Chapter Text
The new kid is less wolf and more dog; domesticated, eager to please, naive. Baekhyun watches him eat with a mix of fascination and disgust.
If not for the fact that he reeks of new leather and nerves, the wetness behind his ochre ears is obvious in the way he scoffs down his food, the first meal he’ll have seen in days. All wolves are starved before the night of the full moon, to rally their bloodlust before the Hunt. A small portion of rice is given to return strength, but it only leaves them hungrier for more.
“You’re going to make yourself sick,” Baekhyun says, because he can only watch this in silence for so long before he snaps. His tail twitches.
“My name is Sehun. Se-hun.” Baekhyun rolls his eyes, placing his untouched bowl on the floor. “And I’m not gonna get sick.” Sehun wipes his runny nose on the back of his hand. “I’ll be fine.”
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Baekhyun mumbles, while Sehun looks up at him with big puppy eyes at his bowl. When he reaches for it, Baekhyun growls, Sehun’s ears immediately flattering as he hunches into his shoulders out of submission. It’s piteous, so Baekhyun sighs and hands it over, watching Sehun scoff it down with faint disgust, chains rattling with every mouthful. Baekhyun likes the hunger, it keeps him focused, motivated, strong, and nothing tastes better than the reward of the Hunt. It’s part of what makes him a half-blood wolf.
Baekhyun hears the gate open, and his tail sweeps over the floor as he stands, chains dragging across stone as Sehun follows suit. The den floods with the scent of anticipation and hunger as the sweet air from outside flows through the dungeons. It sings to Baekhyun, dulcet and seductive, a duet between the full moon and the forest. He licks his lips in anticipation, wiggling in place.
Baekhyun feels his demon half claw at his chest, begging to be set free beneath the full moon, but he bides his time. He must wait for the Keepers, the King’s mages to pass him as they make their way through the den, anointing the wolves by painting their faces with blood, blessing them to purify the earth. Keeper Siwon nods at Baekhyun as he draws the lines on his face, a sign of respect he doesn’t deserve. His fingers are careful around Baekhyun’s scarred, blinded grey eye. Baekhyun doesn’t flinch.
With the ritual done, a click signals the release of their chains and the wolves go bounding out, howling and barking at the sensation of freedom. Baekhyun lingers behind, trying to calm his racing heartbeat, hunger stirring in his gut, a low simmer. His mouth waters.
“What’re you doing?” Sehun asks. “Why aren’t you leaving?”
Baekhyun arches an eyebrow at him, winding the now-unhooked chains around his forearm. “Why aren’t you leaving?”
“Because I’m waiting for you. Obviously.”
Baekhyun lets that sit for a few seconds. “We’re not hunting together.” He gestures between them. “I’m a lone wolf.”
“Well I can’t hunt by myself.” Sehun pouts. More puppy eyes; oh no. It appears he may have developed an attachment complex. “It’s my first time. Besides, I didn’t talk to anyone but you when I was moved here, so…” They’d moved Sehun into the den a few days ago, transferred from training --puppy school-- and he’d been chained up on the same rung as Baekhyun on the castle dungeon floor. Baekhyun wouldn’t call him a friend, but there’s a forced camaraderie that comes through sitting next to each other with nothing else to do for days. Sehun can be irksome, but his heart is in the right place. “I thought that was a given?”
Baekhyun opens his mouth to argue, but Sehun is pouting at him and he… doesn’t know how to.
“Fine,” he snaps. “But just this once.”
“Yes!!!” Sehun’s tail starts wagging, watching Baekhyun wind his chains curiously. “So why aren’t we leaving?”
“Because only idiots rush this.” Baekhyun crouches to pick up the length of Sehun’s heavy chain attached to his wrist bracket, winding the links around his forearm. They’re dogs whose leashes have been let go of, but the leashes are still there all the same. He repeats the process on Sehun’s ankles. “It’s impossible to hunt with these loose, they make too much noise.” Sehun’s mouth opens in realisation, sheepish. “Wildlings know the sound.” He stands after doing his own ankles, then begins disrobing. Sehun blushes and looks away --the politeness is cute, if not saddening. Sehun must’ve been quite a naive pup, before he was enlisted to be a hunter.
Baekhyun isn’t wearing anything more than rags though, a tattered shirt and torn pants, dirty from days of use and worn only to cover his unholy body while in human form. Most wolves shift as soon as possible without even considering taking off their clothes, but Baekhyun learnt that bad lesson the hard way.
“If you’re going to follow me, stay behind me at all times,” he tells Sehun. “Don’t do anything stupid, obey my lead. And remember--” Sehun watches Baekhyun with wide, nervous eyes-- “the Black Forest will do anything to keep you. Don’t be tempted.”
“Okay. Follow you, don’t be a dumbass. Got it. Anything else?” Sehun has also taken off his somewhat cleaner, more put-together clothes, muscles twitching as he longs to shift.
“Yeah.” Baekhyun walks forward outside of the den towards the edge of the treeline, feeling the full moon on his skin. A hunger like no other settles deep in his gut, and he grins with all his teeth. “Keep up.”
He can hear Sehun’s spluttering confusion behind him, but he pays it no mind, inhaling the air outside and relishing in the hunger and freedom. Shifting comes naturally to Baekhyun, like breathing, giving into the magic in his blood and feeling his full demon form take shape. It doesn’t hurt because it feels so natural, even though wolves are taught their whole lives that it isn’t. They’re abominations of society, after all, demon half-bloods and walking sin, serving humankind to repent for the curse of their ancestors.
As soon as he’s in wolf form Baekhyun stretches, enjoying his enhanced senses and strength. The forest calls to him louder, like this, and Baekhyun howls to sing back.
Sehun’s wolf easily catches up, larger than Baekhyun in this form too, and an ochre brown to Baekhyun’s silvery grey. He nudges Baekhyun’s side with his snout, paws shifting from side to side as he whines, restless. Baekhyun just huffs and jerks his head in gesture for Sehun to follow. He does.
The forest welcomes Baekhyun back with a strong breeze that whispers his return; the minute he crosses the treeline and sinks his paws into the soft earth he feels different, stronger, more alert. But humans taught them to fear the Black Forest, that its dark magic heart would seek to tempt them to stay forever, sucked into its depths and strangled. Baekhyun doesn’t know what it says about himself that he finds the gateway between Hel and Greykeep comforting.
