around them, the gleam of the moon bringing out the faintest hint of dark green of their leaves.Their surroundings have fallen forebodingly serene around them, making the situation even more unbearable. A calm before a storm, it seems. Taehyung and Hoseok keep surveying the thicket lines that encompass the rocky shore, and the treacherous forest beyond them, bracing themselves to deal with any vagrant menace stalking behind the bushes.After such chaos, this silence feels a little mocking.“I’m afraid they might’ve torn ligaments, or that they actually fissured the bone—those type of injuries could be fatal,” Seokjin steadily states. His hand gestures are eloquent, not wild but emphatic enough to raise alarm about the situation, though his eyes are frantic enough to deduce how truly urgent it is. “Wolf’s dentition is no joke. A regular human would’ve died from a wound like that, you know. The compression must’ve caused a spike in your blood pressure—that sort-of shock’s what gives wolves advantage over animals twice their size in the wild. So, please, let me treat you.”“No,” Yoongi rasps out, weak nonetheless spiteful. He does not wilt under Seokjin’s flat look. “I’ll rather bleed myself dry.”Jimin chokes up at the admission. His soft eyes are swollen, perpetually tearful. Taehyung trembles with the agony that clings to Jimin like a bloody curse, rumbling forlornly when his distressed scent stabs his nostrils. “Hyung, don’t say that. Why can’t you just—”“They’re dangerous—”The tiger grunts from where he is pressed against Jeongguk’s side, an aborted grumble resounding through his body and even reverberating in the tranquil night. He is growing even more frenetic than when he first realized the wolves poised a threat for his—for Jimin. The wolves were the danger, not them, not him. He would never hurt Jimin. Not on purpose, not like that.“We are dangerous, but we aren’t the bloodthirsty monsters you’re making us to be,” Seokjin corrects. Yoongi narrows his unfocused gaze. “I know what I’m doing. I wouldn’t put you at risk just because—I wouldn’t treat a life with so little disregard. I know the scope of my skills, both to kill and to save.”Seokjin rarely discloses his past. Even them, who are part of his mismatched family, have been doled out just the basic scraps of it. Taehyung knows that their hyung was a teenager when his home was railed, that he was sold to a brothel in Singapore alongside his mother, and that he somehow ended under the custody of a clandestine physician. He also knows that, although the man abused Seokjin, he served almost like a pseudo-teacher for him, forcing their hyung to be useful by training him as an assistant.Back then, Seokjin counted with little to zero supplies, and his paranoid drive was constantly fueled by his master’s constant ultimatums. Necessity taught him to be inventive when fixing injuries under the most precarious circumstances, otherwise he would be punished.Even if they did try to dissuade him at the beginning, to prevent him from exercising what he was forcefully imparted for years, to this day Seokjin is the one to patch them up whenever a late hunting session goes awry.“We won’t hurt you,” Namjoon reiterates, measuring his own words. That earns him another derisive scoff. “We have no motive to do so.”“You’re a bunch of aberrant loners, and fucking dominants on top of that—” Yoongi grits with disdain.Taehyung feels how Jeongguk shudders beside him, how his breath hitches and something a like a wail gets brusquely squashed down. It must be so dissonant, listening such harsh, hateful words from the brother that only had praises and comfort words for him once.“Just leave us the fuck alone!”He cannot fully blame Yoongi for his hostility, Taehyung’s quiet, inner voice muses—his counterpart, with his more humane, empathic input. Yoongi is at the brink of delirium and hysteria; he cannot think straight, cannot find the quiet to process everything that is transpiring.The stench of distress he exudes is so bitter and strong, it causes his eyes to water.Taehyung can go as far as guessing that Yoongi, in that volatile state, might even be doubting that Jeongguk is real, that their encounter had actually happened, and that everything so far had not been a cruel figment of his imagination. How could he not, when he is most likely succumbing to the agony?
He’s losing it, in more ways than one.
Jimin is faring no better, worry coming out of him in tidal waves. Whatever he says to Yoongi crashes against his obstinate, deaf ears, and that seems to frustrate him to unimaginable levels.“You’re in a vulnerable state,” their alpha reasons, again. His narrowed stare and raised hand keep the rest of them in place, observing the unpleasant barter as helpless bystanders. “If someone else finds you like this—”“Then it’s our problem!”“But hyung—”“No, Jimin—we didn’t ask to be rescued! So, fuck off—”Jimin finally snaps. Taehyung cowers at the anger that contorts his features.“Hyung, that’s enough! Listen to me—no, you’re listening to me now”, Jimin defines, lifting both hands and settling a tenacious grip on Yoongi’s cheekbones.He tips his head and forces their foreheads together, making Yoongi look him in the eyes.“I get, okay? I get it! I’m terrified, too. I can hardly feel my hands right now, can’t even breathe deeply without feeling like I’m suffocating—that’s how scared I am. But I know they won’t hurt us. They’re not like that—like them. They’d have already touched us if they wanted. You hear me? They could’ve hurt us already, but they haven’t, and they won’t!”“Didn’t you see—that tiger fucking mauled Joonyoung! And they—they killed Seunghyung.”Jimin furrows his brows, clenching his jaw at the despair that colors Yoongi’s halting speech. A sharp glint cuts across his eyes, something that gives Jimin’s gaze a despairing quality, so raw and saddening as he stares intently at Yoongi, that Taehyung swears it is going to rip their souls in halves.“Hyung, Seunghyung was going to kill us. We weren’t going to make it. But they—” Jimin gestures to the fellow ailuranthropes waiting around, “they protected us.”