Kurt's howl of pain joins the chorus, sharp and distressed, splitting the air apart. Unlike the claiming bites adorning their neck, where the pain had been laced with true euphoria, a sense of belonging, Miles' teeth piercing their flesh is pure agony. His bite is unwanted. They don't belong to him, and yet he demands a piece of them Kurt has not consented to give and cannot take back. It's the worst pain they've ever felt.
They can't tell if the pain is what makes their knees buckle underneath them, or if Miles' threat is what sends them to the ground, but as soon as he lets go of them, they crumble. Sobbing into the grass, Kurt clutches their bleeding wrist, squeezing the wound tightly, hurt and frightened and betrayed twice over.
But they have to push through it. The pack link roars with fury, confusion, terror that's not their own, and Benji, poor Benji, they can feel his anguish, his guilt, and they know they can't let him face it alone. Kurt scrambles on their knees through the grass until they reach the youngest wolf, hands slippery with blood—the wound isn't clotting, why would it, Miles didn't want it to—cradling his snarling face, urging him to look at them. "B-Benji— i-it's okay puppy, it's okay, y-you're gonna be okay— please b-be okay. Naseer!"
The ground shakes as the pack shoots past bushes and trees, bursting into the clearing, finally. Kurt looks distraught, bloodied and weeping, reaching for Naseer, Corrigan, anyone. "He's hurt! P-Please, help him!"
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Date: 2023-07-17 09:19 pm (UTC)They can't tell if the pain is what makes their knees buckle underneath them, or if Miles' threat is what sends them to the ground, but as soon as he lets go of them, they crumble. Sobbing into the grass, Kurt clutches their bleeding wrist, squeezing the wound tightly, hurt and frightened and betrayed twice over.
But they have to push through it. The pack link roars with fury, confusion, terror that's not their own, and Benji, poor Benji, they can feel his anguish, his guilt, and they know they can't let him face it alone. Kurt scrambles on their knees through the grass until they reach the youngest wolf, hands slippery with blood—the wound isn't clotting, why would it, Miles didn't want it to—cradling his snarling face, urging him to look at them. "B-Benji— i-it's okay puppy, it's okay, y-you're gonna be okay— please b-be okay. Naseer!"
The ground shakes as the pack shoots past bushes and trees, bursting into the clearing, finally. Kurt looks distraught, bloodied and weeping, reaching for Naseer, Corrigan, anyone. "He's hurt! P-Please, help him!"