He slows his run down to a trot, panting, which gives him time to recover and also something Sehun seems to be happy about, walking out of line as he goes to poke his nose around trees, overwhelmed by all the new sensations. Baekhyun growls at him, scolding, and Sehun’s ears immediately flatten, guiltily stepping back in line.
The forest reeks of magic and life, the trees whisper of wolves amongst them and the flowers curl up to hide because of it. The bluegrass glows beneath the moonlight, a soft fluorescence, and small lights flit up from the ground, exhaled with each breath of the forest as the mushrooms sigh. The earth beneath Baekhyun’s feet shifts and turns in its sleep, uncaring of his presence. The forest accepts Baekhyun, always has.
He closes his eyes briefly. Take me to my prey , he wishes, and feels the wind change, trees creaking as they sway and move, opening a path in front of Baekhyun. Sehun’s ears perk up quizzically, confused, but Baekhyun trusts in the forest to take him to his prize.
The forest wants blood as much as Baekhyun does, after all.
They continue along the gap between trees, and Baekhyun smells a whole array of things, rabbits sleeping under the earth, bird nests between branches, the scent of other wolves who have tracked through here earlier, hunting wildlings. The forest calls for blood to water its soil, for the rich taste of life, Baekhyun tells it to wait.
They cover miles of the forest in a few short hours, but Baekhyun catches no wind of any wildlings. It’s partly a good sign, meaning they must’ve retreated further into the trees after the threat of wolves from the last Hunt. The King had been worried the wildlings would have made their way to Greykeep if they weren’t careful enough, which is why he sets out his wolves to make sure their city stays safe.
What better to kill a demon, than a demon?
The magic of the forest only grows stronger the deeper they venture, and Baekhyun can feel it in the air around him, settling on his skin. Sehun barks sharply, bringing Baekhyun’s attention towards a claw gash on the tree that reeks of demon. Wildlings.
The forest buzzes with excitement and hunger, but it’s not a fresh scent, meaning it lacks promise. Sehun whines when Baekhyun ignores the wildling’s tracks, so he rolls his eyes and indulges him, watching Sehun’s tail wag as he begins to track it, sniffing along the ground. He must catch a strong wind of it, because he bounds forward, Baekhyun struggling to catch up with the larger wolf.
They’re hunting though, so he can’t bark without risking their prey hearing it. Baekhyun’s mouth still waters at the thought of hunting wildling, sinking his teeth into their soft flesh and tasting their blood. The forest hears his thoughts and rustles with excitement because of it, craving life. Baekhyun will deliver, he always does, that’s why the forest loves him, even though it hates when he leaves.
They’ve strayed from the path the forest made for Baekhyun, and his instinct feels off because of it, untrusting. The wild undergrowth is a tangle of leaf litter and roots and vines, twisting and turning as they reach out. Sehun and Baekhyun are too fast for them to take purchase, but it still unnerves Baekhyun. The forest doesn’t want him to go this way.
The wind shifts again, and Sehun and Baekhyun pause in place as something hits their nose, something enticing and sweet. It smells like spring… fresh dew on flowers, a night of rain. Baekhyun’s ears perk up.
They bound to the source instantly, only for the unsettling feeling in Baekhyun’s gut to grow larger. It feels… wrong, somehow, this scent, too sweet and too strong, and Baekhyun snaps out of it in realisation of what the source of it actually is. He barks an order at Sehun to stay back, but the wolf ignores him, bounding ahead. Baekhyun growls and sprints after him, continuing to bark. It grows harder to see as they find an area of thick mist, and it’s impossible to make out Sehun’s scent over the overwhelmingly sweet smell of rainy flowers, fogging his head. Baekhyun can barely see his own legs like this, especially with the reduced vision of his demon form.
After stumbling blindly, calling for Sehun and getting no response, Baekhyun finally finds the place where the scent is thickest, curling around him. It’s in the mist, making it hard to think, stronger than it would be on anything natural. A light in the distance catches his eye, and he heads towards it, only to jump back when he realises what it is. Wolfsbane, glowing in the darkness, pumping the thick, heady, magical mist in hopes to ensnare its prey.
Sehun is on the other side of the shrub and its large stems with purple flowers, but Baekhyun’s sharp bark snaps him out of his trance, blinking in stupor as he realises what’s in front of him and jumps back. The flower is poisonous even to touch, and it giggles at being caught, bell-shaped flowers rustling in the breeze. Baekhyun growls at Sehun to follow him again, whose ears flatten in obedience. The flower is relatively harmless once the spell is broken, much to its disappointment, but what Baekhyun is more worried about is--
An arrow whizzes between them, landing in the ground.
That.
Immediately Baekhyun sprints out of the mist, Sehun following suit without hesitation, hearing more arrows embed in the dirt behind them. Wildlings often use wolfsbane as a trap to kill wolves before wolves can kill them, and they’ve walked right into one.
Baekhyun can’t see the wildling in all this mist, but he can hear the arrows between them, the rustle of something pouncing through the trees. The scented fog begins to thin as they sprint further away, and Baekhyun makes out a shadow above them, chasing them through the branches.
The forest sings for blood, but it’s hungry, and it doesn’t care whose is spilled. The earth wakes up in all the commotion, shifting around disgruntledly, and Baekhyun and Sehun stumble with it, as they reach a sudden cliff edge, cutting them off. They scramble to stop in time, claws digging into the ground, and the wildling drops down from the trees behind them.
His demon blood manifests in the aspect of an osprey, thin brown and white feathers circling his face with long, winged arms. He wears a wildling’s war mask, carved into the shape of an osprey’s piercing gaze. His bow is drawn, Baekhyun stepping forward to growl in warning, staring down the arrow without fear. The wildling looks at him, indifferent, before he moves his bow and shoots Sehun instead.
Baekhyun doesn’t have time to think before he reacts. He jumps forward, howling in pain as the arrow pierces his side. Sehun cries out, but Baekhyun only yells at him to run, watching him hesitate before taking off as Baekhyun staggers to his feet, arrow in his side, heaving and staring down the wildling. His blood drips to the earth below, and the forest rejoices.