“We need protection from them, Jimin—”“Hyung, are you even listening to yourself? You’re not making any sense!” The fellow tiger raises his voice, and they get startled by the sheer rage exploding within it. Even Jimin seems taken aback by his outburst, though that hardly deters him from continuing with his tirade. “Is this how you want things to end? You know nobody’s going to come and rescue us—they will let the rest do the dirty work for them! Look at your shoulder, look at how much blood you’ve lost already! It’ll get worse!” Jimin frantically waves his stained palms, and then points at their flimsy clothes tinted in red. “Is this how you want to die?! After everything we’ve been through, after everything we—”Jeongguk coughs at the die dangles like a sinister reminder. Not again, Taehyung imagines him thinking, can almost hear it resonating through their minds. Please, not again.Yoongi is not backing down. “Jimin—”“Shut up!” The tiger growls, torn, queasy, and furious. “Is this it, hyung? Are you really giving up now? Because I refuse to do that. I’m not losing you!”Air stills. The strain on their posture worsens. Taehyung wishes he could materialize next to Jimin, wishes he could nuzzle his ribs and lay down close to him, wishes he could provide solace when he is so distraught. His tail is high-strung, tip pointing up a little, eyes opaque with dread.Jimin risks a side-glance in his direction, swift and jittery, as if sensing Taehyung’s longing. Those blueish eyes roam over his tiger’s frame and soften ever so imperceptibly before they return to the stunned snow leopard, who is beginning to slump out of exhaustion. Perhaps the dim nightlight is tricking him, but Taehyung swears Jimin’s eyes are brighter.“That is Taehyung, hyung. I told you about him—” Jimin whispers, but the scenery is restful enough for all of them to register the vibrations, to make sense of the sounds that puzzle together more dilemmas than answers. “I trust him. He trusts them. Please, can you just—trust me on this?”Jimin’s tail loosens up, not curling entirely around his legs, but lessening the level of anxiety. The sincerity of his confession sends Taehyung’s heart cartwheeling.Yoongi’s defensive stance loses tension, fight abandoning him in an instant. They breathe again.“You’re insufferable”, he mutters between a wince and a gasp, trying to apply pressure on his shoulder. Now that the adrenaline is wearing off, he looks frailer than before. “Fuck, fuck—this hurts like a bitch.”Jimin nods. “You’re getting your shoulder fixed and I don’t want to hear another word about that.”Seokjin approaches, uncertain.“May I?”Yoongi glares, though it is halfhearted and lacks the prior aversion. “Okay.”Jeongguk sags in relief and nearly topples over Taehyung.Immediately, Seokjin gets down to work, folding the hem of his pants while directing everyone around him; he requests Jimin’s assistance to undress Yoongi and help him keep the wound pressured, then barks at Hoseok to keep watch, and instructs Jeongguk and Namjoon to snatch whatever curative plants they can find nearby—yarrow, rosemary, golden-road, willow or pine bark.“Joon, wait! Cobwebs, too”, Seokjin adds as an afterthought, carefully easing Yoongi into the lake to peel off the fabric that is beginning to adhere to some parts. The snow leopard shivers, malcontent. “Those are good to stop bleeding!”Jimin hovers by the shore, looking at the water, tail twisting in apprehension.“What? What if a poisonous spider bites us for yanking the thing off?”“Are you serious right now? Just bring the spider, too, you big crybaby-”“You’re the one who’s afraid of anything that flies or crawls, hyung,” Jeongguk listlessly remarks, eyes never straying far away from Yoongi, who makes a conscientious effort to not look his away.“Just leave already!” Seokjin outcries. “And Taehyung, you go with them.”Taehyung growls at that, forcing his weight down, contradicting him.“Taehyung, it’s dangerous out there and we don’t need some rogue dogs ambushing these two while they’re fending spiders off—we need you to put Yoongi’s needs before your own.”Taehyung’s resolve balks at that, the thought of failing Jimin’s friend settling badly. That would be despicable.Still, just to be petty because he dislikes being ordered around, he flashes his fangs at his hyung again.“Guk-ah, come on,” Namjoon urges then, brushing the youngest’s elbow. “The quicker we leave, the quicker we can return.”“What if someone comes back? Hobi-hyung’s strong, but…”“But nothing. Jin-hyung’s going be here, too. They’re perfectly capable of keeping them safe. You two come with me, now—”Taehyung tunes out the rest of the discussion when he notices that the blue tiger remains unmoving, not staring at the water extension ahead but looking straight back at him, trembling eyes pining him in place.His tiger perks up at the sudden attention, tilting his head in interest. His tail sways, lured by the content sensation that goes through him.Time seems to slow down for a moment, the atmosphere growing mute and serene the longer Jimin and he stare at each other. Taehyung has read verses describing similar occurrences with grandiose expressions. He always deemed such words as beautiful exaggerations, so superficially pretty but existentially empty. A nice play between reality and fiction.But now, as Jimin’s shiny sapphires lock with his eyes, he cannot deny it does feel like the world pauses for an instant. A sense of utter peace dawns on him and he tingles with warmth everywhere. Taehyung hopes that Jimin is on the same wavelength.Jimin shuffles, water sloshing as he abandons the lake, and Taehyung mirrors him, spellbound, moving to meet him halfway, his tiger’s strut as fleet and graceful as always.The Maltese tiger lowers himself until his knees kiss the ground. His face is inches apart from the keen fangs that could effortlessly execute him in matter of seconds, but Taehyung simply chuffs with an overjoyed sentiment. He would not ever hurt Jimin. The other seems to know why.They lean toward one another, powerlessly, like magnets being pulled together.Jimin sweeps his fringe back and lets Taehyung brush his nose across his hairline, sniffing the skin before he licks it. He registers the taste with satisfaction, bumping his forehead against Jimin’s like he has seen the blue tiger do with his friend, chuffing once again. Jimin responds with an airy, soft laugh.Small fingers card the tufts of white fur at each side of his skull, cooing at the texture of Taehyung’s well-cared coat. “You’re so huge, so huge and gorgeous. You’re the most handsome tiger I’ve ever met,” he marvels. Delight has Taehyung preening under the praise, has him rubbing himself more insistently against the other. He settles his nose on the crook between Jimin’s neck and collarbones, elated. “Oh, Taehyung…”Jimin’s exquisite scent envelopes him like a cozy blanket. It dizzies Taehyung until he slips, forgetting where he is and what is happening around. All he can feel is Jimin’s staccato heartbeat, the enhanced nerve-endings at the end of his teeth vibrating with it. It is a wonderful song, so, so enthralling that Taehyung might die because he is just as thrilled and happy.
I don’t know why, but I missed you like crazy.
Did you miss me too?
