By getting that cat , Lu Han of course has not a single idea what he is supposed to do. For the rest of the evening before dusk, he reads and rereads his log book, manuals on hybrid interaction techniques, reports of encounters with both Xiumin’s parent wildcat, and also some about the African colony which by most accounts is thriving in small groups of threes and fours scattered about various plateaus across multiple national borders. None of it seems entirely helpful. The population of wildcats worldwide is listed as under fifty. Even in their heyday a hundred years ago, human researchers knew little about them and understood them even less.

It’s frustrating, that mankind has known and domesticated whole breeds of felines small and large going back as far as the ancient civilizations and yet they still don’t understand the hybrid kind. Mankind has known of (and at least slew) dozens of other hybrid species since then as well. Most are thought completely extinct now. Whole evolutionary lines of half-human half-animal creatures whose bodies displayed the distinct characteristics of both were the first to go. The centaurs, the fauns. The last harpy reported alive died as late as six hundred years ago. Mermen and mermaids disappeared from recorded history shortly after that. Whether they perished completely or went into hiding, nobody knows. The last known sphinx in existence died in captivity during the European Renaissance after a calamitous attempt to mate it with an actual lion.

Those species who could entirely transform into one or the other held out for much longer. The wolves, the felines, some species of ravens. In the tropics Lu Han has read reports about frogmen; fairies are still said to reside in heavily wooded, mountainous regions. There’s credible proof of a species of octopi who live in and out of the water, sometimes on eight tentacles, sometimes on two legs. Lu Han has actually met an elf, though years of survival-based cross-breeding with humans have softened that entire race and smeared some of their once distinctive features.

Lu Han has comrades in the field of hybrid studies who specialize in some of these other creatures, some who live like Lu Han, in and among the animals’ habitats. Others can only explore via ancient, crumbling records.

“Should’ve gone to Africa when I had the chance.” Lu Han berates himself off and on for the rest of the day, thinking of that opportunity he might have taken a year ago to do some reconnaissance work on the wildcat colonies there. There’d only been one, teeny, tiny little problem. It would have put him on the same expedition with his ex.

“Ugghhhhh!”

Lu Han fluffs his hair angrily, furious for no good reason. By nightfall he approaches the situation with a new and firmer resolve: let the wildcat come to him.

It takes a week for Xiumin to reappear at the water spot. Lu Han, gone angsty from no contact, returns habitually at the same place and same time each night. The main difference is he no longer tries to remain quiet. Instead, with unusual plomp and tread he sits in a visible location, munching on snacks and praying he doesn’t attract any less friendly creatures than the hybrid wildcat. It’s relatively safe, as Xiumin is the largest known predator in this part of the reserve. Still Lu Han keeps alert just in case.

He’s more than ready for another meeting with the wildcat.

Two small snaps of a couple pieces of twigs, and a rock goes skittering down the slope into the ravine. Lu Han smiles.

“There you are, beautiful, beautiful creature.”

Across the stream comes Xiumin, sleek and tawny, a fascinating beast. The wildcat doesn’t hesitate when it approaches the watering hole, doesn’t bother with stealth, doesn’t even bother to hide its curiosity at seeing Lu Han across the way taking picture after picture.

“You seem thirsty, little one,” says Lu Han to the cat who at this distance likely can’t hear. It also probably has no idea what Lu Han is saying. “Excellent, excellent. Wow, these shots are going to be beautiful. Now come up here, pretty please? Kitty kitty?”

The wildcat is still watching him, eyes never turning away as it laps at the water. And if circumstances go as Lu Han expects, it will move on shortly and disappear into the night.

So he’s more than taken aback when, Xiumin suddenly hops across the stream, crossing every which way on a few rocks, a fallen log, dipping his toes once in the cool water before re-emerging on Lu Han’s side of the ravine.