Baekhyun feels dizzy and overheated, struggling to stand. The osprey stares him down.
“Stupid dog,” he mutters, muffled behind his mask. He kicks Baekhyun off the edge of the cliff.
Baekhyun falls into the hands of the river, and the water instantly wraps around him, the heaviness of his chains around each paw making it impossible to swim. He whines, bubbles of air floating above his head, but his limbs are weak and his head is light, skin stinging where it had broken the water’s surface.
The river sings to him to let go of his breath and give in to the water, but a strong current pushes Baekhyun upwards, gasping when he’s thrust into air again. He’s sent through rapids and bashed between rocks and logs, unable to shift through all the pain and unable to do anything but submit to the river’s whim.
It feels like hours that the water tortures Baekhyun before everything just. Stops. One second he’s being beaten around, the next he’s spat out onto the riverbanks, the reeds around him brushing against his wet fur to check that he’s still alive. Baekhyun hears singing, but it’s not a song of the forest.
Woozy, Baekhyun stumbles to his feet, aching in every inch of his body and barely able to walk. He heads towards the sound all the same, entranced. Further down the river branches off and thins into a creek, where Baekhyun can make out someone singing as they rinse themselves off, cupping their palm into the water and running it over their bare arms. Beneath the moonlight they’re nothing more but a silhouette, with short pointed ears and a long thin tail flicking behind them.
It smells like rain and flowers; Baekhyun whimpers.
Immediately the figure tenses, and the pain becomes too much for Baekhyun so he falls to the ground in a slump. His vision is going blurry --all he can register is someone touching his side above the wound and gasping.
“You’re hurt.” There are cool hands on his forehead, brushing the fur out of his eyes. Baekhyun whines, chest heaving as he pants. He feels hot, feverish. “You need to shift or you’ll be stuck like this.”
Baekhyun can’t think straight, words drifting in and out, taking longer to process. He shakes his head, or at least tries to. The stranger strokes behind his ears with one hand and under his chin with the other. Baekhyun leans into the touch.
“You have to, come on.” Some part of Baekhyun registers the stranger is right, if he doesn’t shift back into his human form with the full moon’s magic, he’ll be stuck as a wolf, slowly succumbing to his demon blood and losing sanity until he turns into a corrupted bloodhound. The night is nearly over.
But part of him is also very aware of how much pain he’s in, and shifting back to human form is always worse than shifting into his wolf.
“It’s okay, I’ll help you,” the stranger reassures. “I won’t let you die.”
Cool hands are soothing him through his fur, and Baekhyun knows he needs to do this before he passes out. He feels… safe, and he’s not sure why, but nothing in his head works properly right now, and all he wants is for the pain to stop.
He closes his eyes and nods, inhaling deeply before willing himself to shift. Bones crack, organs shift, skin shrinks and fur recedes, and Baekhyun cries out through it all, the pain doubling when the stranger rips the arrow out of his side.
“Fuck you,” is the first thing Baekhyun spits.
“You’re welcome,” the stranger replies, then holds up the arrow up to the moon, revealing its purple head. “This was poisoned with wolfsbane… Shit, I need to clean your wound.”
“Don’t,” Baekhyun chokes out, even as the stranger wraps his arms around him, and lifts him with ease, moving him closer to the stream. He shivers now, though he’s so hot he’s sweating. “The river wants my breath. The forest wants my blood.”
Cat ears flick. “You can hear their song?”
But Baekhyun can’t reply, unsure of how to make his tongue work anymore as his eyes slip shut. He feels the cool touch of water on his wound, and then the sharp sting of something being rubbed into it, a tear of cloth and the feeling of pressure. He drifts away from it all.
He isn’t sure how much time passes, slipping in and out of barely-there consciousness for hours, maybe days, but when Baekhyun opens his eyes again his vision isn’t blurred, and there’s sunlight streaking through the canopy and onto the leaf littered floor.
“You’re awake,” a voice says. “Finally.”
Baekhyun jumps, startled, only to see a wildling poking at a fire beside him, roasting a few fish on speared sticks above it. There’s a pack lying beside him, with a panther mask leaning against it, a long bow with a quiver of raven-fletched arrows. Baekhyun is on guard immediately, trying to leverage himself to sit up, but his arm gives out beneath him, helpless. The wildling arches an eyebrow at Baekhyun as his long black tail flicks.
Baekhyun gulps. “Wildling,” he accuses, throat dry.
“Wolf,” the wildling replies sarcastically, rolling his eyes. He holds out a deerskin cask. “Drink.”
Baekhyun does, wary, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand as he looks at his body, wincing. There are strips of woven gauze wrapped around his stomach, right where the arrow pierced his wound; the cloth is blackened with blood. His bruises have already turned a light yellow, the cuts and scrapes of the river scabbed over, but his ribs still hurt. He must’ve broken a few when he fell.
“I managed to dull the poison with godswood, but it will still take longer to heal than usual.” Baekhyun watches the wildling tear into the fish with elongated canines, chewing, swallowing, staring back at him. “What?”
“Why are you helping me?” His tail flicks. “What are you going to do to me?”
The wildling sighs again, with another eyeroll, and Baekhyun takes him all in. He’s never seen a wildling in daylight before, not beyond the walls of Greykeep and outside of chains, at least. He wears a dark red leather tunic with no sleeves and a deep v-neck, simple hide leggings with a slit cut for his tail to be freed. His bare, defined arms are covered in black ink markings across his browned skin, and a thin gold circlet sits atop his curled black hair, forged in the shape of woven vines and leaves with a green jewel swaying in the centre. Even for a wildling he radiates power and magic, and Baekhyun feels like asking why he’s being helped was a stupid choice, when he should be bowing down and begging for forgiveness instead.
Which is a strange urge he doesn’t often get. Baekhyun gulps.
The wildling only plucks the second fish off the fire, handing it to Baekhyun, alongside a cloth pouch of berries he tugs off his belt.
“Eat,” he commands, voice stern, and Baekhyun feels persuaded to obey, chewing on a mouthful of berries before tearing into the fish. The soft flesh melts in his mouth, and he makes a pleased noise at the taste, picking out thin bones from his fangs. The wildling’s eyes soften. “What a good dog,” he teases. “A good little puppy.”