Jimin clutches his head, burying his nose deeper into Taehyung’s fur. I did. Their blissful bubble is popped too soon.“Taehyung, I swear to god!” Seokjin snarls.“Taehyung,” his alpha clears his throat, awkwardly moving next to them, Jeongguk peering sadly beside him. “They’ll be enough time for—err, this, later. Jin-hyung needs us. Yoongi-ssi needs us.”He wishes they could grant them some privacy but knows that is a luxury they cannot afford in here.Jimin tips his head up and blinks at Taehyung, drowsily, before whisking himself away and trotting back into the water, hesitating for a second as he watches Seokjin cleanse and poke Yoongi’s wound to assess the damage. In the end, he valiantly plods forward to embrace Yoongi from behind.Taehyung has no chance to react, has no time to give him an adequate answer. He blinks back, just to himself. If Jimin trusts him, he has nothing else to ask for.(He wonders where the necklace has fallen and feels relief course through his vein when his alpha uncurls his fist and shows him that he has saved the present.Later, Namjoon mouths and gestures ahead.This time, Taehyung listens). Considering how high-strung the menagerie has gotten them so far, it is no shocker they return in less than ten minutes to the lake.Namjoon and Jeongguk slide from one spot to another like black mambas, rummaging through bushes and plucking every plant that smells familiar, and grant Taehyung no chance to properly sniff or mark the perimeter, nearly giving him a couple of whiplashes on the process.Hoseok hurries to join them as they cross the last copse of trees and run into the lake area, the cheetah vaulting over a fallen tree and conveniently landing on Taehyung’s back, ready to nibble on his ears. The tiger lets him get away with the pesky trick, too preoccupied with the asphyxiating need to be with Jimin to snap at the cheetah. Yes, he is that worried.Namjoon speedily carries his armful of flowers and leaves ahead, and Jeongguk stumbles a few steps behind him with a bundle of branches tucked under his armpit while his free hand tries to peel the sticky tendrils of a cobweb from his hair. He keeps cursing his decision to wrench the whole thing in the first place.Hoseok mocks his struggle with an amused, throaty noise that becomes a terrified screech the second Jeongguk tosses something in his direction, telling him to watch out for the big, hairy spider.“Hyung, come on—we hunt those as cubs!” Jeongguk manages the tiniest smile. “Don’t be so skittish.”The cheetah bleats.“Hyung, here,” Namjoon waves his load to Seokjin. “Guk’s got yarrow, pine, and I found those bitter leaves you use for balms—”Taehyung’s ears straighten, attentive as their alpha tiptoes around the water, clearly unwilling to get in. His eyes skid ahead and stumble upon Jimin, and in a blink, Taehyung falls absurdly mesmerized again.Jimin’s tiger is peeking over the seamed ends of his prudently trimmed persona. Unlike Seokjin and Yoongi, who have remorsefully settle down by the lakeshore and still seem rather unhappy about the liquid body around them, Jimin has willingly advanced further, plunging his thighs midway and splashing drops with his tail.Notwithstanding the circumstances, Taehyung lets himself treasure the moment.He envisages a similar scenery back in the reserve, with a frolicsome blue tiger taking a swim inside his favorite lake, capering out for a good sunbath before taking a nap under the shade of dancing trees. He pictures his own tiger lazily walking out of water to lay against Jimin.He would let Jimin rest peacefully, would make sure that no threat would disturb him. He would watch over too, a head perched on his paws as human-Jimin graciously whirls back into the lake, halting to observe with childlike fascination the way the water ripples around him—then, Taehyung is jerked out of his fantasy when Yoongi expels an urgent growl. Seokjin has picked a bare, thick branch from Jeongguk’s impromptu harvest, and he is proffering to Yoongi.The snow leopard looks considerably more aware than before, and cooler, though not less distrustful as he begrudgingly fits the piece inside his mouth.“Alright. We’re ready to put Yoongi’s shoulder back in place. Give us space, guys.”Jimin hurries to support Yoongi and chokes on a surprised gasp as he notices the deplorable condition of the long, wet tail. The snow leopard’s grayish eyes skid up and glare at him, razor-edged and unimpressed. But Jimin, lovely and agreeable and precious Jimin, is immune to the attitude. He retaliates with a cheeky smirk and unabashedly scoots closer, nudging with his hip Yoongi’s good side.There is sadness permeating every second of the exchange, the severity of the situation impossible to overlook. Taehyung tries not to dwell on that, rather thinking how easy is to understand now why Jimin got so furious at the prospect of leaving Megatherium.It should have been evident that he was—is—not alone, not like Mrs. Bae’s words have hinted.It makes him wonder… There is enough space in Smilodon for Yoongi as well.“I’ll count to three,” Seokjin’s voice booms with finality.Taehyung and his streak-mates gather by the lakeshore, drawing a decent distance so they do not suffocate their hyung’s patient. They await with unbreathed sighs.“I’ll walk you through the whole thing, okay?”With a stiff nod from Yoongi’s part, Seokjin begins. He grabs the wrist of the sloppy arm, thoughtfully extends it to align the humerus, and pauses to confirm whether Yoongi is holding on or not. In a blink, he pops it back into the cavity with a noise that has Taehyung’s tail bristling in fright.Yoongi’s scream is hardly muted by the wood. His cheeks flare with the exertion, and a few tears glide down his pale skin, glistening silver under the starlight. Jimin holds onto him tighter when the snow leopard slumps, tired beyond belief, and does not let him go.
At least, that’s over now.
Jeongguk inhales sharply and seems to swallow a hollow sob. Hoseok and Taehyung wrap themselves around the youngest, pressing wet noses against his hips, hoping to comfort him. They are no strangers to injuries, and Jeongguk has witnessed worse than this, but this time it is different.It is disheartening to hear him so quiet, to watch him as reticent.“You aren’t bleeding profusely anymore, which it’s so much better than what I could’ve expected. Here, chew this…” Seokjin hands a smelly branch that has Yoongi retching at the first nibble. “I know it tastes like shit, but it will help with the pain. And this will aid the scarring and inflammation.”Seokjin applies the slimy salve of a thick leaf over the incisions of teeth, and then indicates how to cover it with another strong-smelling thing that have Yoongi and Jimin sneezing simultaneously.“Now, we just have to make you a sling, prepare another salve with the flowers and bark my boys got us, and we’ll be all good for the moment,” he smiles. “Joon-ah, can you pass me Taehyung’s shirt and what is left of his pants? I put them over there-”Namjoon diligently complies. Taehyung suppresses a grumble at the idea of Jimin helping Yoongi into the shirt he discarded earlier, which is a little dusty but clean enough to be worn, a much better option that the bloody leftovers of Yoongi’s. It seems wrong, he muses, for Yoongi to be basking on his scent when he is not the breeder he fancies.
There’s nothing we can do about that.
