Sunlight can be strange and unfamiliar, heating cold skin, paralyzing weak eyes.

Kai and Chanyeol walk into the garden first, leaving Jongdae crouching in the dark entrance.

It’s not really a garden. It’s a wild patch of grass, surrounded by steep, craggy mountain walls, as black as coal.

Jongdae takes a step, onto grass, wincing at the prickly sensation. Takes another, then runs across the grass to Kai, who obligingly bends on one knee so Jongdae can try to climb on him.

“Too big to carry,” Kai says, moving his face out of the way, rubbing behind Jongdae’s ears. He does it until Jongdae flops onto his back, exposing his stomach for Kai.

Kai humours him, hand moving over his vulnerable stomach, occasionally tugging at sparse clumps of fur.

Chanyeol flops to the grass, beside them.

“So what do I need to do this month?”

“Military exercises,” Kai says. “Domestic, and international. Have the Pack do an exercise near here, through some of the villages. Practice guerrilla warfare. Show them that we can do enough damage to their residences, that we’re capable enough of circumventing their own House troops. Also send parts of the Pack to –“

“Back to the border,” Chanyeol says. “And do exercises with Sehun’s troops. I’ve already arranged that.”

Kai laughs.

“You’ve never said where you met him,” Chanyeol says. “No one actually knows.”

“Sehun likes to get around,” Kai says, easily.

Chanyeol unties the bag of tools beside him; he’s been around Kai long enough, to know when Kai doesn’t want anyone to keep poking at the subject.

He takes out a short stick, an end firmly swaddled by cloth. Passes it to Kai, who pokes at Jongdae’s snout with it. Jongdae sneezes, whiskers twitching. Finally he bites at the cloth, attempting to tear it. The material is hard and slick, though, surprisingly resilient.

Kai refuses to leave him alone, keeps jabbing at Jongdae with the stick. Frustrated, Jongdae pounces on it.

Kai yanks the stick away and tosses it to Chanyeol, who has stood up. He points and whistles – differently, this time, sharper, more piercing.

Chanyeol taps the stick meaningfully in a hand, advancing on Jongdae. Jongdae takes one, two steps back, tail twitching.

He’s off, feet scrabbling for purchase in the grass, bypassing the stick, claws digging into Chanyeol’s pants.

Chanyeol does something with the stick, forcefully dislodging Jongdae’s paws.

Blood, welling up, from the claw marks, through torn cloth.

 Kai’s whistling again, lower-pitched. It’s what he uses to call Jongdae to his side.

Jongdae shakes himself off, annoyed. The world here is bright and green, more interesting than the small stone chamber he’s been cooped up in for a long while.

But Kai’s whistling, and Kai usually feeds Jongdae.

Jongdae’s not hungry, now, though.

He’s off, among the low trees.

--

It’s Chanyeol waiting, later, when Jongdae wanders back through the thicket, to the entrance of the valley.

He has food, a few pieces of meat in a bowl. Jongdae winds his way there and sits, waiting.

It’s usually Kai who feeds Jongdae. He remembers that much.

“He’s not coming back for a while,” Chanyeol says. “If you can still understand me.”

He starts to say something, then stops. Goes back inside, closing the door behind him.

Confused, Jongdae starts to wash himself, off the dirt and burrs. Kai will get the places he can’t reach.

--

Kai doesn’t come back. It’s still Chanyeol, who comes by once a day, leaving food. Jongdae’s hunger pushes him to eat, but he still noses at Chanyeol anyway, attempting to climb past him, back into the stone place.

Two days, then three days.

The way Jongdae’s thinking is starting to change. Is becoming looser, more unformed, more so than it is.

There’s open space, food, water, trees. Jongdae’s winding his way around them but it seems like he’s forgetting. Words, names, places.

--

He goes, the next time he hears a familiar whistle. Climbs into Kai’s lap anxiously, letting him bury his face in Jongdae’s fur, holding him close.

All Jongdae remembers, now, is that he needs this person.

--

The training goes faster, after that. Chanyeol wields the stick seriously, Jongdae dodging and avoiding and finally retailiaitng in frustration.

