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The first time Leona Kingscholar caught Jack's attention was when he was thirteen, sitting before the TV and watching the prince of the Sunset Savanna fly through the air like he was born to do so.
Fangs bared in a grin as he threw the disc through the goal once again.
Standing in the middle of his team as they'd been announced winners, he'd raised his arm and his team roared along with the crowd, trust gained in their newest, if not youngest, member.
Jack had been mesmerized.
Leona was ferocious, powerful, cunning and trusted his pack, he'd probably call it a pride though, as they grew to respect them.
Lions are the felines closest to the wolves' ideology, with similar ways of thinking.
He thought the Kingscholar would care. Even if he wouldn't meet him by that point, he wanted to go to Night Raven College. Not only because of it's predigiousness, but because his idol clearly thrived there.
Jack had been so overjoyed when he'd gotten his letter, he had bounced around like an overeager pup while his mother and father congradulated him. His siblings had been less hyper than him that day.
Which... with an eleven and seven year old, that's difficult to achieve.
He walked toward the cariage, breathing deeply and concentrating on keeping his tail up and away from his thighs. He will NOT walk in there with his tail between his legs!
The mirror's gaze from empty sockets is a cold sensation.
It could have been a second, a minute or an hour in which he stares at the blank background through the mask's eyes.
"Your soul belongs in Savanaclaw."
His tail escaped his jurisdiction after he joined the very back of the group, mesmerized haze fading.
He's in the same dorm as Leona Kingscholar himself! Even if the lion hasn't been able to show off his skills because of Diasomnia, he knows it's there!
It's all he can do to keep from bouncing up and down like a pup wanting a sweet.
Jack shares a room with three others.
There'd been a duo already, he and another lone beastman joined them, and as one of the first groups to do accept their roommates, they snag themselves a room they don't have to clean up first.
Why other dorms assign this kind of thing is beyond him.
They all eye each other a bit and all come to the conclusion that they have no need to fight amongst each other.
At the very least, not today.
He sits on his bed, bottom bunk because he's not a feline, he doesn't need nor want an elevated position he could break something if he dropped at a weird angle.
On this one, he at least won't fall more than half a metre.
It doesn't matter that the beds are well-made and long enough to be comfortable when he stretches out fully.
He pulls his phone out, hiding a smile as he texts his parents, telling them of his acceptance into the dorm of the prince of the Sunset Savannah.
Upon their immediate, enthusiastic replies and the greetings of his siblings cause a fast, steady thumping behind him.
He's in his home for the next three years.
The Housewarden of Heartslabyul overblotted a few weeks ago.
The loud conversations have faded into the softest whispers, but Rosehearts's frequent absence from class confirms that he's receiving some kind of treatment.
Only vitally important matters can grant that kind of repeated leave.
His unparalleled scores ensure he won't have to leave the college, at least. He's safe, in that regard.
The rumours would've stuck for much longer if the Spelldrive tournament wasn't around just a few corners. And Jack made the audition! He made it, genuinely made it! Sure, the Housewarden was dispassionate about it...
He'll prove himself in a real match. That should at least get some reaction.
When members of opposing teams began to get injured, Jack felt trepidation. With the first three, he'd thought he might be next.
Someone tripped down the stairs, someone got their hands burned, someone...
And then he realized that close to the places it happened, there was always the scent of Savanaclaw. Not like single, separate scents, but like an ambiance, like the air of their dorm condensed and took a stroll.
The floor of second or third years, or both.
And then the Housewarden called a dorm meeting.
"We are going to win this year." He had started, and the juniors stood at the edges of the gathering, arms crossed, while the sophomores were concentrated near them and peppered through the freshmen corralled toward the middle by their elders making motions as if to occupy the younger ones spots. Where the first years of course made space.
There was an affirmative murmur from the uneasy freshmen, the whoops of third years and the sophomores sat somewhere in between. "Our victory has been stolen far too many times. This year, we'll take what is owed to us."
Jack had a terrible feeling, especially because the people at the edges of their gathering had their magepens in hand, twirling them between their fingers in a mime of carelessness.
"We're a pride, and we are all in this together." The grin spreading over his face did not reach his eyes. "And it's time for our baby freshmen to prove it..."
He stands before flight of stairs, just toward the corner, arms crossed and ears pinned back. He watches a second year from Pomefiore take the first step and his tail lowers to press against his thighs. Sorry.
There was no reason for the student to have changed their routine. Still, he'd hoped he would've.
Seeing his face shift to horror and their balance tip forward, he turns his head away until one older student pokes him in the back with the end of their pen.
He hears the soft laughter at his back when Ruggie Bucchi gets caught by a packmate behind him before his forehead meets the floor. "Shihihi, thanks!"
The student with the purple shirt under their blazer has no such luck.
They slam into another student halfway down, Jack's eyes locked on the both of them now taking a tumble.
One of Savanaclaw, ears resolutely turned forward despite the yelp behind them. Either of their potential injuries softened by the other when they meet the floor.
