RTY | MW [✔]

01.

Wonwoo sprinted through the forest on four legs. He'd shifted the moment the wolves had brought him outside and unshackled him. His elation at being free to change form hadn't lasted long— he was being hunted.

He repeated Seungcheol's last words over and over in his head, using them to guide his headlong flight through the woods. Find the windmill. Run south to the river. East to the mountain. Climb.

Something about the directions didn't sit right with him— a nagging thought at the back of his mind that he was missing something. But there wasn't time for more than fleeting concern. He was running for his life.

He could hear the pack chasing him— every stray bark or howl made his heart jump. Right then, he was faster than they were, but that wouldn't last forever. He'd tire soon, and with no safe place to run to, nowhere to hide, he'd be dead before morning.

The distant sound of running water gave him a brief burst of adrenaline, and he managed to put more distance between him and the wolves.

When he reached the river, he didn't hesitate, wading straight into the icy water. Instead of taking the quickest route across and onto dry land, he stayed within the river, near the opposite bank, and headed east. It would confuse the wolves following his trail, but not for long. Once they realized there was no sign of his scent on the other side, they'd split into two groups, heading east and west.

It was hard going in the water. The cold soaked into his fur and stiffened his strained muscles. Every step was a fight against the current. After a quarter of a mile, he gave up. Wading through the river was slowing him down too much, and it wouldn't do the same to the wolves.

He climbed onto the bank, shook out his fur as best he could, and took off running again. East to the mountain, just like Seungcheol had said.

His swim had taken more out of him than he realized— fatigue dogged his steps as he tried to move faster. The mountain loomed ahead of him, lit by moonlight when the clouds parted. His heart sank when he got a clearer look. It was miles away, and he still had to climb it once he reached it. He shook off his disappointment— there was no point getting ahead of himself. He had to focus on reaching the mountain before the wolves caught him.

As he thought it, there was a howl behind him. They'd picked up his trail. The adrenaline did its job, giving him the extra burst of speed he needed. Despite his fatigue, he was still faster than them. He was a fox, after all. But it wouldn't last— not in his condition.

Even keeping up a good speed, it took a long time to reach the foot of the mountain. The pack was gaining on him, so close he could pick out the sounds of the nearest wolves as they raced through the undergrowth. There were at least half a dozen of them, hyped up on bloodlust, all their senses trained on him. As the ground started to climb, they moved faster. Maybe they knew the incline would slow him down and wanted to use the opportunity to finally catch him.

He was tired of running, tired of the hunt. It would have been easy to give in, to let nature take its course. Be the prey the wolves had marked him as. But the little life inside him fluttered in his belly, reminding him of its presence. If he gave up on himself, he gave up on them too. And on Seungcheol's memory, his legacy. Wonwoo couldn't do that. He wasn't brave or strong, but he was a fox. Foxes ran.

A final burst of speed took him up the side of the mountain, faster than should have been possible in his state. Desperation dogged his steps, the wolves all but snapping at his heels. The noise of the pack began to fade, barks and howls getting quieter as he raced on. Somehow, he was outrunning them.

The trees thinned as he climbed, and as he reached the mountain ridge, moonlight flooded the ground around him. To his fox eyes, it was almost as bright as daylight. The mountaintop was beautiful and ethereal, overlooked by a sky of twinkling stars. He could no longer hear the wolves chasing him. Freedom had never felt so exhilarating.

A low growl ahead of him had him slamming to a stop, skidding through fallen leaves. As he crouched low to the ground, a shadow rose up in front of him, filling his vision. His elation evaporated as the growl came again, more menacing this time.

He'd been wrong, so very wrong. He hadn't outrun the wolves— they'd abandoned the chase. And there was only one reason a wolf pack stopped a hunt. Territory. He'd crossed from one pack's into another's.

The wolf in front of him growled again, showing teeth that glinted in the moonlight before the clouds swallowed it whole. In the dimness, other wolves slunk out from behind rocks and bushes, surrounding him.

Frying pan. Meet fire.