Runt [ManxMan]

Chapter Eight

The first thing he was aware of when he woke was that his form was not his own, or at least, not the one he was used to. This of course led to several moments of confusion as he didn't recall at first how he had ended up in this form or where he was.

It was his brother's familiar scent that reminded him of the events of the previous day. He cracked his eyes open, peering around the room lit by gray early morning light. As usual, he was awake with the sun.

The dim lighting was enough to illuminate the silhouette of a figure slouched in a seat to the right of the surface he lay on, between him and the clear barrier to the outside. He couldn't make out the figure's face, but he knew from scent alone it was his brother.

Alive. Chase was alive. He still couldn't believe it. All those years thinking his brother had been kidnapped, tortured, and killed, and here he was looking so well, so healthy. What had his life been like? How had he grown up? Had he been happy? The omega hoped so. He hoped Chase had everything the omega had only dreamed of.

Chase was the only family he had proper recollections of, but there were other, older memories, fuzzy with age, more feelings than actual memories. He remembered his mother only by her warmth and safety, and his sister only from the stories his brother used to tell him every night before they went to sleep.

He used to dream of them every night, to dream of his mother and both of his siblings being together and happy. They didn't have to search for food every day and it still never be enough, and they were always warm and always together.

Had his brother had that, or something like it? Had he had the privilege of never going hungry? Never curling up alone in a den trying to conserve what little heat his body was producing? Of having people who cared about him around all the time, making sure he was happy?

He looked like he'd had all that and more. He was bigger than the omega remembered, and filled out, no longer all jutting angles and hard lines. He had dark circles under his eyes that were all too familiar, but not the bruises that once went with them.

The omega remembered how his brother had interacted with the big man and the others the day before, how confident he'd been, but also how accepted and cared for. Were those people the family his brother had gained since he'd been here, in this strange place.

And what was going to happen to the omega? He loved his brother, but he wasn't sure how he felt about this place, or how they would feel about him. He wasn't like them. He didn't know how to use their human language to communicate.

Really, he didn't know how to use his human body at all. It didn't feel like his own. It moved strangely, and he was supposed to stand on only two legs? What was the purpose of his forelimbs then? And how was he supposed to balance?

He thought things would be simpler if he were still a wolf, but apparently he frightened people. He didn't mean to scare the other omegas, but they scared him first, so he thought it only fair.

There was a creaking sound, drawing the omega's attention to the entrance to the room, where a wooden slab was being pushed open and one of the men from the day before, the one who had been bare—he was no longer, though only his lower half was covered—slipped into the room.

"Chase?" the man said. His voice was quiet, his attention on the omega's brother. He didn't spare the rogue even a look as he crept closer, until he was close enough to see the hunter's sleeping face.

The man's eyes softened and he sighed, turning to walk to the structure on the other side of the room where things were stacked in rows and pulled down a big soft looking object like the one laying across the omega. He shook it out and laid it across the hunter's body. The omega thought this was a kind gesture, because the soft object was keeping him warm, so the other like it would keep his brother warm too.