Feral - A Septiplier Fanfiction

Ch.9

"Mark?" Jack called out as he took a step outside, the cold wind whipping against his face painfully. Mark was sitting out in the middle of the yard, hunched over with his head down. He moved his body in acknowledgement almost, but made no move to go near Jack, as usual.

Jack sighed. It was getting colder out, and assuming that the man- who probably warmed himself up by always being on the move all the time- didn't move around as much as he used to, Jack was afraid of the Feral getting frostbite or dying from the cold weather. But he refused to go near the house and only tolerated sleeping by a fire from a certain length. He hadn't even gotten close enough for reaching distance since the first time.

Two more weeks had went by, and Jack finally had somewhat of a system going with Mark. The Feral would hunt and come back to allow Jack to cook and eat his fill while tossing bits to Mark in return. And Mark made sure Jack had the first bite, almost like he was parenting the Irishman. They would both sit by the fire to warm up, and then afterwards Jack would usually go inside to sleep, though sometimes stayed outside to sleep close by Mark. He didn't even understand why he would do such a thing at this point, not that it mattered. Jack stopped once the cold was too overwhelming for him.

The biggest problem they faced however, wasn't the cold. It was their supplies. Jack didn't want to stray again into wooded territory where the Ferals lived in order for some chance to find dry leaves and bark and branches, even with Mark following Jack more often now. Plus, staying in one place too long would cause him to grow some attachment to the area, more than he already had and that's not what he wanted.

Jack held the clothes under his arm, the only thing worth bringing, and began to walk down the steps without looking back. He had to leave, he needed to find a place of warmer climate. He was going to walk south and keep walking until he found another place to set up for a while, even if it killed him. He began to walk in the Southern direction, hoping Mark would take the hint and follow; and he did.

Mark panted softly as he trotted after Jack and the Irishman couldn't help but cringe at the dog-like behavior. His excitement and relief towards finding Mark had started to wear off for a while and now everything about the situation felt wrong. Mark was a wild animal, no matter how Jack looked at it, and having gone across countries just to find him and tame him somehow, made the man feel pathetic and crazy. But here he was, and he would have to be even crazier to stop and give up after all of this.

Jack shivered harshly at the cold but pressed on from the time he started until the sun began to set. His feet were frozen numb and the only way to circulate any feeling within him was to keep moving, but he knew soon he would have to rest his sore body. There was plenty of buildings to go into around town, but Jack avoided that part. He didn't know where any of the safehouses were located, and he didn't want them to see Mark and hurt him.

Jack sat down on a nearby log, stomach growling and body shaking uncontrollably. He watched Mark sit and shiver as well, and sighed, deciding to attempt at dressing Mark finally. Jack knelt down on his knees and spoke softly in a scratchy voice, "Mark, come here." Mark stared suspiciously and refused to move, so Jack grabbed one of the warmest shirts from the pile under his arm and brought it out for show. "I'm not gonna hurt you, this is gonna keep you warm, okay?"

Mark huffed in response, and Jack slowly inched closer, ignoring the warning growl from Mark. He brought it to his own face and snuggled into it with a sigh of content, before pulling back and offering the shirt once more.

It was like trying to get a baby to eat something, a very dangerous, murderous baby. Mark continued to growl but made no move to harm Jack even when they were inches apart, so Jack slowly pulled the hole down over Mark's head, flinching when there was a small jerk and a snarl.