A/N: So I guess this fic is what happens when you listen to Lion Boy too often...? haha

To give credit where credit is due to my sources of inspiration, along with Lion Boy, I was very inspired by the universe of Fire Emblem: Path of Radiance/Radiant Dawn, my favorite game growing up. A lot of the mechanics of the hybrids in my story calls back to the laguz characters from those games.

One more note: if you're a thirsty coming to this story and remembering that I had promised there would be M content in this story, fear not: I didn't think the entire story merited an M rating, but an M chapter will be popping up much later in the fic ;)

Please enjoy!

Jinyoung washed his hands, watching as the water in the basin turned red with blood. It was a bit unsettling to him how accustomed he was to that sight, how little it bothered him anymore that everything he touched anymore was soaked in death. That was how it was with war—it made the dead and dying far more familiar than the alive and living.

His hands clean, Jinyoung turned to his next patient. The soldier’s armor was ripped open, bearing the signature claw marks of the beast tribe warriors, and the skin underneath was shredded and bloody. The slash had missed his heart, so if Jinyoung was careful, he would most likely be able to mend the wound without risking the soldier’s life. Would that be a mercy, though, he wondered? He’d healed enough men to know that they only survived long enough to be sent back to the front lines for the beast and bird tribes to tear apart all over again.

Still, he’d pledged himself to the war effort to save lives. He had to believe he was making a difference, and that the soldiers he brought back from the brink of death would live to turn the tide of the war and bring an end to it. There had to be some shred of meaning behind it somewhere buried in everything, or else what were they all sacrificing their lives for?

Jinyoung soaked a cloth in water, cleaning the soldier’s wound and clearing away the dried blood surrounding it. The soldier groaned lowly, looking as if he might struggle away from Jinyoung’s ministrations but finding himself too tired to manage it. Jinyoung placed a hand on his forehead. His skin was burning to the touch, sweaty and feverish.

Just as Jinyoung was about to draw his hand away, the soldier’s body jerked, and he snatched Jinyoung’s fingers in a surprisingly rough and vice-like grip, practically crushing him in his urgency. Jinyoung met his eyes, which were wide and crazed, delirious with his fever.

“The crane,” the man rasped. “We must…find…surrender… the Gray Fox King…demands…”

“Ssssh, it’s all right,” Jinyoung murmured softly. “I know it hurts. I’ll give you something for the pain, and when you wake, your wounds will be closed.”

“NO!” the soldier yelled with surprising force. “The war…can end…only…only if…the red-crowned crane …the white winged prince…”

The poor man is spouting nonsense, Jinyoung thought. The red-crowned cranes of the bird tribe had died out decades ago and had nothing to do with the current war with the beasts and the birds. The conflict rested entirely on the shoulders of both tribes for their twisted belief that their bestial powers gave them the right to rule over mankind. It wasn’t the first time they’d tried to take lands from the human tribes, and it wouldn’t be the last.

“We must…we must…” the soldier continued, but his exhaustion was overcoming him. Jinyoung slipped a calming herb between his lips, and slowly he stilled and slipped into a dream.

With a sigh, Jinyoung opened his kit and got down to work finishing up cleansing the wound before preparing it to be stitched closed. If only it was true, and there was some way to end the war without further bloodshed. He would give anything to see peace return to his homeland and the murderous beasts and birds banished back to the other side of the mountain in Calovia where they belonged. But hope for peace was beginning to feel as much a delirious dream as the soldier’s ramblings about white winged princes. It might get him through the night, but when he awoke in the morning, his hands would still be stained with blood, his waking hours filled with the screams of men as the beasts feasted on their flesh.

When he’d finished stitching up the soldier, Jinyoung was at last granted permission by the head medic to return to his tent to rest for a few hours. He washed his bloody hands once more, scrubbed his dirt and sweat stained face clean, and opened the flap of the healers’ tent to step out into the cold night.

It was beginning to snow, he noted with a sense of relief. Winter would be upon them soon, and with it would come a blessed break in the fighting. The human tribes would return for a time to care for their families and homesteads, and the beasts and birds would retreat to Calovia before the storms and blizzards in the northern highlands hindered them.

Jinyoung thought longingly of those few months of ceasefire as his feet crunched through the frost before his ears were greeted by a different sound. It was a sharp whine, followed by the pitiful mewl of an animal in pain. Jinyoung was immediately on his guard, whipping out the knife he kept sheathed in his belt. A beast was near. And even a wounded beast could be lethal.

