What's an Omega without an Alpha

Hoseok has been walking all day.

His feet are sore, trapped in his too-big shoes that don't really fit his feet. He knows by the raw ache on the backs of his heels that he'll have blisters tomorrow- and there's nothing he can do about them besides soaking them in whatever water he can find.

Gone was his busy city life, waking every morning for work, every morning to serve under someone whose scent he couldn't smell, and couldn't smell his own. Wolves dulled with medication, barriers, both physical and emotional.

It chipped away slowly at him, enough for him to abandon everything, without a plan.

So here he is, 6 hours off from the nearest train stop. South, or West, he isn't sure, just walking away from the sun so he didn't have it baking his face. The paved road turned to flattened stone, to flat first with a round mound in the middle, showing it only exists because of someone's truck.

He's been following it, walking along one of the tire tracks, with a small pack on his back with enough food to last him a week. Only one week.

It's freeing, though, feeling the breeze brush against his scent glands, uncovered, free of any ointment. His scent is the only proof he exists, out here. Not a paper trail with his initials, not a small desk in a cubicle that he can personalize. Not a small box with a bed that he enters every night, dragging his feet across the nasty carpeted halls- that have seen more mysterious liquids that he never has- that he sadly called 'home'.

Now he has no home, or rather, everything around him is his home. He just has to find somewhere to start. Preferably before the sun sets- which, now, Hoseok turns to look briefly behind himself to see the sun just about to kiss the horizon.

It's going to get cold, Hoseok knows. And things scarier than wolf men come out during the night. And he's not sure if Hoseok's omegan scent will do more harm than good.

Still, he walks. It's just as half the sun has disappeared that Hoseok begins to shiver. His anxiety rises like a slow boiling pot, like there's too much water and the flame isn't enough. By the time his shadow is long and stretched thin in front of him, his throat feels tight and he's battling his thoughts.

The sun disappears and it becomes hard to see in the strange lighting, dark though there's still sunlight, somehow, coming from past Hoseok's horizon. He has trouble seeing, squinting, and he remembers stories on how they used to see best during this, this 'Golden Hour'.

And then it gets cold. And dark. The only light Hoseok has is the slowly diminishing flame inside his heart that he's made the right choice, and that at least he can see the stars.

But he keeps walking, squinting at the road under his feet, trying to keep track that he's still on it, and hasn't wandered off to fall into a hole somewhere, break his leg, and die. The only thought that keeps him on this road is the fact that it has to lead somewhere.

No one would just drive out in the middle of the woods for exploration. No, there should be something waiting at the end of this road. Nevermind it could be 6 more hours of walking and Hoseok would never know until those 6 more hours have been walked.

He's trying to be careful, feet curving around stones and bumps, trying not to trip, but his head is starting to feel weird, not really lightheaded, but he thinks he might start to feel sick. He thinks he's going to start crying if he doesn't come to the end of this road.

He's hugging himself, listening to the sounds of nature in the pitch black dark as he drags his heavy feet along when suddenly, he hears something he hasn't heard for an entire day.

A car. No, a truck, a big engine, coming from behind him.

Hoseok turns, standing stock-still as he takes the last breath he thinks he can, surprised when the truck lights that barely lit up the road blind him totally.