A New Season

As soon as the temperature started to drop, all the members of the tribe got excited because the mating season was about to begin. Omegas did everything they could to ensure their smell was appealing and their tail's hair looked fluffy. While Alphas redoubled their efforts to show everyone how strong, fast, and fearless they were. Everyone worked hard, so when the gathering came, they got to be with the partner of their choosing.   Only a few members of the tribe hated the mating season, Kyle was one of them. He loathed being at the gathering and seeing how everyone always found a mate while he was alone, ignored like a rock that is no more than part of the landscape.  Although Kyle wasn't the prettiest Omega in the tribe, he had characteristics that would make him a proper mate, like a good smell, a somewhat attractive figure, soft skin; and small, fluffy and pointy ears. However, year after year, he could not find a mate because of his red hair. His so-called defect was an uncommon trait inherited from his deceased foreign mother. Nothing harmful, but the tribe's people believed the red color attracted predators and spillages of blood, which made Kyle the embodiment of a bad omen.   When he was a kid, and his father was alive, Kyle paid zero attention to the elders' comments that predicted a bad future for him, but when he reached maturity and, even worse, when his father also passed away, he understood why they said what they said. Since no Alpha wanted to make Kyle the dad of their offspring—making impossible for Kyle to fulfill the most important role of an Omega, which is to have children—he was soon deemed as a low-ranking member of the tribe. That was the reason why, each morning, he didn't take more than a few minutes to clean himself before being the first Omega to start gathering food. He'll never get a mate, so he didn’t see the point in fixing his appearance more than necessary. Instead he had to work harder than the rest if he wanted to have enough spices and fruits to offer to the tribe and keep some for himself to avoid starving during the winter when the food was scarce. Sure, as a tribe member, Kyle was entitled to receive a portion of the meat the Alphas hunted, but the meat was always distributed from the top to the lowest rank, and Kyle rarely got to eat good stuff.   That morning he left his hut wondering what would be the best place to start today's fruit picking. He was craving something juicy but not too sugary, so he'll probably harvest some of those sour berries that grew north of his tribe's territory. While walking and swinging his harvesting basket at every step, he ignored some of the tribe members he found on his way—he only felt the need to acknowledge the people who acknowledged him back—and, when he finally reached his destiny, he started the harvesting, trying not to think about anything that could potentially make him sad. For Kyle, being ignored by a few and having the certainty he was never going to mate was far better than being exiled and left to die, like it happened to other Omegas classified as useless in other tribes. Maybe when he was younger, he wanted to belong, but now he was content with having a roof over his head and losing track of time by doing his hobbies.   Three hour and a half later, Kyle’s basket was full to the brim, and he was extremely happy because he would be able to eat some of the berries and still be able to store and share the rest. He’ll maybe squash and mix them with honey to have that sweet pasta that was popular among the tribe's people. However, his happiness vanished when he was about to get back home because his ears picked up the sound of steps approaching. He turned his head and twitched his ears, trying to pinpoint the exact place where the sound came from and once he identified it, he squatted behind the nearest bush while doing his best to steady his breathing and move no muscle. As a safety measure, Omegas were prohibited to harvest alone. They should always move in groups and have at least one Alpha with them. However, Kyle had to skip those steps if he wanted to meet his self imposed quota. This meant, best case scenario, that being discovered by a member of the tribe would imply punishment, while being discovered by a predator would imply death.   As the noise grew louder and closer, Kyle kept his eyes wide open to be ready in case he had to run. To his surprise, when the bushes to his right stirred, he discovered that the one making the noise was not a predator but a member of his tribe. An Alpha. Stan. Kyle breathed a sigh of relief. But even though he felt safe, he decided to stay hidden. He registered Stan as someone harmless, and even if he was high-ranking Alpha—who might tell the elders he was breaking the rules—Kyle was sure Stan wouldn't rat him out. To tell the truth,  Kyle doubted Stan would notice him for more than 3 seconds or say anything to him. So no. He didn't stay hidden for fear of being punished. He did it because he was nervous and scared he might do something shameful. Because Stan was the unattainable Alpha Kyle had dreamed of having a family with since he reached sexual maturity. Stan was quite a handsome Alpha around his age, the son of one of the tribe's council members. But those weren't the reasons why Kyle liked him. He liked him because Stan was kind and was always ready to protect those who could not defend themselves. Although, when he was mad, he expressed his irritation with articulate cynicism. A negative aspect that Kyle admired because even though Kyle was extremely patient, when he lost his temper, he became irrational and resorted to screaming. Perhaps the reason for Stan’s kind nature was that he had grown up seeing firsthand the disastrous results of his father's selfish attitude brought upon everyone surrounding him.   