Kevin hit the wall again, and he could only groan as pain shot through his muzzle.

Holding his sore jaw, the red wolf growled at the gang members in front of him. He might be bigger, but they beat him by numbers. He couldn't handle all of them at the same time, especially since he was tired before they started fighting. He woke up late today and his body was sore and aching.

Trying to stand back, he cringed as his leg betrayed him. He fell forward onto the ground, groaning as he felt his leg twisting. The thugs laughed in front of him.

“Seet, swáne? Se wolf is nar an hór!"

Growling, Kevin tried to intimidate them, but it failed miserably. He was on all fours on the ground, barely able to hold himself up with his tail tucked between his legs in forced submission. None of them would surely take him seriously. His arms hurt; there were several claw marks on them. Ugh, it was hard to cover scars. Octo especially had keen eyes on those things. The last time he had a fight, the panther noticed even a small scar on his arm and kept pestering him about it.

Breathing heavily, he accepted defeat. He lowered his muzzle and closed his eyes. "Fuck it."

"Aye, fuck it!" They started kicking his side, making him growl. “Gó en fok þinself, hór. Oh mon, þú maks nu!"

Don't bite back, don't bite back…

“Heler werþ' knåtte jé!" He barked at them. Then, when the laughter around him became louder, he reluctantly said, “…í jev åp."

That made them stop kicking his side, accepting his defeat. Tch, he hated this. He hated it when he had to admit defeat. Then, he heard hushed whispers. His ear swivelled to the other end of the alleyway. The thugs shouted “Hel, góþ nu!" and they suddenly left him alone in the alleyway.

Good… at least he thought it was good.

He tried to stand up but ended up cringing as his leg screamed in pain. The wolf clenched his jaws and leant on the wall beside him. Fuck, it looked like he twisted his ankle.

“Kevin?!"

At the mention of his name, he turned his head. A black jackal running towards him. He blinked; was it Mike?

Shit.

“Kevin, you okay? What happened?"

He tried to stand on his feet. “Nothing." He took a deep breath, then swatted the jackal's hand away. “Nothing." He tried to walk away, but pain shot up his leg again and he roared.

“Kevin, stay still." The jackal said, wrapping his arm around his back to support him. “Come on. Let's get you to my house."

Defeated, he could only let the jackal support him. Fuck, this is embarrassing, he thought as Mike manipulated him.

“What happened?"

No point in hiding it. Mike had probably seen everything. “Thugs." He gritted his teeth and growled, leaning on the slightly smaller jackal.

“Were they saying something about whores?"

Kevin growled again, this time at Mike, though he was growling more to defend himself rather than offend the jackal. However, Mike looked honestly concerned. “Sorry but I should've called the police."

He looked away. “N-no, they're useless. Lemme go." Taking another deep breath, Kevin leant even more on the jackal as his other leg threatened to give up.

“Kevin, your muzzle is leaking blood. There're claw marks all over your bloody arms. I'm calling the ambulance as soon as we get to mine."

“Fuck off, Mike! I know what I'm doing!"

Thankfully, the jackal didn't press any further.

Ugh, his head spun. Fuck them! He was a whore but they didn't have to be so confrontational about it! So what if he fucked for a living?! It wasn't like money just fell out of the sky! Fuck it! Fuck them! Fucking fuck them! I'm trying to live here! What's wrong with being a wolf and a whore?!

He then howled, holding back from sobbing.

“Kevin, stop!" Mike said, shaking the wolf to stop howling. “The hell, stop! Don't howl!"

Predictably, he heard some more wolves join in. The jackal sighed exasperatedly as he dragged Kevin to the street. “What the—I shouldn't even try."

“E-ei, sint jé oke?"

Kevin stopped howling and looked down with hazy eyes. There were two wolves not far in front of them. Mike just gave a big sigh and pulled him closer. The two wolves in front of him immediately ran towards them and helped him. “Oh, hel, swán. Hér helpem we."

“Hwat abyrtet?"

“Þú, gjakkal, hwat abyrtet?"

“Í fand hi in þe gatgang. Em his werkmát."

“Mótem we an sékenwagen rópen?"

Kevin just let them manipulate him. His strength was slowly decreasing until he couldn't focus his vision anymore. The two wolves holding him carried him somewhere.