“Wait,” Jeongguk cracks, eyes wide, lips trembling. Still, he pushes forward. “Maybe—my scent’s more familiar to Yoongi-hyung that Taehyung’s. Maybe it won’t feel so overpowering. So—”He strips from his shirt, and quickly snatches Taehyung’s cloth before proffering his own. Taehyung does not miss how Jeongguk makes extra-effort to cover most of the scars scattered along his strong chest, but neither Jimin nor Yoongi are looking at him. Seokjin does not even try to be discreet when he rolls his eyes, but quietly asks Jimin to aid Yoongi into Jeongguk’s shirt.If the other snow leopard is bothered by Jeongguk’s scent enveloping, warm and floral and intense, he does not show it. Not a single muscle twitches on his face when Jimin dresses him. Immutable, so much, it is impossible to tell if he is anything but angry.Seokjin uses the fabric of Taehyung’s ragged pants to wrap Yoongi’s wrist, and Jimin secures the arm up by firmly knotting the fabric behind Yoongi’s nape. Once they are done, a heavy pause follows. Nobody moves. Nobody makes the faintest noise.Before a tense silence can take solid roots, Seokjin chirps in, “you know, Hoseok has tons of battle scars similar to yours, Yoongi-ssi. Hyenas are known to bully cheetahs to steal their kill and our Hobi’s an easy prey when he’s by himself.”Hoseok objects the oversharing, falsely outraged.“But he looks tough,” Jimin says.“Oh, he can be very deadly, but he’s a softie at heart. Aren’t you, Hobi-yah?”The cheetah does not even pretend to be insulted, happily curling himself against Jeongguk.Disgust creases Yoongi’s face as he sticks to Seokjin’s previous instructions and continues gnawing on the leaves, letting Jimin pull him out of the water and bristling when his soaked tail smacks the ground with a squashy noise, his fur getting mud everywhere. The sight of it is pitiful, and Taehyung feels the second-hand frustration.Jeongguk is fidgeting, his eyes never lingering for more than a few seconds on Yoongi’s features, and he ends up stepping on Taehyung’s tail—which is horrible, painful, and he would have possibly been in serious danger if he were not part of his streak. When Jeongguk bows to apologize, Taehyung espies something poignant in his gaze that makes him wonder if Jeongguk’s love for his hyung was more than some filial imprinting.
Maybe…
“You’re going to need proper medical attention asap,” Seokjin warns Yoongi, plopping down on the ground in exhaustion. There is something stern darkening his face and it does not disappear even when Namjoon sits down next to him and congratulates him for his hard work. “You mentioned before that they wouldn’t help you, but—”He gives a mate a meaningful look.“A veterinarian came with us to this event, as well as two out of our best caretakers,” their alpha takes over, smooth, calm, gesturing for his coalition to get comfortable. Taehyung moves only when Jeongguk does, sticking close to the younger. His eyes keep flickering over Jimin, who also returns the glimpses with shy smiles. “I’m sure they won’t mind properly checking and treating any injury… if that’s okay with you, of course.”Jimin and Yoongi do not respond immediately. They exchange a glance, heavy-charged, intimate, resigned, and seem to communicate million things at once.“We’ll have to wait until this is over, but that’d be nice. Thank you,” Jimin nods at last before cupping Yoongi’s slender hand. He squeezes the long, pianist fingers with a dejected, gloomy look. “I’m sorry about this, hyung. I shouldn’t have-”“Don’t. You’re not apologizing for that nutcase’s fault.”Jimin sighs, eyes shining sadly. Taehyung barely manages to quieten a whimper.He knows everybody is silently wondering what happened in that short amount of time they had lost sight of them, why those wolves would engage in such onslaught, but their silent agreement is to rely on Namjoon to cope with the situation. The ambience is delicate as it is and they do not need to spook Jimin and Yoongi with their prodding, so it seems wise to trust their leader and his sensibility to make the call.Yoongi drops his head against Jimin’s shoulder and finally, for the first time since the forced clash, dares to meet Jeongguk’s mournful eyes.Not only Taehyung tenses as Jeongguk’s spine goes upright, but their hyungs do as well. Their group is well-knit like that.For a second, no one breathes.“You’re—you’re alive,” Yoongi starts, cryptically collected. His voice hints an odd detachment. A defensive barrier. “Jeongguk.”The younger snow leopard squirms in place, his forehead wrinkling with a disgruntled frown.His scent spikes, startling his streak-mates.“Yes, I’m alive—and so are you.”“You don’t sound happy about it.”Their maknae snarls. “You are the one who doesn’t sound happy—”Yoongi squints. “Jeongguk, they took you.”“They shot you,” Jeongguk briskly accounts.“Yoongi-hyung…” Jimin speaks, faint-hearted, alternating an alarmed gaze between Jeongguk and Yoongi. “Hyung, don’t that. Please.”His heartbroken tone triggers Taehyung, his tail reacting immediately as he hauls himself off the ground. His hyungs share a quick look, and Namjoon hastily pats Jeongguk’s knee in a silent warning. Unfortunately, it goes unheeded.“You were dead! Your heartbeat... I was under you-”“I was—”“I don’t understand how come you’re alive!”Yoongi is nonplussed. Jeongguk’s defensive demeanor tastes bitterly accusatory and in a second, fury seems to overthrow the sentimentality that could have been. The scent of minty wine sours to match Jeongguk’s bitter distress. They are on the edge of a cliff, and the lethal fall seems inevitable.Taehyung and Hoseok react to the shift in the air, incapable of holding their growls at the tension. Namjoon and Seokjin jump to restrain them both, though their irritated tails swish behind, colliding again and again.Yoongi unglues himself from Jimin, and gasps noiselessly when he jostles his own arm with the movement. Seokjin winces but does not approach. Not yet.Jimin tries reaching out, attempts on taking him back, but Yoongi rejects him.“The monks, they brought help, and they saved my life—”For some reason, that seems like the wrong thing to say. Jeongguk bursts like a dam, as riled up as Yoongi is becoming. Seokjin lets go of Hoseok to intercept Jeongguk before he can lash out and the result is no better than a failed effort to handle a overly panicked cat: he gets scratches on his forearms, long and bloody and so gruesome. Namjoon tenses, the harsh glitch of his breath hitting Taehyung’s ear like an arrow, and the tiger marvels at his alpha’s stalwart composure as he solidly tells Jeongguk enough. If Taehyung were on his position, he does not he could have handled Jeongguk hurting his mate as coolheadedly as their alpha has just done, let alone with how unbearable everything tastes at the moment.Once he registers the iron stench, Jeongguk jolts back and deflates in horror, in defeat. In seconds, his expression bounces from incensed to mortified to crestfallen. Taehyung recognizes the tendrils of traumas lingering behind, the guilt that must be eating him from inside out for falling into that old, problematic mindset.Jeongguk’s eyes brim with glimmering tears, and he makes a sorrowful noise that has Seokjin nodding in understanding.