Baekhyun growls in warning, but the wildling only chides him with, “Uh-uh, who saved your life again?” He shuts up immediately. “That’s what I thought.”
Disgruntled, Baekhyun continues eating in silence, relishing in the taste of food, not even realising how hungry he’d been. He’d been starved for days before the hunt, after all, and without any successful prey caught, and using energy to shift, he’s even hungrier. His body feels weak, even staying sitting up is too much effort.
He licks his lips, impatient, as he watches the wildling sort through some bags beside the campfire.
“Is there anymore?” he asks quietly.
“They starve you, don’t they. Your owners?” Baekhyun’s ears flatten as he frowns. “You’ll hurt yourself if you eat too much.”
“They’re not my owners,” he snaps.
“Aren’t they?” The wildling steps closer then, crouching in front of Baekhyun. He drags a finger over the silver shackles around his wrists, up his his chest slowly and tracing the outline of the leather collar over his throat. A finger hooks through the band, jerking Baekhyun’s head forward. He growls. “You look pretty owned to me.”
Baekhyun stares into the wildling’s golden, slitted eyes for as long as possible, before tearing his gaze away, submissive. The wildling lets out a dry huff.
“See, you’re not much of a wolf, just a puppy.” The wildling stands, stretching. “And if this puppy is good maybe he’ll be rewarded with treats.” He smiles at Baekhyun, smug, his fangs poking out. Baekhyun just pulls the sleeping skin higher around himself, feeling self-conscious, suppressing a growl. He wants to put this wildling in his place, but something inside him is subdued.
“Baekhyun,” Baekhyun grumbles, the wildling turning to him, tilting his head. “My name is Baekhyun. Not puppy. ”
“But puppy is so much cuter,” he teases, grinding some leaves between two flat stones and spitting in it to make a paste. He pulls out fresh gauze from one of the pouches at his belt, smearing the paste between it. “I need to change your dressings.”
Baekhyun obliges, slipping out of the sleep skin and raising his arms so the wildling can unwind the current gauze wrapped around it, replacing the bloodied, crusty bandage with a new one. The paste stings in contact with Baekhyun’s wound, a tear in his side that’s purpled at the edges, but he only winces, nothing more. Usually half-bloods heal much faster than humans, so the wolfsbane must have taken its toll.
“I’m Jongdae, by the way,” the wildling offers, Baekhyun watching his hands work under his pointed black ears. “If you were wondering.”
He pins the gauze down, then looks up at Baekhyun, golden eyes and all.
Baekhyun jerks back. Jongdae frowns at him.
“Why are you being so…” Baekhyun tries, holding a hand against his head as it throbs. “So…”
“Nice?”
Baekhyun swallows. “You’re a wildling,” he states. “I should kill you.”
“So that means I should kill you too, right, puppy?” Jongdae retorts, irked. “Means I’m meant to hate you as much as you hate me, even though you don’t know a single thing about me?”
Baekhyun withers under the intensity of Jongdae’s glare, feels heat burn his cheeks.
Jongdae scoffs. “I just thought… whatever.” He wraps his arms around his middle, a surprisingly vulnerable gesture. “You’ll be good to return to your owners in a few days, but you need to rest until then, okay? I promise I don’t want to do anything with you except make sure you recover in one piece.”
Baekhyun opens his mouth to say something, a comment that he isn’t owned, a thank you, maybe, or some sort of apology, but it all dies on his tongue. Jongdae is a wildling --a wildling who saved his life, yes, but still a wildling. He nods. Circumstance has certainly forced Baekhyun to be somewhat civil, but he doesn’t need to put in any effort past that.
“I’ll go get more food,” Jongdae tells him, picking up the bow and quiver. Baekhyun just shirks into the sleepskin, exhausted, squeezing his eyes shut with a hand over his throbbing wound.
Jongdae returns at dusk dragging a deer carcass behind him, and Baekhyun startles awake at the sound of rustling leaves, relaxing when he realises it’s not a threat.
“Touchy,” Jongdae mumbles, pulling a knife from the hilt strapped to his thigh before beginning to skin the deer. The leaves on its antlers rustle as he moves it, slowly browning post death. The creatures of the Black Forest always have been bizarre. Baekhyun can’t sleep when he’s so aware of Jongdae’s movements, so instead he just watches the way he efficiently skins the deer with a certain prowess, folding the hide and setting aside to be cleaned later as he moves onto the flesh left behind. Muttering under his breath, Jongdae draws circles in the earth with his knife as he takes out the deer’s organs one by one, setting them at different points in the large circle. The blood sinks into the leaf litter with puffs of steam, and roots crawl out from the ground to wrap around each organ, pulling them into the earth. Baekhyun’s eyes widen.
“What the fuck,” he blurts.
“Hm?” Jongdae’s tail flicks curiously as he turns, ears twitching. “What? I was just making an offering.” The trees shake, a gust of wind sweeping through Jongdae’s curls happily. Jongdae turns to him. “Do humans not do that? How can you take life from the forest without giving back?”
“Humans don’t hunt in the Black Forest.”
“But you do.”
Baekhyun clenches his jaw. “Not the same way you hunt.”
Jongdae hums in consideration, brushing his bangs back as he tilts his chin to the sun and closes his eyes to the forest’s song. It makes Baekhyun’s head hurt, and he winces, holding his hands over his ears. His tail twitches.
“But can’t you tell how happy the forest is?” Jongdae spreads his arms out, the breeze curling around him. It giggles with the sound of wind chimes, and sings like a wolf howling. “You can hear it, can’t you? The forest’s song?”
“...Yes,” Baekhyun answers, slowly lowering his hands as he tries to enjoy the song, rather than flinch at it. “It tried to kill me.”
He’s still a little bitter about it.
Jongdae stares at him, then, scrutinising Baekhyun’s face.
“Well, probably because you disrespected it.” He mutters under his breath, “Not making offerings, pshh .” Jongdae hmph s, hands on his hips. “The forest protects us, gives us food, water, light. It’s not something you can just bend to your will, and you can’t trust it either.” He crouches down then, scooping dirt between his palm, trickling it out slowly like sand in an hourglass. “The forest is death as much as it is life.”