“Mín woning is fær nat fråm hér. We kon' þár gaen erst."

He could only close his eyes and let them handle him, too powerless to take control of his own body.

Kevin opened his eyes slowly. The ceilings above were cream-coloured. This was Mike's flat, he smelled. The room looked cosy; small, but cosy. There was a large poster written in some weird symbol script that he couldn't read beside the door. It was giving him some chills, but he knew that the black figure in the centre was a jackal.

He slowly sat up and gripped his muzzle, remembering what happened. There were bandages on his arms and his muzzle was clean. His legs still hurt, but they felt better now. The sunlight shone through the window; shit, it was still daytime. He kind of wished he would be knocked out until late in the night.

“Muhhh…" His voice cracked. There was a glass of water on the nightstand, so he drank it, glad that he managed to not spill it. After a while, he tried again. “Mike?"

Not long after, the door opened and Mike came inside. “Kev? You alright? You feel any better?" the jackal asked him and put another glass of water on the nightstand.

“Yeah…" He leant on the headboard. “'T least I dun feel like… like a truck ran over me 'nymore."

“Good." The jackal sat on the bed. “What happened back there? Did they attack you or something?"

Kevin gritted his teeth; he of course would ask. Goddammit. “Pretty much." He simply said.

“You could've called me, or Ivri or Vilkas." Mike said, again with that worried tone.

It irritated the wolf; he wasn't someone people could just pity like that. Instead, he growled softly. “That's none of your fucking business."

The jackal eyed him, his ears lowering. After a while, they went back up again. “Those wolves from before, they said they heard you howling in pain, so they came to help. They hope you get better soon." Mike said.

He just grunted and looked away.

Letting out a sigh, Mike then stood up. “Should we go to a clinic? I don't know if I patched you up enough."

“This is fine." Kevin said, still not looking at him.

“Can you get to work later? If not, I'll tell the boss. He won't mind."

“I said this is fine."

“Is nát øver hweþer þú'r fine eð' nat, knap. Þú heler hinks. Þár sind wondmarken in þíne blöðije arme."

Kevin looked up to see Mike's not-impressed face. His mouth was set in a straight line, his eyes stern. It irritated him even more, but what he said was true, not to mention that he switched language and the fact that the jackal just cursed twice at him. The wolf bared his teeth at him, more as self-defence rather than to scare him away.

That didn't seem to bother the jackal in the slightest. Despite having a wolf easily bigger than him, the jackal didn't even flinch. He just sighed and crossed his arms, then reached for his phone in his pocket. “Í róp Vilkas."

“Fuck it, Mike!"

“Stop then." He said with that hard tone again, looking at him. “If thou won't go to the hospital, fine. It's up to thee to go to work later or not but remember that thou'rt limping."

Fuck, this guy is as stone-headed and blunt as Octo, he thought. He always thought that Mike was a chill guy to be around. Kevin looked away and stopped growling, ears still down in defiance.

“I made some soup for you. I'll go get some." The jackal said again, this time softer, then left the room.

Tch, asshole, he thought, but deep down he hated to admit that the jackal was right.

Finally feeling better, Kevin walked away from the clinic slowly to not be seen limping. The doctor patched him and gave him some medicine. Thankfully the treatment for minor injuries like this was free—he hadn't been paying his LFHT for several months now. Besides, they weren't major wounds, and Mike fortunately lent him his jacket to cover the bandages. It was a bit on the small side, but he managed.

He decided not to come to work today because it would be no use for him. He was a waiter, and his job was delivering drinks all over the place. With him limping, he couldn't do that. He also told Mike not to tell anyone this because he didn't need other people to know.

Tch, the red wolf huffed as he got on the tram, fuck it. This made him feel useless. Now, he was just going to spend the night at his flat, doing nothing. Maybe he could pay his LFHT later since he had money now. Also, Octo might come but he wasn't betting on it as the panther had a project at work that must be exhausting him.

Thinking about Octo made him feel guilty, but he pushed it aside. It was just a job, he reminded himself, there was no emotional attachment. Instead, he focused on mending his relationship with the panther, and it seemed to have paid off. Octo had been flirtier towards him lately, and damn wasn't the panther gifted with the ability to turn anything into lovely pick-up lines and he had to admit they sounded so good. The high-class refined act combined with the gentleness made a deadly weapon indeed.