Kai brings in live objects. Rabbits, first – those are easy – then bigger animals. Fellow cats. A series of wild boars, that almost gore Jongdae.

A larger deer, once. Jongdae’s dimly aware that he’s moving faster, hitting harder than he thought he usually could.

But Kai’s there, and he feeds Jongdae after they’re done, and grooms him. Even though he never brings him back into the stone place again.

--

One day Jongdae wakes up, and he’s shaped differently. His limbs are longer, hairless – the grass scratches really badly now – and he can’t bite well. His teeth are too blunt. Not to mention his claws, which have disappeared.

He can’t fit well into Kai’s lap, now. He barely can, his legs dangling outside. Kai still pets him and feeds him, nonetheless.

The back of Jongdae’s neck still tingles – makes him go weak, whenever Kai touches that spot.

Chanyeol’s still holding the stick. Jongdae trips and falls, when he tries to run. He has to get used to this new body all over again, carefully.

He’s bigger now, so he can jump further. But he can’t bite or hit as hard.

--

They take him into the stone place again, Kai holding his paw (five-, better for grip). He goes through gates and gates, into a place that smells of blood and meat and stone.

Jongdae’s full, but it’s still meat. Only Kai can feed him, though, so Jongdae regretfully reminds himself not to eat.

It’s so big – big, bigger than the valley, big enough that the place is cavernous and the shadows are huge and long, like the night sky. There are people, all around, chattering.

The ground underfoot is dirty and cracked. Jongdae wrinkles his nose, shifting from foot to foot.

There’s someone else standing on the other side of the arena. Crouching, fierce. He looks at Jongdae like no one else ever had, like a wild boar, maybe.

He’s bigger than Jongdae. A lot bigger, muscles bulging and shiny.

A familiar whistle pierces the air. Kai points at the other person, and nods, through the wooden grids of the door leading back inside.

It’s the hardest fight that Jongdae has been in. The other person creeps across the ground, fast and low. Jongdae gets clipped, in the side, and then trampled upon, before he can run away, scaling the sides of the arena.

He sits on the cold round bar, people screaming and scattering away from him. The person stands below and bellows, angrily.

He’s so angry. Jongdae stands, balancing. He walks and keeps walking, calmly, letting the person trail him below.

Jongdae’s watching for an opportunity. But there are people running down the steps towards him, holding shiny steel spears.

Jongdae jumps down from the bar, crouching at the steps. This way, the angry one can’t see him.

The steel-holding people are still approaching. Jongdae runs, on hands and feet (awkwardly), deftly, back in the direction he came from. Flips back over the rail effortlessly, in a tight ball.

The bull-person (Jongdae just knows) is still turning, when Jongdae hits the stone floor of the arena, rolling to disperse the impact.

He comes charging, at Jongdae.

It’s all about speed, after that. Jongdae dances across the broken floor, choosing the worst places to step.

It’s fun. The bull-person’s catching up to Jongdae, nearer and nearer, slipping in places.

It’s not as fun, when his massive blows catch Jongdae, sending him flying like a doll across the ground. Jongdae can feel the skin peel away, the friction burning.

The bull catches Jongdae, again, after they’ve been dancing around for a long while. Slams him so hard he skids across the floor on his side, shoulder slamming into the wall so hard Jongdae sees stars.

Jongdae’s panting, struggling to stand, as the bull-person approaches.

There are horns, beginning to twist out of the sides of his human head.

Jongdae clutches the wall, climbs, as the bull charges. He’s still human, just not his head – the ugly snarling features of a bull, yelling, horns bony and sharp.

The impact looses Jongdae’s grip; he drops, twisting, onto the bull’s human back. Claws tear out of Jongdae’s fingers, fully – he ignores the pain, sinking them into the bull. Opens his mouth, lynx-fangs ripping out of the gums.

Even his legs are changing, back claws twisting and breaking and reshaping his toes.

He claws his way up the back of the bull, who’s trying to stand upright, to shake Jongdae off him. Jongdae lunges, bites the back of the bull’s neck, desperately.