Baekhyun swallows, looking at the dead leaves littered around the campsite. He suppresses a shudder.
Jongdae stands, brushing his hands on his thighs. They’re covered in dried blood, but not his.
“Still,” he continues, tail flicking back and forth, hypnotising. “It’s strange. I’ve never met a wolf who could hear the forest’s song.”
Baekhyun’s ears perk up at that. He shouldn’t humour the wildling, but he owes him his life, and more than that, Baekhyun is curious. “How many wolves have you met?”
“None.” Jongdae smiles with all teeth. “But it’s not something most tieflings can do, wild or not.”
Jongdae says tiefling so easily it makes Baekhyun’s eyes widen, glancing around even though he knows they’re alone purely out of reflex. Tiefling is a word he’d heard only as a child, whispered by his brother in old stories their grandmother used to tell them, about half-bloods who were warriors, magicians, heroes, kings. Tieflings in a world where they did not exist to repent the sins of their ancestors; but they were only children’s tales. Baekhyun knows better now.
Surprisingly, Jongdae laughs, a bright, bubbling cackle that pulls Baekhyun from his shock.
“What?” Baekhyun dares to ask, feeling self-conscious.
“Nothing I just--” Jongdae wheezes. “The look on your face when I said ‘tiefling’...” Baekhyun grimaces again. “Incredible. The humans have trained you well, huh puppy?”
Anyone who dares to say the word tiefling like it’s something to be proud of are quickly punished, so yes, Baekhyun is taught to flinch at the sound of it. It’s engraved into his bones the same way the King’s coat of arms is engraved over his heart. His hand rubs the brand at the thought. He can still feel the burn of searing iron, despite being long since healed.
Jongdae catches the movement and his ears flick back, frowning at the marking over Baekhyun’s chest. Baekhyun shifts his shoulders, palm flat, trying to hide it.
“You don’t like being owned, do you?”
“I’m not owned,” Baekhyun spits, then quietens. “Not like I have a choice.”
“Of course you have a choice,” Jongdae argues. “There’s always a choice.”
“And what choice is that?” Baekhyun growls. “Run away and be hunted to my death by my own kind and sent to the underworld to be punished for eternity? Or stay and be punished for one useless mortal life in order to deserve redemption?”
Jongdae’s eyes widen in shock. “Spirits,” he curses. “Is that what the humans teach you?” He crouches by Baekhyun, searching his face. “That your existence is… is what? An abomination? Sacrilege?”
“We’re demons,” Baekhyun replies, pulling back even as Jongdae gets closer, uncomfortable with the proximity. He tugs the sleeping skin higher, very aware that he’s naked. “Of course our existence is a sin.”
“And who’s to say we’re demons?” Jongdae tips his head, piteous. “Why is that for humans to decide?”
“Why do you say humans like you aren’t one?” Baekhyun counters.
“Because I’m not a human.” Jongdae’s jaw clenches. “I’m a tiefling.”
“Which makes you half of one.” In his frustration Baekhyun attempts to stand, but it only backfires on him, legs crippling beneath him as a pain jolts through his stomach.
“Be careful!” Jongdae chastises, tail flicking anxiously. “You’re going to reopen the wound.”
Baekhyun grunts as Jongdae lowers him back into sitting, then peels open the gauze to check the cut, exhaling in relief as his fingers prod against Baekhyun’s skin, finding that the skin didn’t tear open. Jongdae pins the bandages back in place.
“I could’ve let you die,” he mumbles after too much silence, “I could’ve killed you myself, but I didn’t.” Jongdae’s golden eyes bore into Baekhyun. “So maybe you should wonder why a demon would save a life.”
He leaves Baekhyun then, to go clean and treat the deer hide. Baekhyun, still in pain from trying to stand, just lies back, squeezing his eyes shut. He feels helpless and weak, completely at Jongdae’s whim if he wants to live.
He hates it.
According to Jongdae the next morning, it’s been two nights since the full moon, which only serves to heighten Baekhyun’s anxiety. Wolves who don’t return by dawn on the night of the full moon are cast as runaways, giving Baekhyun seven days to make his way back to Greykeep before the bloodhounds are sent out to hunt him. Even if he does manage to return with his life, he’ll still be punished for his disobedience, injury or not; he shudders. He’s not looking forward to it.
His panic is unhelped by Jongdae, who Baekhyun still doesn’t trust. While he’s done nothing but make sure Baekhyun is fed and well-rested, Baekhyun doesn’t know why . For all he knows Jongdae could be poisoning him, healing him only to kill him at the end when he’s at full strength, how is Baekhyun to know? Wildlings are unpredictable savages, and Baekhyun has already witnessed their strange magic. Maybe he himself will become one of Jongdae’s offerings.
But Baekhyun is still too weak to walk, so he figures he'll stay on Jongdae's good side for now without letting his guard down. He'd managed to stand while Jongdae was refilling waterskins, hobbled over to nearby bushes to take a piss, but he hadn't mentioned that. It's better if Jongdae thinks he's weak, in case Baekhyun needs to use his strength for a sudden upper hand.
Attuned to waking at the slightest sound, Baekhyun spends his time flitting in and out of sleep, pretending to rest whenever Jongdae mills around the campsite. He nudges Baekhyun with the toe of his boot.
“Eat.” A familiar command. Jongdae holds out a lump of meat in a small wooden bowl. Baekhyun obeys, tearing into the half-cooked bloody flesh and relaxing at the taste before he can stop himself. It's soaked in berries and herbs, so the deer tastes delicious. Jongdae laughs. “Cute.”
Baekhyun swallows around a snarl. “What?”
“Your tail.” When Baekhyun glances behind himself, he realises it's wagging subconsciously. He clamps a hand over it. “Tastes good, puppy?”
“...Yes.”
Baekhyun watches Jongdae from under his bangs as he smiles to himself, walking towards Baekhyun. He finishes the last of his deer steak, licking the blood off his fingers.
“I should check your wound again,” Jongdae says, gesturing for Baekhyun to raise his arms, which he does. It's nearly sealed shut, although the skin is still purpled from the poison. “It looks pretty good. How are you feeling?”