“. Now what.” Lu Han keeps his camera ready as the wildcat climbs gracefully up the hill. “Perfect photo-op, Lu Han, don’t mess this up. Oh my god, this is happening. This is happening.”

Xiumin pauses barely a meter away, eyes on the alert, whiskers twitching as its lean body holds still and aloft. At this distance Lu Han can see perfectly the tufts of white hair next to its ears, the spots and patterns on his fur, the slow breathing movements of his chest cavity and the… playful glint of its eyes?

Without warning the cat plops down on its side, its belly, and then deigns to stare off in another direction.

Lu Han takes the shot. Click. Click, click!  

He whispers, “!” as his adrenaline alights. Click. Click, click.

The cat rolls over and stares at him while Lu Han takes a dozen more pictures.

“Absolutely amazing. , you’re beautiful. I just want to roll around with you, how are you even so beautiful.”

At some point Lu Han will remember that he’s talking to an animal whose biology is perfectly capable of turning it into a man. Right now though Lu Han is in love and not afraid to confess it. He’s always been a cat person; since he was born he was a cat person, and likely till the day he dies. He has two chubby tabbies at home who probably hate Lu Han for disappearing on them like he did, but if there’s anything remotely better in life than , it’s getting to cuddle with a fluffy, lovable cat.

It comes as no surprise from the animal’s nature, however, when Xiumin suddenly and without warning stands up. This time Lu Han doesn’t fall away, but lets the wildcat inspect his backpack once again, sniffing at Lu Han’s apparently inedible food stocks. Xiumin sniffs it, appears once again displeased, then turns and marches away.

“Hey, wait!” Lu Han whines when its tail disappears through the brush. “Leaving so soon? And here I thought we were having such a good time.”

At the very least, Baekhyun is going to have a small party when he gets ahold of these pictures.

Again, there’s no sight of the wildcat for almost a week. Other than a few scratchy long distance phone calls with an elated Baekhyun, Lu Han hasn’t had contact with anyone, man or animal. This isn’t too distressing though. Lu Han is something of a homebody (at least when he’s at home), and has never been attracted to a glittering social life. He’s rather carefree and independent, otherwise he’d never be okay working a job like this which requires him to live away from civilization for long amounts of time.

In fact, that’s one of the complaints given to him by his ex. For nights after the breakup Lu Han practically lived in Jongdae’s apartment whining and groaning and being all around — according to Jongdae — insufferable.

“So, what, because I’m not as clingy as some people would have liked, now I’m too independent? What am I then, destined to just live alone forever with my two cats? You know what, screw relationships. I don’t need anybody anyways.”

Jongdae had laughed at him. And eventually he settled down from having laughed at him, and he began explaining the birds and the bees of companionship, which in Jongdae’s worldview was infinitely broader in scope than Lu Han’s.

“Look at this way, Lu Han. I’m a wolf. Or part wolf. Pack mentality and all that, right? Yes. You understand. We spend way more time being touchy with people than the fully human does, not because we need it but because we want it. Get it?”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying not being clingy is not the same as being too independent. You want a relationship not because you need it, but because you want it.”

“So…”

“So, stop beating yourself up about it. Just because you have a greater need for space and alone time and that’s what makes you happy, doesn’t mean you need to be single all your life.”

“...good to know.”

“But don’t date a wolf, man, just saying.”

“Noted.”

After the sixth evening with not a hint of Xiumin, Lu Han returns to his cabin, yawning just as the sun peeks out through the early morning clouds. He’s ready to change his clothes, grab another snack to tide him over, and sleep for half the day.

Only there’s something blocking his doorway.

“Well, this is new,” says Lu Han to the wildcat partly snoozing in the shadows of the overhanging roof. Beside it is another dead hare. “And you brought me breakfast. That’s, that’s really sweet.” Xiumin purrs a little and rotates just a mite. Lu Han clears his throat because this situation is really out of the bounds of his control. Should he just, casually pull out his camera and take a picture or… attempt to approach the wildcat. Maybe pet it? Ask if it wants to come in, watch some movies, take a nap, etc.?