It’s all about luck, now. Jongdae keeps biting, as hard as he can, as deep as he can, blood coming out of the corners of his mouth and flooding his throat.

The bull turns, slams his back (and Jongdae) into the wall, hard enough that pain flattens Jongdae’s spine, loosening his grip.

Jongdae bites back down again, grimly. He can’t hang on for much longer.

It’s not as hard to bite through the mangled flesh, this time. His limbs are locking, tightening, to become the hardier lynx.

He gets hit again, and this time the impact is so strong Jongdae’s falling off the bull, before he knows it.

Fully cat again, he scrambles across the arena floor, away from the treacherous hooves of the bull. They stomp the floor so hard stone chips are sent flying.

The lynx, panicking, can only run. Jongdae keeps running and running, the bull-man chasing him, desperate.

He rolls under the bull’s cloved feet, a feet crushing his forearm. Jongdae whines and does his best to run away, adrenaline chasing, pain sinking.

He can’t climb, now. The bull keeps coming after him, blood watering its front, spurting out from its throat.

Jongdae keeps running, and it keeps chasing.

It’s getting closer, and slower. Finally it trips and falls. Can’t get up again, no matter how hard it tries, blood now fountaining from the torn throat.

Pain rips through Jongdae, as he’s forced out of his cat form, back into the hairless-one.

His arm dangles, useless, a mangled heap of bone and meat.

There’s the familiar whistle, again. Persistent.

Jongdae doesn’t want to lose Kai. He makes his way slowly, around the back of the bull. Darts forward and scrabbles onto him, tearing and tearing at the throat with his left hand, blood soaking, until the body below stops moving.

--

They don’t let Jongdae go back to cat form, and neither is Kai there.

Jongdae drinks bitter medicine, without Kai. (hold him / stay still / ing cat / what a monster, did you watch the match outside)

He’s cold and hot, without Kai. (kai? Kai’s brutal, he trained him up, what do you think he’ll do with this rabid creature now that he’s won / no one would be able to tame him, I say they put him down, or toss him back into the arena and keep sending shifters in until he dies from exhaustion)

He wakes up, without Kai.

--

Kai’s the first word that comes out of his mouth. It’s the only thing, he says, pleadingly and a bit shy, to the man with a permanent frown on his face.

He gets angry, everytime Jongdae asks for Kai.

Jongdae’s happy to be out of the stone place – the man led him out of that place, people shying away from Jongdae, whispers following him – onto a rectangular wooden box, perched on wheels. Horses waited in the harnesses.

They travel to a new place, a house with a stone courtyard and many rooms. It smells like herbs.

The man’s always with Jongdae. He doesn’t whistle, like Kai, but he holds Jongdae’s chain and orders him to feed himself.

He gives Jongdae his own section of the house; a small courtyard, with a tiny pond, and a few trees. There are three rooms, but Jongdae only uses one. It’s built in the traditional Beijing way, with a bed built into the wall, gauze curtains falling over it to keep out insects, a round wooden table before that, and a study table with books and pens with horsehair nibs and tiny stone trays for ink.

They lock the doors leading to the other parts of the house, the rest of the time. Jongdae sits with his feet in the pond and plays at catching the koi inside.

--

Jongdae starts to remember, and that’s the worst part of all this. That he remembers, with growing sanity, what happened.

“Yixing,” he says, one day. Yixing’s removing the empty food bowls away; he stops, looks at Jongdae, with pity in his eyes.

Jongdae didn’t really understand why, but over the next few days, he does so.

He stops eating.

Yixing cooks soup, soup that’s fresh and clean, without any meat inside of it. Water. Rice rolls, with carrot and radish and tofu inside.

Jongdae doesn’t even have the strength to die, so he eats, slowly. Eats little.

He never thought he could be scared by his cat, but he is, now.

What is he supposed to do, now? His body reminds him, at every step, at every instinctual move, how thoroughly it wasn't his, for that period of time.

He's not even useful, anymore.

a/n: okay! pit backstory established...relationship building will continue next chapter!