“It’s okay, kid. You’re okay, you’re safe,” their hyung consoles as Jeongguk breaks a bit more. “Look, these are way better than a scratch to my cornea anyway. Don’t you think?”Jeongguk titters wetly, shoulders slumping, sinking with the heavy weight of emotional exhaustion. In Seokjin’s embrace, he seems to recover a bit of clarity, enough for Taehyung to relax, for Hoseok to dare to approach and lick the tips of his fingers.At the other end, Jimin whispers something they cannot hear to Yoongi, and the snow leopard’s face falls, a mirror of Jeongguk’s broken-self.For a while, no one says anything else, as if they are all gathering their wits after the terse exchange.Then, their youngest ruefully utters, “where were you?”“Jeongguk—” Their alpha couple warns. He ignores them.He turns to Yoongi, visage mellowing with raw desolation.“Where were you?” He visibly gulps, pale like a ghost, scent a strange combination of fear and pain. “If you were alive—why didn’t you look for me?”The question falls like a bomb. Everything is loud, loud, loud. Then, crushing, inclement silence.Yoongi recoils as if he has been physically hit. Jimin gapes behind him.Jeongguk glances at them, at his family. He is clueless. He seems like regrets asking, most likely afraid of the answer. Taehyung grumbles.Yoongi clenches a fist, and gazes away into nothing.He looks haggard.Taehyung’s ears flatten as he opens his mouth to speak.“I failed.”A dissonant statement, clanging in the silence.“I failed you, Guk.”Jeongguk wipes his face with the heel of his hands. Taehyung’s tail winds and unfolds in a rush of something that he belatedly recognizes as anguish. Jimin bolts up his feet, smelling terribly, absolutely heartbroken.Yoongi continues, staring at the lines on his palms with an empty expression. “I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. I couldn’t—I didn’t know, Jeongguk. I really had no idea. I was—you were taken away and I couldn’t do anything. They said you wouldn’t survive. They said it was better if I resigned myself, because I wasn’t going to ever find your body, because—that’s what they do. They said it, again, again, and…”It hurts him to speak, Taehyung realizes, and not because of the sharp pain of his injuries. Not, that is not it. Yoongi is scraping his lungs to find the strength to verbalize the demons that have been haunting him for years, no doubt.“I believed them, Guk. I thought—I thought wrong. And for that, I’m sorry,” he roughly admits, voice quiet, terrified, ashamed. “I just—I failed you.”Jeongguk’s body shakes with the force of a sob.“No, no, no—” He splutters, chest heaving. They have never heard him like that, so despondent, so shattered. Not even when he was at the hospital, not even when he shared pieces of his past, not even when he fought with himself to get back on his feet. “I was, I just—”“I could have done something, anything,” Yoongi is spiraling down, hard and fast, in a delirious guilty game. It is horrifying, and though part of Taehyung is pettily holding onto the grudge of Yoongi being a cause of Jeongguk’s pain, he cannot help but feel so much compassion. “I shouldn’t have given up so easily, I—”“No!” Jeongguk shouts and this time, Namjoon has to keep Seokjin away from the pair, for he looks seconds away from snatching Jeongguk into his arms. Their maknae’s shoulders fall, every ounce of fight leaving him. “You—you saved me. You took a bullet for me—I stayed alive. I was stupid—I was—” He gulps and shakes his head, unable to conjure the right words. “We survived, hyung.”Yoongi is white-faced. He nods, tense. His eyes swell with tears.“We did.”They pause, waiting for another cue. Taehyung’s head is spinning, the dense fog of distraught scents almost a viscous thing on his tongue. He cannot fathom how to proceed, not when the situation does not feel like a reconciliation but more like an impasse.Yoongi sneezes and tremors rack his body, from the drenched tail to his head.“We can start a fire—this hunt always prolongs more than necessary,” Jimin proposes at last, candid, soft-spoken, smiling that tentative, soothing smile of his as he rubs Yoongi’s non-injured shoulder. “He’ll dry faster that way and we could just—chill.”Namjoon laughs weakly. “That sounds good.”“Yeah, let’s just—” Yoongi hiccups. He thinks about something for a while, and then stretches his hand toward the other snow leopard. “Guk?”In a heartbeat, Jeongguk barrels against him and cries. Yoongi does, too, mumbling things that get muffled against the younger’s messy hair. They do not separate.Jimin tips his head toward the forest, a gentle look on his face. “So, wood?”Taehyung is the first to follow him, letting the other pet him as they give the two snow leopards some space to talk. Seokjin is an excellent story-teller. He exploits his repertoire of anecdotes to fill the quietude that befalls after the small fire is lit and they huddle around it. Instincts have them drawing an invisible line, with Jimin and Yoongi sitting at one side, while the streak gather at the other.Seokjin relates Namjoon’s adorably clumsy attempts at courting, and how he thought Namjoon was being friendly until the other lion spelled it to him. He tells them how Taehyung wept the night of his first day at the museum because he fell in love with a bunch of kids that called him Mr. Pretty and gave him a file full of drawings at the end of his shift. He even recalls that time Jeongguk got sick and had a fever, and how they turned their whole house into a freezer in a frenzy to lower his temperature.“I think, though, that my favorite story is from Hoseok’s first solo kill in the reserve,” Seokjin smirks. Hoseok shrieks and smacks his tail against the ground, but that does not stop their alpha’s mate from continuing. “He passed out from the adrenaline after the entire thing was over—Namjoon and I had to scare a lonely lioness before she could take the prize. Isn’t that right, Joon?”“He was overwhelmed. It’s understandable, considering how he grew up hunting with his brothers.”“Well, now I feel bad for making fun of it,” Seokjin chuckles softly. “You’re making your mate look like a jerk, alpha.”Namjoon shrugs. “We know it wasn’t your intention to be mean about that.”Taehyung chuffs from where he is resting halfway on Jeongguk’s lap. Occasionally, he catches Jimin sneaking glances at them, pouting to himself, and he feels silly inside—happy, hopeful, like maybe he is not the only one silently lamenting the distance. He is not the only wants who yearns more.“How about you, Jeongguk?” Yoongi frames his question gingerly. He seems apologetic and cannot hold eye-contact for more than a few seconds before he is glancing away. “Any story featuring other predators messing with you?”It takes Jeongguk a while to answer, as if he could not believe that Yoongi was acknowledging him.“No, I can’t—” Jeongguk coughs when his voice cracks and visibly swallows a hard lump. He glances at Namjoon for reassurance and when their hyung nods encouragingly, his dimple-smile on display, he relaxes enough to continue. “I’m not allowed to participate in any hunting until I’m twenty-one, so no. Not stories yet.”“Oh…” Yoongi glances back at Jimin, for moral support as well, and then regards Jeongguk with those grey, enigmatic eyes. It is rather fascinating how they are so alike. “Is that some kind of policy from that reserve you live in? No hunting before majority of age?”“Not really. It’s just—ah, it’s complicated.”“How so?” Yoongi inquires.“I’m sort of, uh, special.”Jeongguk’s spirits sink. His demeanor turns sullen and Yoongi, bemused, shrinks with him.But there is something pushing Yoongi to pry for more, that makes him want to temper the tension and amend the sudden misstep.