Jinyoung crept closer, gazing down at the mess of foot and paw prints on the ground. He could see fresh spots of blood on the frost and followed them forward until they ended in a curled-up body shivering in the night air. It was a man’s body, as Jinyoung had suspected, but not a human’s. It was a beast in its shifted, human form, distinguishable from the human tribe only by its white feline ears and bushy tail. Other than these animalistic features, the curled-up form looked like a young, human man either in his twentieth year or younger, fresh and naïve and far too young to be a warrior in this bloody slaughter of a war.

The young beast met Jinyoung’s eyes and whimpered in fright. His body curled further in on itself and shifted into its animal form. This one was a lynx, one of the feline fighting tribes. It had a spear wound on its shoulder, evident in the blood matted around its fur in that spot.

Finish it off, Jinyoung’s instinct demanded him. It was wounded now, but if he gave it time to recover, it would come back and slaughter his people. The beasts were killers. He knew that. No matter how innocent they may look in their human forms, they were all mindless murderers. Give them an opportunity, and they would rend every human man, woman, and child limb from limb and rule from a throne of their bones.  

And yet, this one was just a youth, most likely into this conflict by its elders, just as all the young men barely old enough to grow beards who served in the human tribe army. If Jinyoung killed him, wouldn’t that make him just as heartless of a killer as the beast themselves were?

These hands of mine save lives, he reminded himself. They do not take lives. You promised yourself. You promised you would not let this war turn you into a killer.

 Before he could second guess himself, he sheathed his knife and lifted the lynx into his arms. The beast struggled feebly, but was too weak to fight back or shift forms again. After a moment, it stilled in Jinyoung’s arms and whimpered weakly. Jinyoung carried it into his private tent and set it on his bedroll before opening his kit and pulling out the ointment and thread he would need to clean and stitch the wound.

“Promise me,” Jinyoung whispered to the beast urgently as he worked on its wound. “Promise me that you will go home and not harm my countrymen again. Please don’t make a weapon out of the life I have saved. I beg you.”

The lynx watched him with wide, golden eyes. Jinyoung could not read the beast’s thoughts in his gaze. It had been a long time since he’d spoken to a beast—their respective nations had never been on good terms, even while at peace—and he didn’t understand them enough to even begin to guess how their minds worked.

At length, Jinyoung finished stitching up the wound. The lynx seemed to test it out by taking a few slow paces around the tent. He still seemed to be in pain, unsurprisingly—he would need to get some rest in before he could move around with such a fresh injury.

“You may sleep in the tent for the night,” Jinyoung said. “I promise no harm will come to you as long as you promise to leave and never come back in the morning.”

The lynx still said nothing, but curled up on the ground and rested his chin against his forepaws, settling in.

Jinyoung took a tentative seat on his bedroll, keeping his eyes on the lynx. It would be mad of him to fall asleep with a predator in the room, but there was no denying his exhaustion. Even though he knew better, he couldn’t help but think of the beast in his human form, the young, frightened man who hadn’t looked capable of hurting anyone. He couldn’t think of that version of the beast as a killer.

“I’m trusting you,” he said to the lynx softly. The lynx yawned and close his eyes, and Jinyoung did the same.

He woke up hours later to the sound of a low, rumbling voice. “This is the one?”

“Yes,” a higher voice said. “That’s him.”

Jinyoung opened his eyes. The wounded lynx was standing at the foot of his bedroll, accompanied by a gray wolf with a large black crow perched on its head.

Jinyoung instinctively grabbed for his knife, and the wolf issued a low, threatening grumble from deep within his throat. “Do not even think of it, human,” it said.

“Really, do you actually think you can win against three of us?” the crow cackled. It launched itself off the wolf’s head and landed on the ground in the form of a young man with massive black wings sprouting from his back and feathers threaded through his dark hair. Moments later, the wolf and lynx also shifted to their human forms. Though the lynx towered over the wolf, the wolf looked a few years older and considerably stronger and more brutal.

“Are you here to kill me?” Jinyoung asked, his voice shaking.

“We won't, if you don't give us a reason to,” the wolf said, baring his teeth in a twisted smile. Even in human form, they were worryingly sharp.

“Don’t, Jackson,” the lynx said. “This one is a healer. We need him. None of our healers are familiar with the poison used on the humans’ weapons. This one may know.”

“Do you know?” the crow asked. “We definitely won’t kill you if you do.”

“Poison?” Jinyoung scrambled to get his thoughts in order. “Yes, I have a few antidotes to poisons in my kit. Is one of you poisoned? Do you require my assistance?” He didn’t exactly want to make healing the enemy a habit of his, but if it kept him alive a day longer, he was willing to do what needed to be done.

“Not us,” the lynx, Yugyeom, said. “Someone else.”

“Who?”

“You don’t need to know,” Jackson the wolf responded.

“What do you mean ‘I don’t need to know’? If you want me to help, isn’t it essential that I know?”

