Got my claws in you

Chapter 10- your hurts aren't your own

JIN POV:

It's hard to be the person you want to be when instincts can sometimes push you in another direction. When I want nothing more than to dote and fuss over my new packmates, to flit around and between both connected apartments and bustle in and out of each and every room, setting things in order or adding some of my personal touches. It's hard because sometimes when my new predator dongsaengs are making their way through the apartment, they don't intentionally creep up on me, but their naturally much more silent tread means that I don't hear them until their voice floats through the air and makes me startle, abruptly pulled out of the task I'd been doing as if cold water has abruptly drenched me and made my feathers all ragged and soaked. It's not a pleasant feeling or experience.

And my much duller sense of scent as a black swan hybrid means I can't catch their scents as they approach, can't detect what it is that makes my bunny twitch and jump when the others are deep in thought or frustrated and it makes their scents sharpen. Because it makes me feel like I'm failing Kookie, that I can't protect him or reassure him when I can't sharply detect what it is that at times causes him to stiffen, at times bolt behind me, fingers lightly grazing my feathers and peering over my shoulders.

And so when Namjoonie and Jimin enter the apartment, their scents are sharp and poignant enough, that even my considerably weaker sense of smell picks up on it- a burning sharp pungent mixture of their scents that seem to clash against each other, battle silently and merge into a confusing thick mixture of pheromones, I know immediately something's wrong.

Because it causes a stiffness in the air when we all gather for dinner in the other apartment, around the large dining table. Because Jimin and Namjoon seem to be venting whatever's bothering them onto the food, stabbing at it with vicious sharp strikes, mauling and mutilating the food more than they eat it. Because even though Tae had been seated beside Jiminie, his tail curls and sways slowly, carefully, Yoongi protectively edging close from Tae's other side, to hover, subtly touching Tae and dragging his chair away in the slightest. Because Hobi who'd been trying to lighten the mood gets a low growl for his troubles when he prods and pokes, hand falling away and face twisting into a look of sadness before he forces it away; as if he's not bothered, as if not letting it show how much the rejection stings.

And Kookie, Kookie clings to me, plastered against my side, ears droopy as if his instincts are trying to shut down on the sound too, flinching when the low growl rips through the air- startling everyone, pushing everyone to be on edge. He flinches back, hand gripping more tightly at my arm, the twitch of his nose felt when he burrows his face into my arm to hide.

"It's okay bun." I soothe softly, voice a low murmur. I feel my wings flap restlessly behind me, shifting because there's the tones of conflict, of tension simmering. And my instincts pick up on that immediately, I don't need a sharper nose to detect it when my eyes do it all, pick up on the fidgets, the stiffness, the little tells in each of them indicate their discomfort.

And I know that we're still gauging the waters of our new dynamic, that we're still learning to adjust and adapt to each other. I also know how much whether or not we actively or consciously allow our instincts to influence our decisions or behaviours, they still hold a level of influence.

But there's also one thing I know for certain.

That it doesn't matter what our hybrid species is, that I don't care if Namjoon's hybrid species is dominant as a predator, that the growl makes my wings flap with the need to defend and protect.

Because he's hurting the pack ambience, he's hurting my new dongsaengs, he's made my bun scared and I never ever want him to feel that. Especially in a place that's meant to be home, that's meant to be a place of safety and comfort for him.