A week later Jongin had hired a minibus- yes, a minibus, because accessibility was never an issue for a prince- and was driving the group to Adai, the unofficial Skinwalker capital of Indion. Sehun was sulking up in the passenger seat next to him, will broken and pride trampled; the rest of the boys were scattered through the bus, with Xiumin seated beside the window at the very back. And this man in particular had mixed feelings about the entire situation.

On one hand, he knew that he was doing the right thing. The boys had met up most days since Jongin had gathered them all on the Monday, and strategies had been discussed. Demons were tough opponents- but they all knew, Xiumin especially, that by combining the fighting styles of both societies that they could be beaten. Xiumin had drawn up a chart of Walkers he was going to recruit- yet there was a small nagging at the back of his brain, the Skinwalker within him telling him to forsake the Shifters.

He ignored the voice though, focusing on the real issue. In a year, the King of Indion would be declaring war to Issia, an island country of farmers- that is, if Issia even still existed. It was one of the closest countries to Defluo after all- if the demons were left to fester for too long, they could... migrate.

The skyscrapers of Adai were beginning to become discernible in the horizon, after only two hours or so of driving. Xiumin's chest constricted with something somewhat bittersweet. It felt both good and strange to be going home.

Kris growled as the buildings of Adai began to come into view. Coming home should've felt great- unless you were Kris, in which case it was tedious. He whipped his head around to shoot the black panther loitering behind him a tired look, as if to say "Must we really do this?"

The cat gave what Kris interpreted to be a grin, bobbing its sleek black head in a nod. Kris growled again, the sounds rumbling through the large chest of his current form; a cheetah. It was the easiest for speed, and Zitao had said they needed to get to Adai fast.

"There'd better be a good explanation then," he snarled telepathically at the boy behind him; he was received with a bemused snort, and he could swear that Zitao actually heard him. Then there was a sharp nip at his left hind leg, one that evoked a keening whimper and sent across one message to the elder. Move.

His legs kicked into action, the sinewy limbs doing what they did best- run. It didn't take too much effort really, and was far faster than the cars he could faintly hear buzzing through the city streets. It was a pain he'd have to turn when they reached the outskirts, but somewhat necessary. He couldn't risk being mistaken for a Shapeshifter, as Walkers quite often were- such assumptions would hinder his journey. Walkers liked to throw eggs at Shapshifters who trespassed in their town, and Kris had unfortunately learnt from experience how annoying egg shells were in fur. And later, hair.

He couldn't understand why Zitao was forcing this upon him though. After all he'd done... He'd taken the boy in, gone hunting with him. Zitao knew exactly how much Kris despised his home- so why, why would he drag him back?

He'd first met Zitao in Athe, a country of three islands a few days by boat from the eastern Indion coast; he attended the mountain institute for 'specials', and had, as fate would have it, been waiting for Kris for a month prior. He was only 19, and Kris found him annoying at first, but the boy had latched onto him like glue. Later, he'd explained to Kris that the elder had no choice but to accept him, that it was fated. Zitao would know; he was a Seer.

Zitao saw threads, possibilities of the future. Nothing was determined until it actually happened, and every choice up until the very moment before an action occurred could change the outcome. He saw the possibilities of the future, which was a lot more than Kris would ever see. Apparently letting Zitao tag along with him was best for everybody, Kris included, so he didn't object. Zitao hadn't explained everything- or perhaps nothing would be a better fit- but he had stressed the importance of visiting Adai at this particular time. Kris just wanted to know why.

He'd left home at the age of 21, fresh out of the hell of Adai academy. As if high school wasn't bad enough, his father had to latch another 3 years of schooling onto the end of it. By that time, he was already established as a world-class hunter. And that wasn't Kris boasting, it was the plain truth. He walked a legend amongst Skinwalkers, his exploits in his 9 years of senior schooling and three travelling afterwards spoken of as glorified tales between children and elders both. It was a well-earned title; the number of animals he'd slain were uncountable, unless one were to rummage through his locked and guarded chest of pelts. His preferred form was a total mystery, and somewhat of a legend. Nobody knew what it was- Zitao aside, because apparently Zitao knew everything- and Kris was going to keep it that way.

"Kris." A voice drew him out of his thoughts. What was previously just skyscrapers in the distance was now mere metres away; turning around, Kris saw Zitao in human form and grinning mischievously. "Kris, turn now," he ordered, smile still plastered on his face. Kris wanted to tell him how creepy it was, but literally couldn't. And so instead, he haughtily turned his back on Zitao and began to change shapes.

It was a strange sensation. One had to focus in the desired form, envision themselves wearing the pelt of the form like a jacket. Kris personally always imagined draping the pelt over himself like a thick, woollen blanket, covering every inch of his body in the fur, and when going human he simply took the blanket off; that was his secret, one that only him and his brother knew of. And Zitao too, most probably.

He felt his skin shift and stretch, body tingling in a way that wasn't entirely unpleasant, but wasn't incredible either. Some Walkers loved the feeling of turning, but Kris wasn't one of them. It was tolerable. Seconds later, he stood before Tao- a slight bit taller, but not towering- with a fierce glower adorning his face.

"I don't want to be here," he snarled as he straightened out his worn leather jacket, patting his back pocket for the square of cheetah pelt there.

"I know." Zitao grinned, flashing straight, white teeth, then strode right past Kris. "Hurry up," he called over his shoulder, "We don't want to be late!"

"Late for what?!" Kris hissed, speeding up so as to catch up to the other tall male. He glared at Zitao when he fell in beside him, hands slipping into loose pockets at his sides and balling into frustrated fists. As the sparse suburbia quickly thickened, Kris marvelled at how unlike other cities at was. Compared to Malason, Jaedue even, Adai was so small. It felt so much like home.

Kris had left home for a multitude of reasons. Boredom was one. His family was another- and probably the most prominent, now he thought about it.

His younger brother wasn't the big issue, but part of it. He resented Kris, resented Kris like Kris resented him. Both brothers had their reasons; Kris was successful, and so his brother was envious. His brother's mother was alive, so Kris was envious.

In a roundabout way, this brought him to his mother, or rather, his lack of. Kris' mother had disappeared when he was young, 2 years old to be precise. Less than three years later, he had a new mom and a younger brother to boot. Kris didn't mind that much; his father's new wife raised him as her own, and Kris saw her as such. As he grew older though, he noticed his father's tyrannical patterns. To the old man, women weren't equal, and weren't meant to be treated the same way as men, weren't meant to receive as much respect. Kris noticed it and couldn't bear it any longer- his mom didn't make any effort to break the cycle, and so neither did Kris. He just left. It probably wasn't right, but Kris is no saint. He's a person, and people sometimes opt for the easy way out, for the escape.

Zitao of course k