“You’ll be healing someone in desperate need of healing. Who it is is not important. It’s as simple as that.”

“And if I say no?”

“You die. Yugyeom won’t kill you since he owes you a debt, but I owe you nothing. And I have plenty of packmates of my own to avenge.”

Jinyoung grimaced. “But if I heal the person in question, I will be allowed to return to my people alive and well?”

 “Yes,” Yugyeom said firmly. “I’ll deliver you back to this camp personally, to thank you for saving my life.”

“Then it seems I have no choice.” He grabbed his healer’s kit. “I assume the one you wish me to heal is in your camp and not my own?”

“Our camp has already packed up to travel back to Calovia,” Yugyeom said. “He is nearby, but hidden.” He pulled a strip of cloth from his pocket. “We’ll need to cover your eyes, just as a precaution.”

“Naturally. Do what you have to.”

As Yugyeom tied the blindfold around Jinyoung’s head, the crow and wolf conversed amongst themselves. “You scout ahead, BamBam,” Jackson said. “Give us three caws if you spot any humans on the path. Yugyeom and I will lead the healer.”

“Right.” After a moment, Jinyoung heard flapping wings as BamBam, most likely in crow form, flew out of the tent.

With the blindfold secured, the wolf and the lynx pulled Jinyoung’s arms behind his back and frog marched him out of the tent. Jinyoung walked blindly forward, steadying his breath. He didn’t feel as frightened as he probably should have, but that didn’t mean a sense of foreboding didn’t follow him as he left the camp. He was leaving familiar territory and entering an unknown. Anything could be waiting for him out there. All he could hope was that the debt the lynx owed him would keep him alive, and that he would be able to return home to Low Lofferin before winter fell and closed off the paths through the mountains.

They walked for thirty minutes in silence over sloping terrain before Jinyoung could hear the crow’s voice saying from overhead, “We've reached the cave.” A moment later, he could hear a woosh of wings as BamBam presumably landed beside them.

Yugyeom pulled off Jinyoung’s blindfold. “The footing is difficult here,” he said. “Mind your step.” He and Jackson didn’t release his arms and continued to march him through the entrance, but having the use of his sight did at least keep him from slipping or snagging his foot on any of the formations within the cave.

As they went deeper into the cave, Jinyoung heard a thunderous and echoing roar suddenly shudder down the tunnel. Everyone froze in place, and Jinyoung’s three guards exchanged a worried glance.

“I’ll go on ahead and check on him,” Jackson said, dropping Jinyoung’s arm. “I’ll restrain him, if need be.”

“He’s in his true form,” BamBam said doubtfully. “Even if you shift, I’m not sure a wolf can hold back a—”

“It’s either that or have him attack the healer.” Jackson shifted into his gray wolf form and charged ahead of them into the deepest part of the cave.

“W-What manner of beast is this?” Jinyoung stammered, his heart pounding. He was feeling properly frightened now. “A panther? A tiger?”

BamBam and Yugyeom exchanged a look, but didn’t answer. They simply resumed marching Jinyoung forward, even as another furious roar echoed through the cave.

Jinyoung prayed they would never reach the end so he would never have to face up to the kind of beast capable of such a sound, but at long last they were emptied out into a dark section of the cave, lit only by a single torch mounted on a sconce. Jinyoung could hear a deep and guttural growling, but it was only when the beast slowly crept forward and into the area illuminated by the torch that Jinyoung saw for himself what was making it.

He almost fell to his knees at the sight. It was a lion. A huge, hulking, red maned lion.

It wasn’t just that lions were the strongest predators of the beast tribe that frightened him. It was that the red maned lion, named ‘The Red Death’ by Jinyoung’s people, was known to be the General of the beast tribe warriors, the most famed and ferocious fighter known to man. Where he commanded the field, hundreds of humans would lose their lives. If the beast and bird tribes were able to conqueror the humans at long last, it would be entirely thanks to the General’s prowess as a leader.

And Jinyoung was supposed to heal him. He was supposed to save the General of his enemies from a deserving death by poison, or face his own death instead.

“I can’t,” he whispered, as he stared into the amber eyes of the red maned lion as it growled at him. “I would only be bringing death to my people, if I saved this beast.”

“You are wrong,” Yugyeom said quietly. “You think the armies the humans have been fighting represent our full strength? Our General has asked the King to hold back in hopes that your people will relent and release the Sacred Prince to us without us needing to annihilate your kind. But if our General perishes, the King will have no one to temper his desire to flatten your human cities and take back what was stolen from him. If the General dies, there will be no negotiating or chance for peace. Only death.”

Jinyoung steadily held the lion’s eyes, swallowing deeply. “And you think the General will continue to hold back on my kind after recovering from nearly being killed?”

