Of course it's a trap. They all know it's a trap. Miles knows, Benji knows, Kurt knows. It's known that the second the little human is close enough to reach out, that Miles is going to pull back the antidote, grab their wrist and yank them closer, rough enough to nearly pull them off their feet, that he's going to hold on tight with the inhuman power that's unmistakably wolf. And that's exactly what he does, fingers reaching easily around Kurt's slender wrist, a pleased growl rumbling in his chest at the feel of them, their scent so close, after weeks of chasing it through the forest.

Barely conscious, Benji still lurches half-up, snarls brokenly, eyes bleary as he tries to force himself to his feet. The growls are pained, but he's still trying, shaking his head violently like that'll expel the poison somehow. Miles clicks his tongue, arm snaking around Kurt, keeping them pulled close. "Don't be a hero, puppy. You know what I can do."

Then, looking down at the terrified little human, he's all softness, a gentle smile, even as he tucks the antidote back in his pocket and smooths their hair back from their face. "See, isn't this much better than shouting across a clearing? Everyone else in the pack has gotten a turn to be up close and personal with you. It's only fair I do too."