Both their eyes shine, one of them with profound humiliation and pain as they clutch the elbow which met a stairs edge hard on the way down, the other just staring at the floor, head lowered to let their hair hide theirs.
It's his roommate, the one of a duo.
Sacrificed, more like used since Leona didn't care, for plausible deniability.*What the fuck are we doing?
The direbeast from Ramshackle tells him it'll protect him. "What?" What does the cat think he is? Nothing but maybe Draconia could stand to Leona. "Look, don't bother me while I'm training."
Three cardsoldiers, a direbeast and the magicless human from another world.
Who're they to say they'll protect him in a dorm that's stuck too deep already and collectively defensive?
"I can take care of myself. I don't need your protection."
He already sees three of his dormmates coming, with mean grins on their faces.
Which means he cannot align with them even if he wanted to? He may spend most his time apart from them if he can help it, but they're his pack now.
Welded together because and for Leona's plans.
And a true lone wolf is rarely successful on it's hunt.
Fuck.
He stepped before Leona when he demanded a rematch with Heartslabyul and the direbeast. All but one didn't even play the sport seriously or didn't yet.
That was just unfair.
"What's fun about tormenting amateur players?"
Multiple people growled his way before they pulled away after their leader lost his interest.
His skin crawls. Being singled out is never a comfortable experience, but he's fine, not a traitor even if they'll grumble a few minutes.
He moves away after telling the foreigners to scram. They do have some nerve coming in here. With over ten people who were targeted by now, with only a collateral of Savanaclaw, it should really be obvious.
Maybe that's just because he knows. But he could howl from frustration the longer everyone fumbles.
He cannot tell, the rest of the dorm would descend on him like a plague of locusts to pick his flesh off his bones.
They fight well.
Yes, Jack's on his own, but the only one on the other side really in it was the Heartslabyul student with a smeared spade on his cheek.
Really, they've earned it.
Fine. The cards'll be on the table now. There are five, soon to be six, dorms who'll be very cross with Savanaclaw very, very soon.
First of all, there's people who know, now. And Spelldrive players are popular.
Even with little ground, the little packs of all the different injured are already seething. If it turns out the profile of the spell fits...
Plain humans are often less tied down, meaning lifelong, while wolves stick to the one pack they usually choose after their family, if even.
But, by the Seven, they hold grudges and they will be as scorned in a year as they'd been a week after the fact if the transgression is perceived to be grand enough.
Injured friends, especially close ones... If Jack's fast enough, he'll get out of the beatdown six very angry dorms are going to bestow upon his.
These people aren't too bad.
He pities the prey of this world.
Taking sharp turns, dodging rocks and keeping his eyes out of the sand-choked wind while he sticks close to the cardsoldiers, warning the Prefect to move.
They're lucky they're the smallest fry in this fray, Riddle is a good chunk more personal than they are.
He can see Ace twirl his pen, his own ball of wind pulsing like a beating heart as it expands.
Deuce is in the process of summoning another cauldron, and the beastman lights a fire at the end of his own magestone.
"Together?" He asks, and the Spade waits for him to heat it before they both throw it at Leona's midsection. He dodges, of course, at least Rosehearts' got a break.
Now they're all just playing an intense game of keep-away, where every few minutes a different piece of prey bothers Leona like a mosquito around his ear to pull his attention from another exhausted one.
And then Diasomnia's Vice Housewarden decides to taunt him and all of them are forgotten.
One, two swipes and then the Phantom catches the fae from the back.
Deuce frees himself from his freezing response first, swings his magepen above his head, Ace joins in, clearly familiar with his packmate and throws it at the back of Leona's head.
As the fae gets out from under him, the Diamond, Heartslabyul Housewarden and Jack hit the Phantom all at once.
The sky clears above them, blue stabbing through the sandstorm as it settles.
They're alive. They're all genuinely alive.
Thank the Seven.
Now he lays in Ramshackle, on the Prefect's bed, completely exhausted, but his tail wags like crazy when his new pack curls up around him.
Covering his back and most of his stomach... They don't know what that means to a wolf, of course, but he's never going to leave them now.
He'll protect them, if not from their own choices. Otherwise, he won't have time to sleep. Or eat. Or do his homework. Or play Spelldrive.
And they'll protect him, no doubt about it.
They will all be welcome with him and he will get the same treatment from all of them.
Just as it should be.
Even if no, he will not get in wolf form just because Grim thinks it's comfortable.
Maybe if they all ask at once... Maybe.
When they all fall asleep, he fishes his phone out his pocket and breathes a sigh of relief when his father immediately texts back.
I've got a lot to tell you over Winter break, okay?
Savanaclaw may still be experiencing fall-out from all the things Leona made them do, but they're connecting.
The first years can trust their upperclassmen. And scam them for lunch money sometimes, because they're all guilty.
Especially the Juniors had been bitter about their many losses, pulling the rest of the dorm along after being blinded by their rage.
In the time where they should've flourished, they were cut down over and over again.
They're settling down now.
Maybe they're going to be fine. Even if they'll never be his true pack after everything.