“Your chances with him are better than your chances with the King. If you save his life, he will owe a debt to you, just as I do.”

Jinyoung’s hands tightened on his healer’s kit, and he took a tentative step forward. The lion bared its teeth, snarling a warning. Jackson, still in wolf form, padded forward.

“General,” he said in a low and calming voice. “This one is a healer. He has come to cleanse you of the poison.”

The lion did not seem capable of answering. He kept his eyes fixed on Jinyoung and attempted another threatening growl, but this one tapered off into a low whimper of pain. He collapsed slightly onto the ground, eyes closing.

Jinyoung took several more slow steps forward until he was close enough to feel the lion’s ragged breath tickling his skin. The wound was clearly visible on his back, sickly colored and oozing. Jinyoung studied it as carefully as he could, trying his best not to agitate the wounded beast any more than he already was. The symptoms of this poison were easy enough to recognize. The human tribes favored debilitating poisons against the beasts which stripped them of their ability to make swift movements and brutal attacks, yet robbed them of their life slowly so they would experience the worst kind of agony as the poison consumed them from the inside.

“I have an antidote to this,” Jinyoung said, fumbling through his kit for the correct vial. “But it will still take him time to heal and fully regain the proper use of his physical function. I’ll need to drain the wound as well.”

“How long?” Jackson asked urgently. “We must return him to Calovia before the snow pens us in.”

“It will take him about a week of recovery to be well enough to travel,” Jinyoung estimated. “It should be time enough to avoid the heavy snows.” Jinyoung removed the vial of antidote from his kit and glanced warily at the lion’s sharp and gritted teeth. “Could perhaps one of you make him drink this?”

“I’ll do it,” BamBam volunteered. “I don’t think he’d find a crow as tasty as a wolf or a lynx.” He took the vial and gingerly approached the lion. “All right, General. Time for a bit of nightcap. Bottom’s up!”

Jinyoung wasn’t sure how he managed it, but after a little bit of struggle, BamBam had successfully gotten the lion to consume the contents of the vial. Unfortunately, the antidote was just as slow acting as the poison, so it would still be a long night of pain for the beast, and Jinyoung was only going to make it worse.

“I’m going to drain the wound now,” he informed the other three. “Please make sure he doesn’t hinder the process. If I don’t take care of this wound properly, it’ll get infected, and his chances of surviving will decrease, even with the antidote.”

“Understood,” Jackson said. He got in place, pinning the lion down by the shoulders, and Yugyeom looped around the back, pressing down on his hindquarters to keep him on the ground.

The poison in his system kept the lion from being able to move much or throw Jinyoung off his work clearing the pus from his wound, but his roars of pain were a terror to listen to. They seemed to shudder through Jinyoung’s body and shake him down to his very core. It was so much like the screams of agony of the humans Jinyoung tended to, but he hadn’t thought it would move him in the same way, since they were coming from an enemy, the bringer of the same carnage Jinyoung was left to mop up on the opposite side of the battle lines. But some part of him was still able to feel those pangs of sympathy at the sound of another being’s suffering. It was a shame to him that any living thing should reach the point of knowing such pain.

At long length, he finished treating the wound. By this time, the lion has lost consciousness, and was in a fretful slumber on the cave floor.

Jinyoung wiped his forehead of sweat and turned to the three who were still holding vigil over their General. “That is as much as I can do tonight,” he said. “Tomorrow, he will need to eat and drink. Will you be able to get him provisions safely? We are still close to human territory.”

“Jackson and I are good hunters,” Yugyeom said confidently. “And we would risk anything for our General.”

“I will need to eat, too,” Jinyoung added. “Or I won’t be of much use to anyone.”

“We’ll get on it right away!”

“BamBam will stay to keep a watch on the General with you,” Jackson said. He paused for a moment, then added a grudging “Thank you for your service” before flicking his tail and following Yugyeom out of the cave.

“He’s usually less stuck up than that,” BamBam said jovially as his companions left to hunt. “He’s just in a foul mood because the autumn campaign brought many losses to our tribes, and he’s taking it out on you because you’re a human.”

“It brought you many losses?” Jinyoung snapped. “Your people and the beast tribe slaughtered hundreds of my people this season.” 

“Plenty of us were slaughtered, too,” BamBam said mildly. “And our delegation sent to your king to avoid this war entirely never left High Lofferin.”

“I have heard nothing of this delegation.”

“No offense, healer? But you’ve probably heard nothing about anything. Your countrymen are being played for fools with this entire war. Do you even know what you’re fighting for?”

“To defend our homeland.”