“So, what’s the deal?” he asks, already reaching for his backpack in case the perfect photo opportunity arises.

Xiumin stands before he can even get into position.

“Aren’t you nocturnal? Did you chill out here all night when I was out looking for you?”

Honestly it’s kind of exasperating. If the wildcat was going to make Lu Han work so hard just to return home and find it lounging on his doorstep, well then what the hell should he make of this? He’s tempted to demand an answer, but before he knows it, the wildcat is gone.

Miraculously though, when he picks up the hare it’s to find it injured but still alive. For some reason, instead of butchering the small thing, Lu Han spends half an hour yawning and trying not to fall over himself while he treats its broken leg, binding it, and putting the poor terrified animal in a little cage in the corner of his cabin with a stash of food.

So what, he’s a softy. He names the thing Sehun and promptly plops into his bed, vowing not to move again until dusk.

Xiumin visits him almost every night after that. Mostly without food, for which Lu Han is grateful. He’s not sure if he could handle taking in so many animals, injured, dead, or otherwise, although Sehun has been coming along nicely, happy in his little cage and a healing leg.

Lu Han hasn’t been going anywhere at night, obviously.

“Fourth time in five days.” He checks a mark on his electronic notepad, stretching his back where he sits against the side of the cabin. “I’m starting to think you’ve become fond of me.”

The wildcat purrs and doesn’t move.  

“That’s right. Flirt a little harder, please. I can take it.”

His leg itches. The bugs have been kind of brutal lately, but Lu Han doesn’t usually complain, much. Instead he finds himself talking to Xiumin a lot. There’s a familiarity there that goes along with having no audience but yourself and a feline which Lu Han is well used to from years of living alone. He tells Xiumin about his two cats, how much he misses them. How he suspects they probably don’t give a right this minute but how probably they’ll make him pay when he does go home.

“Not that I want to leave you, Xiumin. You’re excellent company, especially on nights like tonight when.... Well, . It’s… starting to… rain.”

Ignoring the wildcat, Lu Han bolts upright just as the first hard droplets begin to fall. Within seconds the bottom hem of his pant legs are soaked. He curses again, worried about his camera and the devices he’s been haphazardly using throughout each of their nightly ‘sessions’. He fumbles at the door and gets it open just in time for an even stronger deluge. The weather’s like this in this part of the world. Unpredictable, sudden, vengeful.

Lu Han falls through the door with an accompanying gust of wind. “Phew!” he huffs in relief, turning quickly to get it shut.

From the cage in the corner, Sehun suddenly shrieks, and a shadow streaks in, brushing right past Lu Han’s hip.

“What the!” shouts Lu Han. He drops his notepad, no longer concerned with its safety because, “Xiumin!?”

The wildcat hulks in the center of the cabin floor, its coat glossy from the rain, and a pitiful mewl emerges from its jowls.

“Xiumin… Xiumin, don’t do it nooo…” Lu Han bleats frantically. But the wildcat pays him no mind before suddenly shaking out its coat. Lu Han slams the door and cringes, the floor around the wildcat — including part of his desk — now dripping in excess rain drops. “Never mind. You are 100% cat.”

The wildcat turns and glares. Yes, Lu Han is absolutely certain that look was a glare. He gulps.

Sehun is now squeaking frantically nonstop in his cage. Xiumin turns, stalks towards it. Lu Han makes a half step towards them to intervene before he realizes something terrifying. He’s in his cabin, with a closed door, with what’s essentially a predator. And if the wildcat wants, there is nothing to stop it from eating one tiny, little hare.

“Xiumin…” He whines, practically begging.

But the animal barely sniffs the hare before turning back to Lu Han and… huffing one, great time. And Lu Han knows that look. It’s disbelief and condescension all rolled into one great sigh of ‘ humans. Huh.’ But at least the hare appears to be safe.

