At first, all he could distinguish was the horrible cold.

       There are two kinds of cold: there is the kind that makes the the person merely uncomfortable by biting and nipping at the skin in a most unpleasant fashion, and there is the bone numbing cold that is felt within a person and is so shaking that one cannot even think straight. Lying in the snow and barely remembering who he was, all the boy could think of was how what he felt was definitely the second kind of cold.

       The second thing he realized was that he could not remember his own name.

       Groaning, the dark-haired boy sat up and looked around at his surroundings, but all he could see was the snow and the trees. He noticed that he was . The icy coating on the forest floor burned at his skin like fire, and upon examination of his body, he found that his extremities had begun to turn blue. The irony of his examination brought no humor to his face, for he had no sensation in his cheeks.

       The boy on the ground shuddered against the sensation and shakily pushed himself into a standing position. His legs protested against his weight, and he found himself back on the ground, once more.

       He was always weak after a transformation. After all, in order to shift, every bone in his body broke itself. He was stranded where he was until one of the others found him. He hoped it would be sooner rather than later, the boy thought to himself with a shudder.

       "Jongin," came a voice through the thicket of trees. The boy stirred at the sound, recognizing it as his name. Yes. Jongin- that was what he was called.

       "Over here," Jongin weakly called back to the voice. "I can't get up."

       A boy with ruffled hair and a mouth that curled up at the corners emerged from the brush and stood before Jongin, looking over his body with a sympathetic expression.

        "Rough transformation," the boy stated, reaching a hand out to help Jongin into a standing position. "I'd tell you it gets better," the boy let out a humorless laugh, "but it doesn't."

        Jongin shakily leaned on his friend's shoulder and together the two began to make their way through the knee-deep snow. Every step made his bones groan. Jongin's lips were blue and trembling, and his feet were bleeding. Bloody tracks were left behind them in the snow.

       "Let's get you out of the cold," the shorter boy told Jongin,  taking off his furs and draping them over the boy's shoulders. "It's lucky I found you when I did. You could have frozen to death."

       "Baekhyun," Jongin managed to get through his blue lips. His voice was dry and cracked with cold. "I hate this."

       Baekhyun patted Jongin's shoulder's supportively, his expression becoming sad. "I know, but that's what we're together for: the pack supports each other."

       Neither of them said anything for a while as they traipsed through the snow, and afte