“Which implies we attacked first. But we didn’t. Your people made the first strike against us. We only responded in kind, after our entire delegation vanished and our people started being captured and experimented on in your borders. You think we’re trying to conqueror your lands, right? That couldn’t be further from the truth. I suggest when we return you to your camp, you try asking your commanders why they’re really sending you into battle and see how much you like that answer.” BamBam stretched out his wings rather lazily for someone in the middle of a discussion about war. “Anyways, you should probably get some rest. You won’t be able to help the General recover tomorrow if you’re passing out. I’ll wake you if he looks like he needs immediate attention.”

Jinyoung wanted to protest, but his body was betraying him. He’d barely gotten any sleep, and he was feeling exhausted and drained after his ordeal. Already, he felt his eyes drooping shut and his consciousness slipping from him. Perhaps a little rest would do him good, after all.

When he woke, Jackson and Yugyeom had returned to the cave and were currently helping the lion eat small cuts of a rabbit they’d brought back from their hunt. The General still looked weak, but improved from the day before. Jinyoung stretched and rose to his feet, working on the kinks in his cramped limbs.

“We got a rabbit for you too,” Yugyeom said, lifting a skinned hunk of raw meat.

“Thank you,” Jinyoung said. “But, um… I can’t eat it uncooked like you can.”

Yugyeom’s expression fell. “Oh. Right. Uh…I don’t think it’s safe to start a fire in a cave, and if we start one outside, it could attract the attention of human scouts. Bad idea.” His ears drooped. “Well…we picked some berries for BamBam. Can you eat those?”

“Yes,” Jinyoung said. It wouldn’t be as filling as meat, but it was better than nothing. And it wasn’t as if he’d be eating much better at camp, anyways. Their rations were little better than hard bread and soup stock. “Thank you.”

Yugyeom passed him a basket of berries and a canteen of water, and Jinyoung gratefully took a deep drink. As soon as he’d eaten, he turned back to his patient, who eyed him warily with narrowed eyes. He seemed far more aware of his surroundings than he had the day before, but luckily wasn’t growling or snapping at him.

“I’m going to unwrap your wound to make sure it isn’t infected,” Jinyoung informed him. This met with no identifiable protest, so Jinyoung carefully went to the lion’s back and undid the bandages. To his relief, there was no sign of infection or severe discoloration. It still had a ways to go before it was properly healed, but it was at least on the right path.

Jinyoung wrapped it up with fresh bandages and then returned to face the lion head on. “Can you speak?” he asked.

The lion blinked at him for a moment, before at long last a low and rumbling “Yes” echoed through the room.

“Is the pain better or worse than it was yesterday?”

Another lengthy pause. “Better.”

“Do you feel like if you tried to stand up, you would be able to?”

Again, his answer was slow in coming. “No.”

Jinyoung nodded, turning to Jackson, who seemed to be the highest ranking of the three beasts underneath the General. “There’s marked improvement, but it seems his cognitive functions are still being affected by the poison, judging by his slowness and brevity in answering my questions.”

“That might not mean anything,” Jackson said, still tearing into his raw rabbit as he responded. Now that it seemed like the lion wasn’t going to die, his former edginess appeared to have dissipated.  “He does that a lot, even when he's healthy. Not much of a conversationalist when he doesn't want to say anything, our General.”

“I see.” Jinyoung turned back to the lion. “For the sake of assuring you haven’t lost any important mental function to the poison, could you try responding to me as quickly as possible, General?”

The lion's answer came faster this time, and longer. “I am no general of yours, healer,” he said.

“What would you have me call you, then?”

“By my name.”

“I do not know it, I apologize.”

“I am Mark.”

“And I am Jinyoung, if you’d rather not call me ‘healer’ or ‘human’.”

The lion, Mark, didn’t respond this time. He simply looked back at Jinyoung with his fathomless, amber eyes. It was a bit odd, Jinyoung thought. This was The Red Death, a ruthless killer, the bane of the human armies. And yet he didn’t feel like it, when Jinyoung spoke to him. He felt just like all the tired and sorrowful soldiers Jinyoung tended to after battles, who were desperate either to die or go home to their families. He wondered if Mark had such a family waiting for him, where he came from.

After a moment of extended silence, Mark’s eyes shifted to Jackson. “Where are our troops?”

“Returning home ahead of us,” Jackson reported.

“And word of the Sacred Prince's whereabouts?”

“The falcons are winging the report of the red-crowned crane to the King as quickly as possible,” BamBam said with a salute.

The crane again, Jinyoung thought. He had brushed the wounded soldier’s mumbling about the extinct cranes of the bird tribe off as delirium, but this was not the first time one of the beasts had brought it up as well. Perhaps they were not so extinct as they’d been led to believe. Based on how the others were speaking of the red-crowned crane, it seemed as if one was missing or captured within human territories—not that Jinyoung had ever heard of such a rare creature being in their custody.

