Jongin yaws widely. It’s too early to be up and out, at the very least to him. The shop’s pretty much empty except for himself and the droopy-eyed cashier – who most likely wouldn’t notice if he were to just stroll out of there with his arms full – and outside the sun is breaking through the clouds, too painfully bright where it glitters off the ground and piles of snow.

If it were up to him he’d go nocturnal. Pity it’s not really.

The door jingles as Yixing drifts inside, greeting the drowsy cashier before making her way to him. “How’re you doing Kai?”  She eyes the near empty basket pointedly, as if asking what he’s been doing the past twenty minutes.

Jongin just makes a face as he weighs two bags of chips in his hands, undecided and honestly quite unwilling to make up his mind in the first place. “Tell me again why we can’t just get a bunch at once and keep a stash or something – it’s got to be more expensive to buy one at a time,” he complains, finally dropping one bag in the basket and putting the other back on the shelf with a sigh. “I mean, we get everything else in big quantities, but not the snacks?”

“It’s a health thing, you know that.”

“Whatever…”

Jongin hisses as Yixing tuts and her fingers dig into his side, just enough to hurt despite the decent padding of his jacket. It’s not for nothing he dislikes shopping with her. At least the other two can be swayed, Minseok too practical to not be persuaded by the economic advantages of stockpiling – whether it’s something they need or something they really don’t – and Jongdae much too impatient to withstand a bit of nagging.

Unfortunately they all seem to have figured this out as well, because the past six months neither of the older guys have taken him along, and he’s stuck with Yixing, picking up the everyday stuff and unable to get his hands on what he really wants. As in chips, chocolate and gummy bears.

Jongin pauses for a moment, holding the basket out wordlessly for Yixing to add a few cartons of milk, and seriously ponders over the plausibility of being allowed to get the stuff as long as he dishes out the money himself.

“By the way, I heard from Casey that they could use an extra hand at the restaurant.” The smile he’s given makes him narrow his eyes in suspicion at Yixing as she slips past to eye the limited selection of fruit. “It’s just washing dishes and cleaning up, but I figured you might want something else to do during the day besides helping me with the chores and watching old re-runs of Seinfeld.”

“Hey, I go out too! It’s not like I laze around all day.”

“Unless you actually do something when you’re out it sort of counts as lazing around either way.”

Though Jongin’s not too happy to admit it, she does have a point. Sort of. It’s not like he hasn’t thought about it before, the whole contribution deal, but no one’s really pushed for him to do anything. Still, it sounds worse being told by someone else that he’s got too much time on his hands than to just think so himself.

He stands silently to the side as Yixing gathers up the last of the things they need, observes as she strikes up conversation with the cashier and helps load everything into bags. It’s the least he can do to carry the groceries back home.

“You don’t have to look so glum,” Yixing says softly as they step outside, both of them flinching slightly at the sharp light. “I know it takes time to adapt, and I’m not trying to force you into anything by suggesting you find something to do with your time.” Jongin glances over, shrugs and buries his face in his muffler before fixing his gaze on the ground, slippery with half-melted ice and snow. “What I’m trying to say… is that you do have a choice. You don’t have to do what Minseok and Jongdae are doing, pretending to be normal.”

“But…?” Jongin asks, having noticed despite Yixing’s smile that she’s not telling him everything.

“But, Jongin, you don’t look happy at home either.”

“…oh.”

They descend into a silence that’s not quite comfortable, yet not quite awkward either. Jongin can feel a smile tugging at his lips as he ponders over the things he was just told, a sense of relief growing with each step closer to home.

But then Yixing comes to a sudden halt, brow furrowed as she holds him back by his sleeve. He’s about to ask what’s wrong, until a familiar yet entirely new sound reaches him. It’s faint at first, both of their hearing impaired by their human states, but it soon becomes clear as they listen closely, pretending to be discussing something with exaggerated gestures when one of their neighbours passes by.

Jongin can feel his blood race though, restless and eager as he casts glances to the treeline a ways off. He shifts his weight from one leg to another, grins hopefully at Yixing even as she frowns, unusually hesitant to let him go out alone. It shouldn’t be such a big deal, because he’s met a lot of wandering strays throughout the years – albeit not as many since he settled with the trio – and they all know he’s fairly used to it.

Another few seconds pass as Yixing scrutinizes him, but then she finally sighs out a “just go”, relieving him of the bags as he darts off without a word.

With an exhilarated grin and his inner self clawing at his gut in anticipation, Jongin completely misses the vague scent lingering at the edge of the woods, and has barely gotten out of sight of the nearest building and half-way out of his jacket when he’s unceremoniously knocked to the ground by a dark mass of fur.

*

Suho stops lapping at the river for a moment, ears pricked and twitching as she tries to separate the background noise from the voices she knows she just picked up on. The river is quite loud though, and she has to step back to the trees for its steady roar to fade. Filtering out the sounds of the forest as best she can, the specific noises she’s searching for quickly become easier to locate, muffled yips and growls drifting over from afar.