“Better,” Baekhyun answers, succinct. Jongdae hums, applying the clean bandages he'd been preparing while Baekhyun ate. The silence feels thick, but not heavy, Baekhyun obediently staying in place as Jongdae's hands move over his abdomen, cool and calloused. He swallows. “When will I be able to return to Greykeep?”
Jongdae freezes, black cat's tail twitching once in agitation before stilling.
“I'm not sure,” he answers coldly, pointedly staring at the bandages. “One night? Three? It's hard to tell.”
His sudden frigid demeanour puts Baekhyun on edge. “Are you even going to let me go?”
Jongdae's head snaps up, scowling.
“What? Do you think you're just my prisoner?” He scoffs, bitter. “Heathen wildling that I am, right? Torturing you by healing your wounds and keeping you alive. How wrong of me.” Baekhyun's ears droop. “I shouldn't, spirits know humans treat our kind like shit, but I'm better than them. I won't try to own you.”
Baekhyun growls, wanting to argue that he isn't fucking owned, but he knows it would be pointless. Jongdae bares his fangs in response, hissing, but they're both cut off by the cry of a bird from afar, freezing Jongdae in place.
“You need to hide,” he orders, stunning Baekhyun with the sudden severity of his voice. “ Now .”
Baekhyun scrambles to his feet, too panicked to ask what's happening, grunting in pain as his ribs and wound both ache. Jongdae makes no comment at his ability to stand, only supports him with a hand on his chest and back as he guides Baekhyun to a nearby tree, where the roots twist to form a hiding spot. He shoves Baekhyun into them, who bites his tongue as he lands, light blotted out as the roots grow overhead, the forest shielding him.
Baekhyun hears the rustling of leaves, and he wriggles around in the enclosed space, peering through a thin gap in the roots, Jongdae’s borrowed cloak wrapped tight around him, reeking of flowers and humidity. Far away, he watches a shadow drop from the trees above, landing on a stump, crouched in front of Jongdae.
Brown and white feathers cover most of the wildling's body, and he adjusts the fur cloak at his shoulders as he stands and hops down, removing his bird-shaped mask, feathered face meeting Jongdae's.
“Kyungsoo,” Jongdae greets, “what are you doing out here?”
“Looking for you.” Kyungsoo frowns, eyebrows creased with worry. “The Queen is concerned.”
The Queen? Wildlings have a queen?
Jongdae shrugs it off, waving his hands. The stiffness of his tail betrays his fake nonchalance. “She’s always worried about me.” He examines a nearby branch in his forced boredom. “I always come back.”
Kyungsoo snatches Jongdae’s wrist in mid-air, pulling it down and forcing Jongdae to look at him.
“Greykeep is barely a day from here. The forest won’t protect you forever.”
“Soo, please.” Jongdae slowly unwinds his feathered fingers, causing Kyungsoo to frown harder. “The full moon is over, isn’t it? I’m fine.”
“But how are we meant to know that when you keep running away in the middle of the night--”
A sigh from Jongdae cuts Kyungsoo off, causing a vein to pop out in his forehead from irritation.
“Jongdeok is there, it’s not like she needs both of us…”
“That’s not the point.” Kyungsoo’s shoulders fall. “Duty or not, she cares about you .”
His wound throbs from the curled position Baekhyun has been forced to take, and he inhales sharply as he tries to shift, lessening the pain. Dead leaves beneath him crinkle with the movement, and Kyungsoo’s head swivels immediately, peering straight at the roots where Baekhyun is hidden. It feels like the hawk eyes are staring straight at him, and Baekhyun inhales in realisation of exactly who this wildling is.
“I found one of your arrows, by the way,” Jongdae interrupts, distracting Kyungsoo from thinking any further of the noise. It’s the purple-tipped one Baekhyun’s organs had had the pleasure of hosting, fletched with white and brown feathers. Baekhyun grinds his teeth and clenches his hands into fists to suppress his anger. Kyungsoo tilts his head at the arrow in Jongdae’s hands, sharp like a bird. “And the dead wolf attached to it.”
“Hmph.” Kyungsoo takes the arrow, examining it curiously, the dried blood crusted across it.
“I offered it to the forest, hope you don’t mind.”
He scowls. “Like stupid dogs even deserve to be offerings.”
“Hey.” Jongdae’s expression is stern. “It was a tiefling, just like us. I wasn’t going to leave it to rot, that’s a waste of good offerings.”
Kyungsoo actually huffs out a small laugh at that, tucking the arrow back into his quiver. “I suppose you’re right.”
Jongdae grins with all his teeth. “I always am.”
“Except when you run away.” Kyungsoo pinches Jongdae’s bare arm, who yelps and pouts, rubbing at the spot. “I’ll tell Her Majesty that you're on your way back.”
“Soo…”
Kyungsoo holds up his hand, silencing Jongdae.
“Three days,” he says, three fingers splayed at the tip of his wing. “That's as long as I'll give you before you have to come home.”
His tone is definitive and commanding; Jongdae sighs and nods, relenting. Baekhyun is more bewildered than ever, confused by this different Jongdae, and his friendly interaction with the wildling that tried to take Baekhyun’s life.
“Thank you, Kyungsoo.” Jongdae clasps his hand over the back of Kyungsoo's neck, touching their foreheads together, gently. Kyungsoo's eyes shut, and it's an odd, intimate gesture that has Baekhyun feeling voyeuristic. Kyungsoo pulls back, nodding once before leaping into the canopy.
Jongdae exhales a long sigh, tension leaving his shoulders as his tails and ears both droop. He waits some time, watching the skyline, before treading over to Baekhyun’s hiding spot.
“You alright?” he asks, offering out a hand. Baekhyun takes it.
“Fine.” He winces as he stands, doubling over with a hand over his ribs. “Wasn’t comfortable.”
“I’ll pick out a luxury hiding spot next time.” Jongdae snorts, helping Baekhyun hobble back over to the campsite. He sighs in relief as he slips back into the sleepskin. “At least you can stand and you’re not in too much pain, that’s a good sign. It means the poison’s leaving your system.” Baekhyun swallows, expecting Jongdae to call him out, but he doesn’t.
“Especially since you can only stay with me for three days,” Baekhyun points out, watching Jongdae tense in place.