The lion’s eyes flicked back to Jinyoung. “Does this healer know anything of it?”

“Nothing,” BamBam answered. “He seems convinced of the propaganda the humans spread. That this war is to defend human territories from invasion.”

Mark growled lowly. “We have no interest in these lands. It is arrogance to assume we wish to have anything to do with the territories of those who would steal from us and attempt to destroy us.” His paws twitched slightly, as if he was attempting to move them. “We must leave this place as soon as we are able. It is urgent the king and I strategize as soon as possible.”

“The healer—Jinyoung—says you will at least need a week,” Yugyeom said meekly.

“It must be sooner.” His tone hardened as he addressed Jinyoung. “I am strong. I will recover faster than your countrymen. You were brought here to help me. So help me.”

“I can only do so much,” Jinyoung protested. “And nothing but time will free you from the immobilizing effects of the poison.”

“I do not have time.” Mark grit his sharp teeth, his muscles suddenly straining. Ignoring Jinyoung’s protests not to exert himself, he pushed himself until he had successfully lifted one paw from the ground, though it fell back immediately. “I will not let this poison master me,” he growled.

“You’ll only tire yourself out,” Jinyoung said, though in truth he was mildly impressed. Mark shouldn’t have even been able to move his tail, much less his paw.

“And yet I will still move forward, along my path.” He blinked his eyes slowly. “Healer Jinyoung. Tomorrow, you will help me walk.”

“You are too big for me to help you do anything.”

“I will shift into my human form.”

“Are you strong enough for that?”

“I will be. Today, I will rest. Tomorrow, I will walk.”

With that decided, he closed his eyes again and drifted immediately off to sleep.

“Well, there’s no talking him out of it now,” BamBam said with a shrug. “You should just resign yourself to it, Jinyoung.”

“He’s making a mistake. How long will it take you to travel to Calovia from here?”

“About nine days, if we keep a good pace. I can of course go faster.” He flexed his wings, in case Jinyoung hadn’t noticed them earlier.

“He’ll never be ready for that in just a few days.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Jackson said. “He’s the General for a reason. Feats of strength are what he does best.”

“It doesn’t matter how strong you are. You tear open a wound, it still bleeds. It’s still as likely to become diseased or fester as it is for any other lesser man or beast.”

“The sooner the General recovers, the sooner you can go home,” Yugyeom reminded him. “It’s not all bad.”

Right, Jinyoung thought. Why should I care if he reopens his wound, gets infected, and dies from it? That would make one less beast out there slaughtering my countrymen.

“Are you ever going to explain why you keep talking about a red-crowned crane?” Jinyoung asked, changing the subject. “I thought they died out.”

BamBam, Jackson, and Yugyeom exchanged a quick glance with each other. “Declined,” Jackson said.

“Why?”

“Because anything we tell you, you could report back to the humans. You already know too much.”

“If you want to know about the Sacred Prince, ask your king,” BamBam said. “He knows.”

“I can’t just ask the king to tell me something,” Jinyoung said in annoyance.

“Why not?”

“Because he’s the king, and I’m just the son of a scholar.”

“So?”

“So? Commoners can’t go around bothering the king whenever they feel like it. If you want to speak to the king, you have to be somebody.”

“You are somebody, aren’t you?” BamBam looked comically confused by this.

“I’m not important.”

“Why not?” Yugyeom asked. “You save lives.”

“You were strong enough to even heal a beast,” Jackson added.

“But I’m not from a titled family,” Jinyoung said. “I don’t have money.”

“Humans,” Yugyeom snorted. “Such strange customs. Your medicines and skill saved the life of the fiercest of beasts. Your gold coins would have been useless to him. Your actions more than earned the right to be noticed by a king.”

“Anyone can talk to our king,” Jackson boasted a little. “And he has more pride than anyone I know. He’s regal, but he’s good and kind…or at least he was, before…” He trailed off, sighing.

“Anyone would go crazy, to lose their mate like that,” Yugyeom said softly.

“Anyone,” BamBam echoed.

Jinyoung didn’t follow what they were saying. He knew that the king of the beast tribe was a gray fox, but he’d never heard anything about the king having a mate and losing her. Usually, something like that would have been common knowledge even among the humans. It must have been a secret, something else they probably wouldn’t explain to him if he asked.

He wasn’t even sure how closely he wanted to be following these conversations, anyways. It still unsettled him how similar these three were to the humans Jinyoung had grown up with, despite their tails and ears and wings. Their customs were different, and he wouldn’t soon forget the sight of Jackson scarfing down that raw and bloody rabbit, but that didn’t change the fact that they were still far from the cold-blooded killers Jinyoung had thought them to be.