“I don’t know if you remember, but you liked chasing butterflies and moths when you were little. You were really good at catching them…” He flushes a pale pink as Jeongguk’s scent thickens around them, sweetening so pleasantly. “You brought me an orange-bellied squirrel once. I still have no idea where you even managed to snatch it from, but—well, you were always natural.”You were always natural. Taehyung knows the potential of those seemingly harmless words to destroy Jeongguk inside. He hopes he redefines them. He knows he is capable of doing that.Their youngest’s case is extraordinary. He is not bound to some intransigent rule about majority of age—no one is, actually. The handful of cubs born in Smilodon are imparted the basics of hunting when they become thirteen and are allowed to hunt in groups once they are sixteen. The process to perfect their own technique extends for a while, naturally, with no external pressure whatsoever.By the time they are nineteen, the majority of ailuranthropes have succeeded on killing a big prey by themselves. As a matter of fact, Taehyung was almost eighteen when he tackled and suffocated his first wild boar, a week prior the big-headed buffalo that scared the hell out of Hoseok for months.But Jeongguk arrived at Smilodon when he was fifteen and half. He was so young, yet he carried more blood on his hands than the four of them combined, and the amount of guilt and hate hunching his shoulders was impossible to describe. Taehyung whimpers just with the memory of it.Jeongguk’s abnormal size, almost as robust as a jaguar, was the product of hormonal treatments his owners put him through to beef him up for fights. Smilodon’s staff agreed on keeping Jeongguk away from hunting until he showed improvement, not exclusively physical but emotional as well. It goes unsaid that they truly feared what being exposed to aggression could do to him.It took him over a year to get approved by his physiotherapist, and a couple of extra months for the psychiatrist to give him a green light to move in with them and slowly integrate himself in their routines. Around that time, it was decided he would have to go through the same learning period as most teenagers. He was relearning many things in the reserve, and hunting was one of them. They needed for him to decide if he would ever get down to killing again, or if he would rely on his leap for the rest of his life to keep him fed.Eighteen is the official majority of age in the park, when adults can be kicked out of their mothers’ groups, when they are permitted to work eight-hour shifts at the human-aimed jobs. But with Jeongguk, things were different.Majority of age means for Jeongguk the final step to bury the wreckage of his past and leave it behind—a past that is coming back with a rather odd timing.“Your silence means that I fucked up again, didn’t I?” Yoongi croaks after a long pause. He looks stricken and sick. “Fuck. Fuck.”When Jimin’s palm kneads Yoongi’s thigh, Taehyung brushes his chin against Jeongguk’s white knuckles, so he knows he is not alone. Never again.They are a family. Through thin and thick.There are dewy drops clinging to his eyelashes, grief greying his youthful mien, yet Jeongguk still grins that cut, bunny-smile at him. Taehyung pushes his nose into his bellybutton and does not even protest when Hoseok propels himself on his back to lick Jeongguk’s chin, scenting him.Once the cheetah is done with his ministrations, Taehyung removes himself from the group and walks over to where Namjoon sits, nudging his hand to receive the small present back. He is tired of postponing, of waiting for something that might never come.Namjoon clears his throat and addresses both Yoongi and Jimin with an uneasy countenance.“Perhaps it’s not the most ideal moment, but I don’t think we should delay this discussion,” he says. “I have a few questions regarding the wolves’ conduct and this entire setup. Of course, you’re not obliged to answer, especially if I’m overstepping any boundary, but we’re here for a reason and I believe it’d help our cause if you were frank with me.”“You’re here for a reason,” Jimin repeats, curious eyes following Taehyung closely.“What do you want to know?” Yoongi asks.The tiger reaches Jimin as their alpha begins explaining Mrs. Bae’s petition for Jimin’s transference, and the obstacles he faced when trying to investigate for more. He tunes it out and drops the necklace on his lap, staring up at him, nervous, expectant.Jimin’s expression contorts with confusion before the tension recedes and surprise overtakes it.He picks the present and examines it meticulously, and Taehyung cherishes the twinkle that appears in his gaze, and the breathtaking smile that blooms afterward. Jimin’s scent becomes a syrupy tidbit and Taehyung soars with pleasure when he notices that blood has gathered on Jimin’s cheeks in form of a lovely blush.“Oh, Taehyung, you didn’t have to—”Twigs snap nearby. Hoseok and Taehyung swivel spontaneously at the noise, widening their mouths, ears instinctually shifting backward.
Are you a senseless cub? How could you have lowered your guard?
Don’t be stupid. You could put Jimin at risk.
Less than one hundred meters away, two figures emerge, deer-like animals with dainty legs and branched spikes on top of their heads. The dim nightlight baths their reddish fur preciously, like autumn leaves ready to be carried away by chill zephyrs. The picture is rather beautiful, and Taehyung is left wondering just what are they. The bigger one, definitely a male, has lyre-shaped antlers he has never seen before.The group of felines instinctively relocate, ducking under the barrier of lake vegetation around them before they can be spotted by the newcomers. Night breezes are on their side, carrying the scent of the antelopes toward them and not the other way around. Faintly, the urge to stalk-run-pounce begin to shimmer under his skin, a timid but powerful murmur growing in the back of his head.
Stalk-run-pounce.
Stalk-run-pounce.
Stalk-run-pounce.
“Oh,” Jimin perks up, mesmerized, as the couple treads over the shore to take a sip. “Those are…”“Yeah,” Yoongi whispers. “Prairie ghosts.”“Prairie what?” Seokjin squeaks at the same time Hoseok tries gliding under Taehyung. Ghosts are one of the terms forbidden from being pronounced around those two.The sudden rustling alerts the animals, but the novelty lasts shortly and soon they are bending and lapping at the water again, unmindful of the group of felines at the prowl.Taehyung has pinned the cheetah down with a single paw to keep him subdued. He feels no remorse.Namjoon glances at the antelopes’ fluffy rears, intrigued.“You mean—are those pronghorns?”“Yeah,” Jimin wears a pensive frown, hands caressing his necklace almost reverently, and Taehyung is so proud, he can barely contain his grumbling. “So that’s why the reward this year’s so generous. Yoongi-hyung, you were right.”“What do you mean?” Seokjin asks.“You heard the conditions for this exhibition, didn’t you? That the directive board offers rewards for whoever wins this stupid thing,” Yoongi speaks up, steady, impassive. His eyes are following the slow movements of the prairie ghosts. “Better accommodations, new equipment for any faculty, less work-load for a defined period… less clients to escort and please, that kind of stuff.”A heavy silence meets his explanation. Taehyung’s blood runs cold.