“Ah…” He rubs the back of his neck. “Yeah.” Jongdae clears his throat, staring into the fire he’s beginning to build with determination instead of looking at Baekhyun.
Curiosity burns in the back of Baekhyun’s head --good thing it killed the cat, not the wolf.
“You pretended I was dead,” Baekhyun starts, refusing to let Jongdae escape the topic he’s desperately trying to. “Why? Who was that wildling?”
“Kyungsoo?” Jongdae repeats, lips pouting as he thinks. “Kyungsoo is… Kyungsoo. He’s…” Jongdae pauses. “...A friend.”
“He tried to kill me.”
“I didn’t say he was your friend.” Jongdae grins, feral, but his expression quickly turns serious again. “You try to kill us all the time. Why aren’t we allowed to fight back?”
“Then why save me?” Baekhyun asks, confused. His head hurts trying to make sense of it all. “Why… protect me?”
Jongdae slumps at that, and he no longer looks impossibly powerful, just impossibly tired instead. His arms cross over his middle; he seems so much smaller.
“Just because I understand the violence doesn’t mean I accept it,” he mumbles, crouching by the fire to light it with flint. He blows on the kindling gently to ignite the spark. Baekhyun remains silent. “We’re the same, aren’t we?” Jongdae eventually says, eyebrows furrowed together. “I don’t understand why we have to be at war.”
Wildlings are heathens, runaways, demons who sacrifice blood to the creatures of the underworld, agents of chaos. They cause terror upon Greykeep and threaten its citizens. Baekhyun, on the other hand? Baekhyun is a wolf, destined to hunt every last one for a chance at redemption in the afterlife.
But here Jongdae is, saving Baekhyun, his mortal enemy, protecting him for no reason beyond believing that they are the same.
And are they?
“We’re different,” Baekhyun decides, after too much silence passes. “That’s why we’re at war.”
Jongdae huffs out a dry laugh. “How so?” he counters. “We both eat, and breathe, and sleep, and piss and shit and laugh. I’m sure you have friends, family--” Baekhyun looks away-- “things you care about. Things you don’t care about…” Jongdae moves over to Baekhyun then, taking his hand. “We both have two ears and a tail.” He presses their palms against each other, mirroring their fingers. Jongdae’s hands are calloused, but small. “We both have five fingers on each hand.”
Baekhyun’s face turns hot, and he pulls his hand back, overwhelmed by the scent of flowers in the rain that floods his nose with Jongdae so close. Jongdae frowns at him.
“You’re a wildling,” Baekhyun argues. His hand burns. “You worship a forest and live in chaos.”
Jongdae scoffs. “And you worship make-believe gods and live in a prison.” He leans back on his palms, tail flicking lazily.
“You don’t know anything about Greykeep.”
“And you don’t know anything about Hel.” Jongdae’s indifference infuriates Baekhyun. “Haven’t you ever stopped to consider that maybe that’s the problem?”
“That’s not the problem,” Baekhyun growls, standing. “The problem is that wildlings run around unrestrained, doing whatever they please--”
Jongdae groans. “So do humans!”
“And they’re not part demon!” His jaw clenches. “They don’t have to bear these-- these curses--” Baekhyun tugs at his ears, his tail-- “deformities--”
“Deformities?” Jongdae quotes, incredulous. “We hear better, we smell better, we see better. We’re faster, stronger, we heal ten times quicker than any human.” He stands, searching Baekhyun’s face. “How can you call that a curse? How can you say it's demonic?”
Baekhyun shakes his head, trying to prevent Jongdae’s voice from sticking in his head, strengthening the nodes of self-doubt that live there. He’s just temptation, temptation and sin in the body of a wildling and this is all a test by the gods to witness Baekhyun’s resolve, his loyalty.
“It’s conceited to think you’re better than humans when we share their blood,” Baekhyun says resolutely.
“It’s conceited of them to treat you the way they do!” Jongdae shouts, a tempestuous storm to Baekhyun’s roaring ocean. His hands clench by his sides. “And it’s foolish of you to believe they’re right.”
Baekhyun’s anger builds inside him, cresting against his broken ribs. “I am not some broken, ignorant thing that needs your pity to be fixed,” he spits. “I know what I believe. And I’d rather be kept safe in the city walls than out here.” He glances around him, at the way the trees lean in to listen, still singing for blood. Without his demon side being empowered by the moon, he just finds it eerie. “In a forest with a demon’s heart, where there are no... rules. No order.” Baekhyun inhales slowly, calming himself. “Power needs to be contained.”
“Containment lets it fester,” Jongdae counters. “Freedom lets it flourish. Has it ever occurred to you that the tieflings of Greykeep only act like demons because they’re treated like ones?” Baekhyun tenses, at a loss of how to respond. Jongdae searches his face. “No one is inherently evil, tiefling or human. But maybe being told you are all your life forces you to be.
“You don’t deserve to be imprisoned and hated by your gods simply for being born, Baekhyun.” Jongdae stands. Baekhyun’s hand shifts, from the edge of his wound to the brand over his heart to the leather collar against his skin. The metal shackles on his wrists jingle with the movement. “Safety doesn’t guarantee freedom, and it doesn’t guarantee happiness either.”
He moves back towards the campfire at that, his back to Baekhyun, argument officially over even though Baekhyun didn’t have anything to say regardless. Baekhyun’s ears droop as he withers, lost in thought, curling beneath the sleep-skin with his tail tucked between his legs.
Sleep doesn’t come to Baekhyun, no matter how hard exhaustion tugs at his bones with his energy funneled into healing his wound.
He tosses and turns, eyes drawn towards Jongdae’s sleeping figure curled by the dwindling fire. He looks so peaceful, tail twitching in his dreams, body soft. It’s the first night Baekhyun hasn’t passed out like a light before sunset, and he hadn’t even realised Jongdae had been sleeping directly on the ground until now. It makes Baekhyun feel guilty, for hogging the sleep-skin, but then… why should he care about the wellbeing of a wildling?
He rolls around, glaring at the tree trunks instead as the wind rustles, whispering nothing but nonsense. No matter how hard he tries not to, Baekhyun can’t stop thinking about Jongdae’s words, how Baekhyun can’t be called a sin just for being, how tieflings deserve to be free, how they’re one and the same, despite all their differences.