Hell, he was sure Octo could've even gotten Max to his bed if he'd really put his mind into it.

Leaning on the seat, Kevin let out a huff. Apparently, having a boyfriend felt kind of nice. Even just thinking about Octo made him feel better. He took his phone from his pocket and unlocked it; there was a text coming in.

Octo panther: “Kev, sorry I won't be able to come today. I'll go home at around 20. I'll make sure to get you a chocolate cake the next time I go to your place."

See? All polite and refined arse with chocolate topping, making him question who was actually taking the lead in this relationship.

Then again, he should've asked himself that ever since they fucked.

He sent his reply, “No probs dude ill be at work anyway. Imma take the chocolate cake tho." Then, after several moments, he sent another message saying, “love ya." and a sticker of a wolf blepping.

After sending that, he put his phone back into his pocket and looked through the window. It was spring, and everywhere he looked there was greenery all over the place. He couldn't help but crack a small smile; if anything, he loved spring because it was a nice balance between warm and cold. It was warm enough to make going outside with casual clothes comfortable while still cool enough not to make him feel like he could melt any minute when he wasn't done shedding.

Unless when he was only in a t-shirt. Or less.

“It's you alright." Someone sat down next to him.

The red wolf turned his head and saw Max sitting down next to him. He furrowed his brows, confused. “Max?"

The shepherd just grunted while making himself comfortable. He gave a heavy sigh, his scent overpowering Kevin's own when he took his jacket off.

Kevin wasn't bothered by that, though. “What are you doing?"

“Going home after work." Max shrugged and opened the topmost button of his shirt. “Went into the tram then I smelled someone familiar."

Oh, right. It was a bit past rush hour.

“You just got off from work, too?"

Kevin shifted a bit to make Max more comfortable in the cramped seats. Fortunately, the bandage on his muzzle was on the other side, so the dog couldn't see them. “I go to work around this time."

“Shift 2? Sucks."

He shrugged. “Yeah."

Max didn't answer that. Kevin gave a discreet glance at him. Maybe Max hadn't all cooled off about that. The wolf just let out a sigh and looked back at the window, feeling defeated.

When he and Octo came to their flat, Max was… relatively friendly towards him. The dog didn't talk much to him, preferring to talk to Octo instead. He knew he fucked up badly, so he didn't wish that Max forgave him so soon, although it had been a few months already.

….yeah now he felt like an arsehole again.

The rest of the trip was spent in silence. Kevin just looked outside the window while Max played with his phone. He felt grumpy at first, but at the thought of Octo, he involuntarily cracked a smile. At least that stupid panther could take his grumpiness away.

The tram then arrived at his stop. “I'm going down here." said the wolf.

“Sure." Just before he stood up, Max put his hand on his shoulder and asked, “You okay, Kev?"

Kevin looked at him with brows furrowed in curiosity, then huffed. “Yeah dude, just tired. Imma go home and relax. See ya 'round."

The dog let him go. “See ya."

He then stood up and got down the tram, feeling relieved about Max on his walk home. The dog seemed like he still cared even though he wasn't all cooled off.

When he was in his flat, he took the jacket off and sat down on the bed, wiping his face. His legs hurt a bit from the walking, and when he opened the bandage on his upper shoulder, the one that was just a scratch, his fur stuck to the plaster and he groaned as he peeled it off. He rubbed his poor fur; what kind of plaster did Mike use anyway? The wolf threw the plaster into the bin and leant on the headboard. Mike had shorter fur than him; maybe the jackal never thought he'd be using that on anyone else.

He huffed and took the remote, turning the television on as he had nothing else to do. He'd pay for LFHT later tonight when he was out to get dinner. He'd already sent this month's money to his mother. Not much, he knew, but at least he gave her some. Also, despite his hatred towards Shaun and Shaun's laughable attempt at being the head of the family, the one thing they had in common was that they cared for their mother. That, along with their hatred towards their father, were the main reasons Kevin and Shaun kept holding themselves back and trying to mend their relationship.

Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes. In elementary and middle school, he learnt that wolves had one of the strongest familial bonds amongst the species. In a wolf pack, everyone was expected to take care of each other. Everyone had their own role. Everything was shared.

This was the main reason that despite how much he hated his brother, he couldn't just go away and pretend that he did not exist. They were still bound to their responsibilities. As the older brother, Shaun was to take care of him until he was old enough to leave and start his own life, while as the younger brother, Kevin was to be taken care of until he was old enough to do the same.

That was also the reason they deeply despised their father who left them when they were young. Shaun was three years older than him, which meant he was old enough to actually know their father and remember vividly the things he did. Kevin had the fortune of being younger, but still, he remembered holding his cries while crouching inside the closet with Shaun holding him close…

Such was the gravest sin a wolf could commit. Leaving a family was one thing, beating and leaving a family was another.

Kevin would be glad of this tight familial bond did he have a healthy family, but now, he wished he could just let it go. He wished he could just go away and leave them to build his own life. Contradictorily, that was just like his father, running away from responsibilities. He might be a rebel, but he did not run from responsibilities.

Speaking of responsibility,

His phone rang. Kevin took it and read the caller. He involuntarily smiled when he saw it was Tom, then picked it up. “Yo, wolfy. Sup?"

“Hey, wolfy." Tom chuckled. “Where are you right now?"

“At home. Why?" He elongated his legs and cringed when it hurt. “Miss this hotness already?"

“Max told me he saw you in the tram. I just want to make sure."

“Mm, lemme guess, you're worried I'm not okay. Aww, that's sweet of you." He couldn't hold back a grin. “Sure, cutie, I'm all okay."

“Strong words from someone who's even fluffier than the plushies I have."

He laughed at that. “Dude. Rude. You just violated the cute code."

“As if you haven't been." Tom laughed back. “Anyway, aren't you supposed to be at work right now?"

He huffed. He couldn't just lie to Tom, unlike the others. “…you got me. I'm not feeling really fine right now. Not that I'm sick or anything, just, you know, took too much overtime." That wasn't a total lie… “They're fine with me staying home today anyway."

“I feel that. I've had too much overtime myself. Just don't tire yourself out, mate."

The red wolf sighed in contentment as his tail started wagging. He then lowered the television volume and put the call on loudspeaker, feeling happy for the temporary packmate he had. Max might hear him on the other end, but it wasn't like he was flirting with Tom.

Making himself comfortable on the bed, he hugged his pillow. “So anyway, did you watch the new episode of Under the Moon? Fucking hell, I hate Xavier for doing that! I know he's hot but he didn't have to beat Xander that much!"

“I know right! Xander did nothing wrong!"

Kevin crossed his legs. “Xander was a bit of an asshole though…"

Notes:

LFHT = Landsfolkshälþþénest = State Healthcare Services. South Icelandic country-wide healthcare system. Instead of being deducted from taxes, citizens pay a monthly fee depending on the tier. There are 4 tiers, ranging from €15 to €60 per month.

Seet, swáne? Se wolf is nar an hór! = See, guys? The wolf is just a whore!

Gá en fok þinself, hór. Oh mon, þú maks nu! = Go fuck yourself, whore. Oh wait, you already do! (You do now!)

Heler werþ' knåtte jé! = Get fucking knotted you!

…í jev åp. = …I give up.

E-ei, sint jé oke? = H-hey, are you okay?

Oh, hel, swán. Hér helpem we. = Oh, hell, dude. Here let us help.

Hwat abyrtet? = What happened?

Þú, gjakkal, hwat abyrtet? = You, jackal, what happened?

Í fand hi in þe gatgang. Em his werkmát. = I found him in the alleyway. (I) Am his workmate.

Mótem we an sékenwagen rópen? = Should (must) we call an ambulance?

Mín woning is fær nat fråm hér. We kon' þár gaen erst. = My place isn't far from here. We can go there first.

Is nát øver hweþer þú'r fine eð' nat, knap. Þú heler hinks. Þár sind wondmarken in þíne blöðije arme. = (It) is not about whether you're fine or not, dumbfuck. You're fuckin' limping. There're slash marks on your bloody arms.

Í róp Vilkas. = I call Vilkas/I'm calling Vilkas.