There’s an old white buffalo myth in village history, wherein a white buffalo is spiritually bound to the first human it comes into contact with.  I don’t believe in myths.

                Hiding it is easier than I expect.  The calf trails behind me, twigs crunching softly beneath its hooves as we make our way into the dark recesses of the forest.  With a quick glimpse to ensure we’re alone, I seat myself on a log, and within seconds, its upper body lies on my legs, its tongue running over my cheek.

                “Gross, get off, get off!” I whisper, jerking backward as I push it away from me and use my sleeve as a towel.  “What are you, a dog?”

                Its round black eyes are gentle, a slight glint to them as the buffalo at my palm timidly, seemingly apologetic for painting its saliva across my face.  Heaving a sigh, I reluctantly pat its head, cursing under my breath when it rests its snout on my lap and gazes up at me.  As much as I hate to admit it, I find the calf adorable.

                So I keep it hidden in the depths of the dense brush, checking on it—or him, as I later determine—at several intervals throughout the day.  I name him Kris after my late grandfather and tell myself that it’s the most affection I will ever show.

                I’m successful for two weeks.

                “Guys, guys!” Jongin exclaims, charging full speed into the house, skidding to a stop when he spots us at the dining table, Sehun on his heels.  “There’s a, there’s a,” he struggles to catch his breath.

                “There’s a white buffalo!” Sehun finishes for him, Jongin nodding vehemently as I nearly spit out my dinner.

                “What?” I manage to squeak.  They couldn’t have possibly found him.  They only search at the edge of the forest.  I frown to myself.  What do you care?

                “We went exploring.”  Sehun beams at me as if he’s made the most wonderful discovery in the history of his existence.  “I was going to shoot it, but wouldn’t it be more impressive if the future chief had a good archery story under his belt?”

                My fork drops from my fingers, clanking onto the table.  “You were going to what?”

                Sehun’s smile fades.  “We’re supposed to kill white buffalo, aren’t we?”

                “Technically, we have to perform a sacrificial ceremony,” Baekhyun says between bites, glancing at me when I keep my mouth shut.  “Right, Chanyeol?”

                Before I can find the words to defend Kris, my father emerges from his room, clad in his meeting robe.  “What’s all the fuss about, boys?”

                “We found a white buffalo!” Jongin chirps.

                As village chief, my father has his fair share of serious moments, but at the mention of the boys’ news, his expression darkens as I’ve never seen before, his mouth a tight line, brows drawn.  “Are you sure?”

                “Yeah, it was eating in the forest.”

                “That’s much too close to the village.  Now are you sure you saw a white buffalo?”  His shoulders are tense, motionless.

                Sehun nods.  “I tried chasing it, but it didn’t seem to be afraid of me.”

                The air in the room is too still, too stale.

                “You boys go on and capture it.  I’ll prepare the stake.”

                That’s all I hear before I push away from my seat and bolt outside, running toward the forest as fast as my legs will take me.  Kris is chewing lazily when I catch sight of him five minutes later, and he ambles over to me quickly, poking his nose against my thigh.  I crouch down to his eye level, grasping the fur on his neck.

                “Go,” I gasp out.  “They’re coming for you.  They’re going to kill you if you stay.”  I shake him a little for emphasis, and his eyes grow larger.  “Go.  Run.”  With my eyes on his, I let go of his fur and repeat it, as if he can understand me, as if he can understand the danger he’s in.

                And he does.

                Speeding through the forest and dodging the trees expertly, Kris runs for his life.

                All I can do is watch him disappear and stay silent when the others approach, nets and ropes at the ready.  I vow to myself to find him again, if only to ensure a successful escape, to ensure his safety.

                Because whether I like it or not, whether it’s a myth or a fact, I’ve been bound.