Self-indulgently, Baekhyun rolls back around, examining Jongdae’s sleeping figure. He certainly doesn’t look like the way Baekhyun had always imagined wildlings to be --feral, ravenous savages with no remorse, no morals. Monster faces hidden behind their masks. No, Jongdae smiles, he laughs, he has friends, a queen, family, he saved Baekhyun despite Baekhyun’s existence serving only to kill him, he cares.
So, why should Baekhyun care about the wellbeing of a wildling? Because… because…
Because why shouldn’t he? If Jongdae can care for Baekhyun through sheer virtue of cherishing all life, knowing they both only fight for survival, then why shouldn’t he return it?
Baekhyun growls in the back of his throat, frustrated. His world views feel disassembled, and he’s not sure how to build them back up. That osprey wildling, Kyungsoo, tried to kill Baekhyun and is the reason he’s here, wildlings have killed hundreds of wolves just like him… and yet, how many wildlings have they killed in return, when they’re all the same blood?
Baekhyun rolls onto his back, staring up at the sky, littered with stars, covered only by the tree branches, that peel back to let him gaze. No walls, no ceiling, no prison, just open air and freedom.
One thing is certain; Baekhyun can’t stay here any longer.
Baekhyun slips out of the sleep-skin just as the sun peaks over the horizon, and the forest heralds a new day. He traces out the sun’s path with his eye; if he just keeps walking south, he should be able to return to Greykeep in time.
He unfolds the sleep-skin and pulls it over Jongdae’s sleeping figure. He startles immediately, bolting upwards with a hand flying to the dagger strapped by his thigh. Baekhyun freezes in place with wide eyes.
“What are you doing?” Jongdae snaps, eyes raking over Baekhyun’s body, naked save for the shackles around his wrist and the cloak on his shoulders. “...And where are you going?”
“Back to Greykeep,” Baekhyun answers. “I can’t stay here."
Jongdae stands, wary, the sleep-skin slipping off his body and crumpling on the ground. His eyes slowly rake down Baekhyun’s chest. “But you’re not done healing yet.”
Baekhyun shakes his head. “I’ve been away for too long.”
Jongdae snatches his wrist. “So what? You were going to leave? Just like that?”
Baekhyun swallows, glancing down. “I’ve burdened you enough.” Guilty, he shucks the cloak off his shoulders, holding it out.
Jongdae’s eyes glance from Baekhyun’s hand to his face. He lets go, reluctant. “Keep it,” he says. “You’ll get cold.”
Tentatively, Baekhyun pulls the cloak back over his shoulders. “Thank you.”
“At least let me clean your wound one last time.”
Baekhyun hesitates before nodding, and Jongdae leads him to sit on a nearby stump as he grinds up ingredients from the pouches on his belt into a paste and unwinds the cloth strips wound around Baekhyun’s stomach. The skin is still purple and blooming, but is mostly closed over. Jongdae replaces the cloth with freshly washed strips from the river and smears them with paste before winding it back up.
“Wolves are given seven days to return to Greykeep before they’re branded deserters,” Baekhyun mutters, watching Jongdae’s hands make quick work. “...I’m sorry.”
Jongdae’s golden eyes bore into Baekhyun’s. “Why are you sorry?” he asks, voice flat enough to make Baekhyun shiver. His cold apathy seems to cause dissonance compared to his usual fiery warmth.
What is he sorry for? For trying to run away without saying thank you, for burdening Jongdae with healing him when he needs to go home to Hel, for arguing with him all this time and for running back to his so-called prison? Baekhyun isn’t sure.
“I don’t know,” he admits. “It just felt like the right thing to say.”
Jongdae’s hands pauses, and then he pulls back altogether, sighing. He looks so tired, suddenly, as if the stress of caring for someone injured in the middle of a forest catches up to him all at once. Or maybe Baekhyun’s only just begun to notice.
“Be careful going back,” Jongdae says. “Your wound is closed, but the skin is weak, and wolfsbane poisoning will take weeks to leave your system. Don’t put all my hard work to waste.”
Baekhyun nods in understanding, and then hesitates, biting his lip as he looks up at Jongdae, who avoids his gaze.
“Jongdae,” Baekhyun says, and Jongdae’s head turns almost immediately, zeroing in on him. It’s the first time Baekhyun has ever said his name. His tongue burns with unanswered questions. “Why did you save me?”
Silence passes, the wind blows through, Baekhyun stares into Jongdae’s sunshine eyes, searching his face.
“Not just anyone can hear the forest’s song,” Jongdae says, voice deep and low, barely above a mumble. “And I thought that maybe, by saving you, I would be able to… I don’t know… understand more. And…” More silence.
“And?” Baekhyun prompts, swallowing.
“...And that maybe, by being kind to you, you would be kind to Hel’s tieflings in the future.” Jongdae’s arms wrap around his middle. “Because maybe kindness is the only way to end this war.”
Baekhyun’s ears flatten. Jongdae may have been searching for understanding and answers, but all Baekhyun has been left with is questions and confusion. It doesn’t help that Jongdae stands before him, entirely open and vulnerable, hoping to end the violence between wolves and wildlings and rewriting everything Baekhyun thought he once knew.
It’s hard to hate a demon when they act so fucking human.
Baekhyun doesn’t think kindness is enough, but as much as his body wants to argue with Jongdae about it, he doesn’t. It may not be a solution, but it’s a start.
“Thank you,” Baekhyun says honestly.
Jongdae arches an eyebrow. “For what?”
For saving me, for teaching me .
“For everything,” Baekhyun answers. “I…”
“I hope our paths cross again,” Jongdae interjects, surprising Baekhyun.
He softens. “Maybe in a future with a lot more kindness.”
Jongdae smiles at that, genuine and bright and filled with so much warmth Baekhyun burns.
“Maybe,” Jongdae agrees, mouth still curved. “Goodbye Baekhyun. Safe travels. May the forest be merciful. May it guide you home..”
Baekhyun nods, pulling Jongdae’s cloak tighter against his body, and turns around before he can almost say that Greykeep is far from a home, and stay with Jongdae any longer than necessary. He only has two days before he’s condemned to death as a traitor, after all.
Besides, if Greykeep isn’t home, then what is?