If she weren’t in her pelt at the moment she’d be cursing and complaining, because really, she should’ve seen this coming.

They’ve only been in the area for a couple of days, yet already things have taken a turn that Suho struggles to appreciate. The plan had always been to keep moving, but it seems like every new place they pass through proves to be another distraction. And even worse so when there are other shifters around.

She pads back to the waterside with a short bark, alerting her larger companion of the imminent departure. Chanyeol raises her head, eyes wide with curiosity and light brown fur dripping with water, then clips her ears attentively, probably picking up on things despite the river – her hearing has always been exceptional. Suho laps a few more mouthfuls before they’re off, following the sounds of what can only be some sort of confrontation. They don’t bother sneaking – it won’t make any difference at this point – but are relatively careful with where they step either way. The ground seems to them in at some places and reject them completely at others, leading to a frustrating combination of stumbling and slipping, more so on Chanyeol’s part than her own. Secretly though, Suho still wishes for a cold snap to freeze it all again.

As they close in on the sounds, it becomes clear at the very least that it’s not anything serious, only a very weak scent of blood wafting over. A bit of tension neither of them were aware had been building disperses as they trek through the underbrush to sneak up on the brawlers, a recognizable bundle of now muddy burgundy fur entering their line of sight a few yards off. Wrestling with him is another male, a bit larger with what Suho only assumes is a naturally brown pelt. Either that or he’s rolled around in a mud-puddle, but she doubts anyone would find that enjoyable – personally she avoids dirt to her greatest capacity, her creamy fur much too light to appreciate it.

Chanyeol looks over with a muted whine, questioning, and Suho nods tiredly before letting out a sharp bark, the two of them padding over as the pair untangle themselves from each other with a series of whines and growls. While Baekhyun makes his way over, tongue lolling out as he grins and shakes the worst of the mud from his fur only to start bugging Chanyeol instead, the other one at least has the decency to look apologetic, ears pressed down and head lowered as he sits back on his haunches.

“…-in?” The three of them still at the faint voice, the stranger on the contrary perking up. “Jongin?” As the brown wolf raises his head to let out a short howl, Suho considers turning tail and moving on, because a rogue is one thing, but if a pack’s settled in the area…

She makes a gruff sound at Baekhyun, who releases Chanyeol’s ear with a sniff, and watches as he disappears among the trees in search of their things, which he has no doubt hidden somewhere he won’t easily find them again.

It wouldn’t be the first time.

“Jongin? What’s going—“ The woman pauses mid-sentence, stumbling over a root and staggering a bit before finding her balance again. She looks slightly dishevelled from hiking through the woods, and a bit hesitant as she looks them over. Suho doesn’t blame her in the least – she’d be just as careful if she perchance found a couple of trespassers in her territory. Not that she has one at the moment. “I thought something like this might have happened,” the woman says after a moment of silence, tossing a worn bag over behind some trees, “so I brought a change of clothes, just in case. Go get dressed, then come back and explain the situation. Okay?”

Suho regards the woman carefully as she brushes the wet snow off the gnarly root she stumbled over, making herself somewhat comfortable as she waits, wiggling about for a few seconds. She doesn’t seem likely to pull anything, nor does she seem particularly unfriendly. Chanyeol is nervous though, Suho senses it easily.

Fortunately Baekhyun returns before it gets too much, and oddly enough, Suho sort of anticipates the prospect of what will hopefully be a civil chat.

*

“So… you’re telling me he jumped you?” Yixing asks slowly as she dabs a few shallow scratches on Jongin’s cheek with the sleeve of her sweater, raising a brow as he nods, fidgeting in place but meeting her eyes nonetheless. He doesn’t seem to be lying, especially considering the scraps of clothing they picked off the forest floor a few minutes prior, and really, she knows he’s not one to start a conflict.

Not that there seem to be any hard feelings about whatever went down.

A couple of yards away the three strangers are huddled together and, by the looks of it, the guy is being chastised by the petite red-head, the willowy girl looking on in what Yixing clearly recognizes as amusement. No, definitely no hard feelings there.

“Please tell me I won’t get grounded for this,” Jongin pleads quietly, and Yixing gives him a small smile.

“You’re not a child, runt,” she teases, brushing some mud off the side of his face as he makes a rather ugly grimace. “Besides, unless you’ve been lying to me it’s not on you in the first place, right?”

“Right. Because I haven’t been. Lying, I mean.”

Yixing hums, patting his back in another attempt to reassure him that he’s not going to receive any sort of punishment, and then turns to the other group again. They seem to have quieted down a bit too, waiting for them to finish by the looks of it. The little one is unsurprisingly the first to speak up.

“I think we owe you an apology,” she says stiffly, her smile troubled but honest. “This one is a bit of a wild child still, and we don’t run into other shifters too often.” The young man, who looks little more than Jongin’s age, makes a mighty offended expression, but quickly returns to grinning playfully when the tall girl’s elbow digs into his ribs. The way they start to squabble quietly seems to annoy the red-haired girl greatly, but to Yixing it’s quite the welcome sight.