Clients? Escort?
Whore, he remembers the nasty voice of Mrs. Bae’s son. His tiger grumbles, displeased by the memory.“There were rumors,” Yoongi flatly continues, and Taehyung is painfully aware of how both Jimin and him avoid turning their heads their way. “Presumably, no predator has caught one of those even-toed bucks before—not in million years at least. The partners know that,” his aspect darkens as he clenches a fist on his lap. “They’re called prairie ghosts because they’re fast, faster than any animal, than any shapeshifter in the menagerie.”“This year reward’s dangerously kind,” Jimin chimes in, absent-minded, staring at the antelopes with a frown. Taehyung has so many questions he wants to ask him, so many things he wants to say to him. He cares about his wellbeing, his happiness. “They promised to grant any wish to the winners—whoever catches at least one couple can ask for anything and the board’s obliged to comply. Or so they say.”“It’s a foul play, of course. A mocking provocation to remind us of our place. Even if there were any species naturally capable of taking them down here, it’d be a challenge with our lack of experience. Nobody knows how to be a good beast in Megatherium,” Yoongi grunts. “It’s fucking ridiculous.”“What would you wish for?” Jeongguk queries dully when no one dares to say more. He seems to have recovered from the client-escort revelation better than the rest. “Yoongi-hyung?”This time, Yoongi is not the only one who seems heartsick as the silence stretches, grating and discouraging, but Jimin as well.“To get out of this hell, I guess.”Taehyung aches when Jimin nods in agreement, a mournful smile flitting across his face as he looks down and cradles Taehyung’s necklace against his heart. His normally divine scent becomes a tang of salty unhappiness, and Taehyung just—he cannot stand that.His amber eyes zip up. He glimpses at his hyungs in human form, both contemplative, immersed in a quiet conversation. He peeks at Jeongguk then. And he cannot cough, cannot vocally demand their cooperation, yet he does not doubt that they sympathize with them.Then, Seokjin and Namjoon look at each other, resolution and understanding swirling in their bright eyes, and nod simultaneously. That is all the confirmation Taehyung needs to goad Hoseok with his nose, to noiselessly tell him to move. It takes a brief moment of understanding before the cheetah is wriggling out of their hideout, shoulder blades leveled, ears bowed back, eyes glistening with attention as he eagerly crawls away.“We’ll round it,” Seokjin mouths and motions over to Namjoon.Without further addition, the white lion worms away, languidly stretching his limbs.“What? What are you doing?” Yoongi warily asks.Namjoon gives him a pointed look.“Are you guys out of your mind?” He hisses, jerking his hand forward to grasp their alpha’s wrist, keeping him from leaving. He looks frightened, and annoyed, and so tired. “Those must be trained pronghorns—especially conditioned to be high-impact runners. You’ll wear yourselves out trying to just grab them. If the savages roaming around find you weakened...” He shakes his head. “It’s useless.”“We’ll see about that. They might be fast mammals, but Hoseok’s the fastest mammal on earth. He broke a record, you know,” Namjoon simpers, marvelously poised. Yoongi does not look assured or any less conflicted, and though Namjoon seems to want to assuage his worry, to exercise the same consideration he saves for his coalition, he only gestures to their youngest member with a confident, inviting smile. “Guk-ah, come with me.”The snow leopard flinches at that. Taehyung’s tail stills in shock.Oh, oh, oh—the baby of the streak will be joining us tonight?Jeongguk blinks, once, twice. “Namjoon-hyung?”“No,” Yoongi instantly interjects, decisive, borderline frantic. “No. You can’t go, Jeongguk—it’s too dangerous. People here are monsters under furry skins—please. Please.”Namjoon has already made up his mind. He leaves the choice up to Jeongguk, hearteningly patting his back on his way, showing him how much his trusts him by calmly strutting away with an exposed nape. He disappears behind the chain of trees in a blink, keeping his tail high and footwork light, mingling with the darkness with an easiness that would never put on doubt his skills. His shadow draws a beeline to the general space to where the pronghorns could flee in case they seek coverage within the forest—which would not be a wise decision, considering they are used to dash off across expansive fields and grasslands. Just like Hoseok has told them before, obstacles jeopardize fast speed.In all, what they are about to execute is a tactic they developed after listening to Seokjin’s anecdotes passed down from his mother’s pride. Splitting up to entrap the prey. They all know it by heart now, even Jeongguk does, after countless times watching it unfold in Smilodon. For them, hunting is part of their daily routine. The effort, the risk, the thrill—they seek it.Taehyung stays where he is, studying Jeongguk’s torn expression. The emotions that parade through his gaze are tremendous—from desire to grief, from happiness to sheer panic. Hoseok is anticipating the cue a few meters ahead, lowered behind a bush, watching the ungulates quench their thirst. His tail is impatient, but it does not matter, not when they know that such budding excitement can be used on their favor.Jeongguk has less than thirty seconds to choose before Namjoon signals the outset of the hunting. The young snow leopard seems tattered, appears ready to sit back and stay out of the whole ordeal for Yoongi’s sake, and Taehyung is beginning to think he will withdraw—but then, his jaw resets at the last moment, gritting with determination, and he is waddling away.“I’m sorry, hyung—” He softly calls without turning back. “But they’re my leap.”Taehyung’s pride skyrockets. He is in a particularly good mood to tackle down a challenge.Yoongi sees him go. He turns to Jimin, and Taehyung immediately detects his sadness.He does something uncharacteristic of him and knocks his head against Yoongi’s chin. This is also for you; he wants to convey. Yoongi scrunches his nose and shoves him away, and Jimin has to cover his mouth to stifle a laugh. He has the sudden urge to knock Jimin off and pamper him.Taehyung has no more time to spare, however, for Namjoon cracks a branch to spook the pronghorns and that is how they all know the pursuit has started. The ungulates are daring animals, prancing closer to the source of noise, curious and blatantly unafraid. They are aware they are faster than the noisy multitude of predators, that they have not gotten a natural enemy to fear.Regardless, they are less than one hundred meters away, and Hoseok can surpass that range in seven seconds. He just needs to trip them. Once down, they are done for.Seokjin strolls out of the bushes first, approximately half a kilometer away from where the pronghorns hover. His resplendent fur reflects golden highlights at starlight, like a cascade of stars. He is lengthy, elegant, delicate in a way that is