Of course now there’s another problem. Lu Han, is in a room, with the wildcat.

And there’s no protocol for how to deal with this situation. Hell, he didn’t realize the animal would bolt inside with him. But judging from the downpour outside he can’t really fault him. Xiumin is sitting now in the middle of the floor, his paws and paying Lu Han no mind. Lu Han doesn’t even move, afraid to startle the cat.

After a full minute of this, however, he has to laugh. They’ve been ‘acquainted’ now for weeks, and Xiumin hasn’t ever appeared unfriendly. So what if the wildcat wants to barge into Lu Han’s sleeping space, this is Lu Han’s cabin!

“Alright, Xiumin,” he says warily anyways, “don’t get freaked out but uhm, I am just going to go on about my business and…”

He retrieves his notepad, puts it alongside his camera on the driest part of his desk. Taking pictures right now feels almost a little too invasive. The next part of his routine is usually getting something to snack on. Lu Han skips this because his pants are still wet, and his pajamas are right there thrown across the bottom of his bed.

Sometimes, when Lu Han was little, he used to imagine that his pets at home would stare at him while undressing at night. Too many stories about hybrids and animals that are really humans in disguise. But the cats he grew up and his parents’ little dogs seemed always so inquisitive, to the point where Lu Han would rush to get his clothes off and his new ones put on, laughing when it was all over because, they’re just animals, after all.

Not so with Xiumin, even if there’s been no outwardly indication that he’s part-human. That doesn’t change the fact that Lu Han knows, and that knowledge makes a difference.

“Don’t look, kay?” he laughs, turning his back to remove his shirt. The cold air on his skin instantly chills him. Without waiting to see if the wildcat is paying attention, he exchanges the shirt for his warmest sweater. Only then does he peek. Xiumin has switched paws, but sure enough… he is watching.

Silently, Lu Han curses. He grimaces but goes for the pants anyways, almost tripping in his haste. His socks are disgusting as he stomps on one to pull his foot out without touching. The hair on his legs prickles. “Brrrrrr,” he says out loud, overly mocking himself to get over his nerves. Within seconds, he’s pulled on his pajama bottoms and the relief is immediate.

“Done!”

Because of course Xiumin is still watching, one eye dragging lazily in Lu Han’s direction. According to the clock, it’s somewhere just past five in the morning, and the rain doesn’t seem to be stopping any time soon.

Lu Han sighs and chews on his lip. “If I go to sleep, can I trust you not to eat Sehun?”

He doesn’t delude himself thinking he’s going to get a verbal answer. And in fact, Xiumin makes no other sign of response except to continue his paws, and finally the damp fur on the side of his body.

“Don’t eat Sehun, please,” Lu Han whimpers one last time before crawling into his bed. “Or me.”

The mattress is cold, too thin, and on the lumpy side. But there’s a Lu Han-sized dip in the middle which he’s perfected in the few months he’s slept here. He pulls up an extra blanket, tucks it around his chin, and glances at the wildcat halfway dozing on the floor. “Goodnight, Xiumin.”

Perhaps it’s his imagination, but he swears he hears a soft growl of response.

Somewhere in the late afternoon, Lu Han wakes up. He’s chilled to the bone, all his blankets are still in place. Yawning, he sits up and pulls one of the covers up over his shoulders, perusing the room for the source of the cold. It’s still raining outside. The soft patters against the rooftop are comforting, no longer the deluge of the previous night. Four o’clock, reads the display of his alarm clock on the opposite window sill next to the door.

Which is open by about five centimeters.

“What on earth…” says Lu Han, getting up and bounding towards it to close the door.

There’s no wildcat in the cabin, that much is obvious. But last night he swore he’d closed the door. Moreover, he locked it, a complicated system which requires fingers to maneuver. Which requires human fingers to open…

“Xiumin, what the …”

So, that was chapter 2 :)

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