“It’s no problem,” she responds lightly, more than ready to move on, “I’m sure Jongin enjoyed himself – we don’t really take the time to roll around in the mud with him anymore.” The red-head’s brow quirks a bit, but she doesn’t seem intent on lingering on the subject either. “I’m Yixing by the way...”

At the unspoken question, the other group balks. None of them say a word for several moments, only exchanging a few uncertain glances, probably wary of sharing their identities. Yixing knows what it’s like – most shifters have had times when they’ve been forced into hiding to some extent – and waits patiently even as Jongin shuffles his feet a bit by her side. Finally, the willowy girl wets her lips, clearly uncomfortable as she asks a very simple question.

“…how many of you are there?”

“Four,” Jongin blurts out before Yixing has even opened , and he rubs the back of his neck sheepishly as he clarifies. “It’s just the four of us.”

This seems to make things considerably easier, if judging by the clear light that goes up in both the tall girl’s and the boy’s eyes, both of them looking expectantly at the red-head as she seems to think it over. It’s probably safe to say she’s been calling the shots for some time, but she doesn’t seem to have taken an official leading role. And while Yixing wonders why, she figures that hearing about it will probably have to wait.

At least until they’ve all been properly introduced.

*

There are too many smells lingering around the neighbourhood when Jongdae gets back from his day at the store. Too many unfamiliar ones to be specific, blending with fragments of their own that more or less belong in the area by now. It’s not unpleasant – there aren’t any hints that would make him think of any sort of struggle, save for a barely noticeable twinge of blood – but it is confusing enough to make him quicken his steps, and he stumbles across the rapidly cooling ground, streetlights barely enough to let him see the many flecks of ice that are doing a good job of making his walk harder.

Everything is just like normal when he arrives at home though. There aren’t any strangers lounging around in the parlour or hanging out in the dining room, no unfamiliar faces looking away from the TV to stare at him. It’s just Yixing and Jongin, having a quiet conversation at the kitchen table, steaming mugs of tea between them and smiles on their faces, a couple of unwashed pans cooling on the stove. But the smells still linger stubbornly.

“Who’s been here?” Jongdae asks simply as he slumps down in an empty chair, shrugging off his jacket and stealing a sip from Yixing’s mug. Jongin jumps to life with a wide grin, leaning over the table excitably.

“Strays, sort of. You know, like a pack, just on the move and stuff. So we let them in for a while.”

Jongdae stares. Blinks. Of course it was a stray pack, what else could he ever have expected? What they’d been doing in his home was a different matter though. He fixes the runt with a sharp look. “…and then what? You sent them on their merry way?”

“They didn’t want to stick around, too antsy to intrude or something like that.” Jongin still looks like an overexcited puppy as he peers out through the window, apparently looking for something in the shadows.

“They’re being courteous,” Yixing interjects. “Seeing as neither you nor Minseok agreed to keeping them around, they said they’ll just spend the night under the stars, like they’re used to. They left soon after a shower and a hot meal.” She must notice something about his expression that Jongdae himself isn’t aware of, because she gives a sudden laugh, continuing to chuckle under her breath as she tries to drink her tea properly. “They’ll be back tomorrow, sometime in the afternoon. You don’t have to look so worried. Right Jongin?”

“Yup, even promised not to go away without saying goodbye.”

Jongdae is only slightly unsettled by the runt’s high spirits, used to a slightly more indifferent attitude, but doesn’t comment on the wide grin. “I’m just not going to ask why he’s like that,” he whispers to Yixing, despite being fully aware that Jongin is probably able to hear him anyway. “I’ll just go ahead and wash up before Minseok gets back – he’ll want the detailed story.”

In all fairness, Jongdae does try his hardest from then to ignore thinking about the topic of trespassing strays, at least until their last roommate returns. He really does. It’s a hellish task though, when every single room in the house seems to smell different from usual. He figures he should be glad he’s in his human skin, or it would most likely be a bit too overwhelming – what with no natural fragrances to take the edge of each individual’s lingering scent indoors.

What really gets to him though, is most likely the washed out traces that are still hovering around the bathroom when he walks inside. It’s like passing through a cloud of perfume – faded but hovering throughout. He sniffs the air just the once, and feels a strange shiver running up his spine, hackles rising.

Somewhat befuddled, Jongdae wonders why it is that the feeling’s not at all unwelcome.

Word count: 3054

So, did everyone have a nice Valentine's? I was actually planning on putting this up yesterday but stuff happened so, y'know.

I'm still trying to figure out how to balance things, and I really don't think I'll be able to adress everyone's perspective in each chapter (it would be both messy and sort of tiring for both me and whoever ends up reading the story, so yeah). Anyway, feel free to let me know what you think so far - a bit of feedback always makes it more worthwhile. :)

Bye for now.

/argenou