But at the same time, he couldn’t accept it as the truth. He’d seen the bodies left behind by the beasts and their bird allies. He’d witnessed their brutality firsthand. And if they weren’t the bad side, that meant Jinyoung’s side was, and that couldn’t be true. They hadn’t done anything wrong. All they’d done was take up arms in defense of their lives and families…right?

Thinking of it made Jinyoung’s head hurt. I hate this war, he thought. If only I could make it all go away.

The next morning, he awoke to find Jackson, BamBam, and Yugyeom gone and a strange man sitting in their place in the middle of the room. The man was young and handsome, with a slender but well-muscled build. His hair was thick and framed his face in a tangle of blazing red, and his eyes were brilliant amber. He wore beige robes the color of a lion’s fur that reached to his ankles.

“You’re Mark,” Jinyoung realized slowly. He had been expecting someone far bigger, someone with a hulking frame, staggering height, and a threatening aura. This man didn’t exactly look weak, but he didn’t exactly inspire fear, either. There was something gentle about his face, something almost beautiful that couldn’t help but draw and hold the eye.

“Yes,” the man responded. He nudged a bowl towards Jinyoung. “Eat.”

The hunters had managed to find him pomegranates this time, much more filling than the berries from the day before. Jinyoung ate them greedily, barely stopping to wipe his chin as juice dripped down it. Mark didn’t seem to notice, as focused as he was on his own breakfast, which resembled a possum carcass.

“Where are the others?” Jinyoung asked at length. Jackson was right—Mark certainly wasn’t one to chatter.

“I sent them to another part of the cave.”

“Why?”

“I will surely fall today as I try to walk, Healer Jinyoung. I am their General. I would not like them to see.”

Jinyoung nodded. “It is good that you do not overestimate yourself. This will be difficult.”

“I understand. But I mean to leave here the day after tomorrow.”

Jinyoung frowned. “You know how I feel about that.”

“I do.” He regarded Jinyoung levelly. “Please help me to my feet.”

Jinyoung rose and extended his hand to Mark. Mark took it and, straining, hauled himself onto his feet.

“Practically speaking, you shouldn’t have been able to do that, so already you’re doing well,” Jinyoung said.

“I will do better,” Mark said. He was swaying on his feet a little and sweat was beading on his forehead. “I will try and walk.”

“First, may I check the wound on your back?”

Rather than answering, Mark lowered his robes, exposing his . Jinyoung gently unwrapped the bandages. The wound looked as promising as Jinyoung could hope, but still not healed to the point where he felt entirely comfortable with the idea of Mark walking around as he pleased with it.

“I know,” Mark said, as if he’d read Jinyoung’s thoughts. “But I mean to walk all the same.”

“It’s your life,” Jinyoung said, sighing. He rewrapped the wound. “Here. Lean your weight on me. I’ll hold you up.”

Mark hesitated—lions were supposedly proud creatures, Jinyoung knew—but eventually he shifted his body weight to lean on Jinyoung. Jinyoung wrapped an arm around his waist, holding him steady.

“Let’s try, on my count,” Jinyoung said. “1…2…3…” He shifted their weight forward, and Mark laboriously moved his leg along with Jinyoung. His gait was wobbly and more of a shuffle than anything, but it was progress.

“Again,” Mark said.

“1…2…3…”

It was a long morning of this exercise. At first, Mark could do little more than tiny shuffles forward, and he did in fact fall several times, just as predicted. And yet he persisted, so much so that he denied Jinyoung’s repeated suggestions to take a break, even though he was panting for breath and dripping with sweat. He tried and tried, and eventually he was able to make a few more steady steps forward, with Jinyoung’s support.

“Well done,” Jinyoung said. “Now, I insist we take a break. You’ll faint if we don’t.”

This time, Mark blessedly relented. Jinyoung eased him to the ground and went to fetch the canteen of water for him to drink from.

“If you want my honest opinion,” Jinyoung said as Mark gulped down the water. “You’ll never be able to walk the nine-day journey home after only one more day of recovery.”

“You don’t know me,” Mark said, wiping his lips.

“I know enough to know that me saying you can't do it will make you all the more determined to prove me wrong.”

For some reason, he thought Mark would laugh at this, but he didn’t. “It will. I must leave soon. Lives are at stake. Not just my people’s, but yours as well.” He fixed Jinyoung in his firm gaze. “Why did you come here?”

Jinyoung tilted his head. “To heal you.”

“Why?”

“Because I was asked.” He paused. “Well, threatened.”

“But you would not have done so if you’d had the choice?”