unique. He firmly shows no interest for the pair of antelopes watching him and keeps the act up as he leisurely approaches the lakeside. The pronghorns pause to seize him up, debating whether he is a threat or not. Seokjin does not bother glancing their way, strutting over, and stooping to drink.Hoseok takes advantage of the diversion and moves. He treads painstakingly first, mindful of his weight so the crunching of grass is not loud, so keen ears will not detect him immediately.Then, he gains speed. He flies like a bullet.They sense him instantaneously but without enough time to distance themselves to outrun him, for Hoseok’s momentum is excellent.It happens in ninety seconds. Hoseok hardly touches the ground. He reaches the doe first and swipes to strike a joint from her hind legs—he does not miss, fortunately, so she tumbles sideways. He briefly skids with her. He recovers soon (see, his unretractable claws come handy!), vaults over her fallen body and continues the chase, accelerating to reach the buck.Before the doe has an opportunity to recover and bounce back onto her hooves, a big snow leopard is pouncing out of a tree and slamming her down with a brutal elegance. Jeongguk’s weight virtually crushes her, mouth attaching to her neck for a swift, painless kill.“What the fuck, he’s fucking huge—”Taehyung races with Yoongi’s words dying behind him, bypasses Jeongguk and the doe, and runs faster at the sight ahead. Fifteen seconds have gone by already, and Hoseok has about thirty seconds to get the male before the stress of the hunt forces him to rest. If they lose the other now, it would be unfeasible to catch it.The male pronghorn cannot advance, not after spotting Seokjin obstructing the path ahead, so he withdraws and darts toward the dense foliage, directly at the trap Namjoon has set up—dark as the night itself, his body blends well and he remains unseen until it is too late.Taehyung hears it: Namjoon dives at the same time Hoseok sprints faster to strike the hinges, but the cry of a buck meeting its fate does not come; they both miss as the sneaky male swings without tripping, and gallops back into the shoreline.
Twenty-six seconds.
Namjoon alerts them with a booming noise of their failure, but Taehyung and Seokjin already know, seeing as the buck bursts of the bushes by himself, startled when he identifies more danger around. They manage to crowd the sneaky animal, cornering him between a rock and a hard place.Seokjin has left a considerable gap between the buck and himself, enough that the pronghorn could attempt to flee with fortuitous skill, yet the white lion’s taunting sway makes him falter.
Thirty-eight seconds.
The pronghorn kicks his legs against the ground and huffs, black eyes skittering from Seokjin on his right to Taehyung at his left, then finding Jeongguk less than fifty feet behind, positioning himself to try a second leap—the buck grows uneasy as Namjoon reappears, too, obsidian mane all polished and regal, and then Hoseok jumps out of the bushes, a little out of breath, blocking the last corner he might have used to escape.
Forty-nine seconds.
In a last drastic attempt to sidestep the felines and get to an open area to run, the buck plunges his body into the lake. In the wild, antelopes and bovines sometimes seek refuge in rivers to complicate the path of lionesses, wolves, and other predators.The ailuranthropes do not know this, but pronghorns are fantastic swimmers.But the pronghorn does not know that so is Taehyung.He rushes into the shallows as his unpreoccupied streak loiters by the lakeside, water splashing noisily as it breaks and smashes against his legs. The buck is speedy, shimmies faster than most preys he has witnessed swimming. However, water has slowed him down considerably, enough for Taehyung to be on a par with him.A minute.A mental chronometer ticks inside his head—it takes him about eleven seconds to reach the buck, another six to jump on his back before he can climb on land. He buries his claws to keep him in place and once he moans hollowly, the four big cats fret by the shore, attentively anticipating the moment to celebrate their triumph.Taehyung struggles with the buck, careful of those small horns, before his mouth is clamping around the neck, crushing the bone and windpipes almost instantly.When he is done, his mind fractures. His tiger waits for him to mourn a little, like he always does. He allows it only for a few seconds because dark waters are dangerous and the last thing he needs is a crocodile or the likes wrestling him for this prey. The tiger hauls the limp body out, lets Namjoon drag him beside the corpse of the doe. The cheetah nuzzles the stomach, and Taehyung nearly snarls out of instinct—watch it, that’s my kill—, but none of them is hungry, so they do not disembowel. Maybe the staff will be nice enough to pack the meat for their trip back.Sudden glee has Taehyung prancing over to where Jeongguk is eyeing the doe with evident awe, and licks a big strap of soft fur, from his neck to his ear, then puts all his weight on him. Soon enough, the rest of the streak is cheerfully budging them, Seokjin going as far as snatching Jeongguk out of Taehyung’s hold to press him down into the ground and groom him.Jeongguk has just had his first triumphant kill.Yoongi and Jimin cautiously step closer, eyeing the animals laying still on the shoreline. Their scents are rich in confusion and curiosity.“You just—” Jimin chokes, breathless, flickering a glance at the corpses, expression mildly scandalized. “You—you killed them in—like a minute—you’re just—”“I’m both impressed and downright terrified,” Yoongi rasps out.Jeongguk swats at Seokjin’s heavy head and slides away from him to saunter over Yoongi, sizing the doe’s slim leg and pulling it along so he can present it to him.And that is honestly so rare, even for them, to see a wild feline willingly offering his food to someone else, an outsider. He resembles a domestic ailuranthrope, bringing mice and small animals to their owners.Taehyung and the streak keep themselves back as they watch the exchange.Yoongi stares at the doe, wide-eyed, flustered. He gives Jeongguk a long, unreadable look.“Just like when you were little. Told you, you are natural,” he softly says, with tears shining in his eyes and a laugh stuck in his throat. Jeongguk pushes his nose onto Yoongi’s slender thigh, and he shakes with it. “Ah—careful, Guk-ah. You’re crazily huge.”“So…” Jimin comes closer, steps faltering when he sees Taehyung. He looks scared, but not of him per se, not when he kneels in front of him and presses a kiss onto his wet head. “What now?”A light blinds from above. One of the drones is focusing on them. Humans are speaking, there is a siren echoing in the distance.You claim your prize, Taehyung thinks, pushing himself against his neck, closing his eyes as Jimin starts crying, and come home with us. With me.So... here are some visuals for the last part. not for everybody, though!
hobi's cheetah inspiration
kookie's leopard inspiration
tae's tiger inspiration
Here is a plus because Ilove wolves so much!