“I had the choice. In a way.” He sighed. “To be honest…I’m not sure. I’m a healer. I try to save lives, where I can. That’s why I saved Yugyeom, even though he was a beast.” He pulled his eyes away from Mark’s. “But with you, I wonder if I could have saved lives by letting you die.”

“You may have. My death would have stopped many from dying. But it would have doomed many others. Time will tell if you did the right thing.”

“An interesting attitude to take.” Jinyoung looked back at him. “Did it insult you, to be healed by a human?”

“I do not hate humans.”

“All beasts hate humans.”

“Do not reflect your kind’s hatred back on us. You fear us. We do not fear you. I hate those among your people who caused this conflict, it is true. They have wronged my king, and they lead your people as pawns to destroy my tribe. It is not worth my time to hate a pawn that does not understand its own movements across the board. I hate the one who directs it. As should you, if you are one who wishes to save the lives of others.” Mark set the canteen aside. “I would like to try again.”

They worked at it a few more hours, and Mark worked his way up to walking slow circles around the perimeter of the room, though he still could not do so without Jinyoung’s support. Still, if he could improve so much in one day, it wasn’t hopeless that he could improve even further the next. Mark apparently wasn’t the sort who could be held back by anything, even the rules of what should have been impossible to accomplish.

In the evening, Jinyoung ordered Mark back to his rest, and the three others were permitted to return to have dinner (a deer carcass split between Mark, Jackson, and Yugyeom, and seeds and grapefruit for BamBam and Jinyoung). After they’d eaten, Jackson and Yugyeom shifted into their beast forms and sparred with each other (Jackson won, but Yugyeom put up a credible fight), while Mark and BamBam discussed the best path home. Jinyoung sat slightly apart, debating his own future. If Mark really meant to leave in two days, that meant Jinyoung would also be going back to camp, and from there to his home in the lowland city of Low Lofferin. Would anyone there believe him if he told him he’d spent a few days holed up in a cave with The Red Death, two beast warriors, and a bird tribe crow? Would they forgive him for not killing them while he had the chance?

Would he be able to return to the battlefield in the spring for marching season, now that he knew his enemies a little better?

It was odd. Just days ago, he could envision the future, the world that could be for him when there was peace. Now, he could see nothing ahead at all. He’d lost all sense of what was coming, and who he even wanted to be.

Mark’s improvement over the next day was rapid. Of course, the antidote was most likely doing its work, but still, it was shocking how quickly he rebounded and was able to regain control over what should have been an exhausted and weakened body. By the afternoon, he could walk around the room without Jinyoung’s assistance, and could switch to and from his beast form without much struggle.

“Well, you certainly exceeded expectations,” Jinyoung conceded. “All the same, I would still urge you to be careful and mind that wound of yours.”

“I’m not planning on traveling home on my back,” Mark said dryly. (So you do have a sense of humor after all, Jinyoung thought.) “And Yugyeom has promised to change the bandages daily.”

“Good. I’ll leave him with some ointment, and a vial of the antidote, just in case.”

“Your generosity will be remembered, Healer Jinyoung.”

“Just ‘Jinyoung’ would be fine.”

“Your profession carries honor. I did not want to overlook it.”

“Really, it’s fine. We aren’t treated that honorably, where I come from. I’m not used to being ‘honored’ with a title.”

Mark frowned. “Then that is not a good human custom. But very well.”

The two fell silent for a moment. Mark made another circuit around the room, and Jinyoung stood, watching him.

“Tomorrow,” Mark said at length, “I will return to my homeland, and Yugyeom will return you to your camp. It is with deepest gratitude for what you have done for me, Jinyoung, that I pray that I will never see you on a battlefield in the coming year.”

Jinyoung nodded. He knew what Mark meant—he did not want them to meet again, because it would be as enemies.

“All the same, I owe you a debt," Mark continued. "And one day, in some form, I will repay it.”

“For saving your life?” Jinyoung clarified.

Mark nodded.

“Well, you haven’t killed me yet. That could be your repayment.”

“I never intended to kill you.”

“Are you sure? You growled at me as if you would, when you first saw me.”

“I was also feverish with the poison.” He looked at Jinyoung solemnly. “Whatever you think of us beasts, I assure you, we are true to our word. Even if we were to meet on a battlefield, I would not harm you. I promise.”

“Very well,” Jinyoung said. It was a kindness, but his heart felt strangely heavy from it. “But don’t mind if I don’t look for you on the battlefield, either.”

“Then may our paths cross again in a time of peace, or not at all.” Mark bent down, massaging his upper leg. “But before I can even think of leaving, I must improve my stride. The way I am now, even Yugyeom could arrive home twice as fast as I could. Would you mind monitoring me a little longer?”

Jinyoung nodded, leaning against the wall. “I’ll stay,” he said, and settled in to watch.​