Since Stan was an alpha, Kyle ignored him when they were kids, and only looked at him when he reached maturity. In that particular mating season, some older Omegas were picking on Kyle because he was trying to look attractive for the upcoming mating gathering. At that moment, he had no idea the reason why they were surrounding and making fun of him was that they knew no Alpha was going to pick him as a mate. So he just groaned and tried to cast them away, threatening with biting and scratching. However, he wasn't able to scare the Omegas away and before the bullies got bored and left on their own, Stan came on his aid.  He got rid of them, thus becoming Kyle's savior and first and only crush. Stan licked the wound one of the bullies made on Kyle's arm as if they were members of the same family, and Kyle felt a chill. He couldn't regulate his breathing or stop trembling when he felt the hot and wet tongue touching his skin. He purred by instinct when he saw Stan smile at him, and would later identify that moment as the first time he felt aroused. He was delighted and didn't hesitate to imagine Stan would choose him as his partner during the upcoming gathering.  But that didn't happen. When Kyle tried to get Stan's attention, he found out that not only he had a lot of competition, but Stan wasn't attracted to him. Stan had only saved him because he felt sorry for him.   Kyle got sad when he saw Stan choose another Omega, and the only thing that kept him from getting depressed was that Stan and the Omega he chose didn't bond because they had no offspring together. Something that wasn't too surprising, taking into account it was difficult for their kind to have kids. Even if both parties were young. Four mating seasons had passed since that day, and even if Kyle was still in love with Stan, he didn’t harvest any hopes of Stan liking him back. No one was going to do it, ever.   Kyle, crouching and hoping not to be noticed, detailed every part of Stan's body. From his dark hair to his handsome face, his broad chest, perfect arms to snuggle against, and his legs. However, when he was looking at Stan's legs, he noticed he had a big cut on his right extremity and was bleeding profusely. A bite, maybe from a big animal. Kyle couldn't help it, he gasped and stood up, worried for Stan. His movements were so sudden that he startled the Alpha, who took a battle stance, knife in hand, before noticing who he was. "What— oh, don't do that! You scared me! Why were you hiding there?" said Stan. Kyle felt his face getting red and wondered how bad it would be if he returned to his hiding spot and pretended that he never was there. What was he thinking? Revealing himself like that. "I'm sorry. I heard you, and I thought you'd be some beast—so I hid. But your leg, are you okay, Stan?" Kyle asked and apologized almost at the same time. "Yeah, I'm okay—eemnh" Stan answered with a somewhat confused expression, making Kyle realize that he had no recollection of his name. "Kyle, my name is Kyle." His tribe was big, they were around 200 people, so it was expected that even if Kyle was notorious because he had cursed red hair, a high rank as Stan didn't know his name. "Kyle. I knew it. It's just, my mind is somewhere else—" Stan tried to justify himself by pointing at his wound, but clearly, he was lying. "Don’t worry, I get it." Kyle forced a smile.   They were silent for a few moments until Stan spoke again. "Uhm, we need to return to the tribe; a wolf was following me." "A wolf!?" Stan and Kyle's kind were most likely to die due to old age, illness, or by fighting with an enemy tribe, however, they were still susceptible to being attacked and killed by other large carnivores such as wolves or wildcats, especially if they were alone and the beasts were hungry. "And you thought it was okay to mention that until now?! That should have been the first thing you said!" Stan shrugged. "Lead the way back, I’ll cover our backs."   As they walked in silence Kyle felt awkward and nervous because Stan was probably looking at him, and he could plainly see his unkempt tail and shabby attire. If it had been unlikely before, now it was impossible for Stan to see him as a candidate for a mate. Kyle looked like a disgrace, at the beginning of the mating season! What a shame. Suddenly Kyle heard a soft grunt and stopped his steps. The smell of blood got stronger. When he turned back he saw Stan, trying to pretend that his wound didn't hurt, but he was still bleeding and the wound looked more serious than before. He now understood why Stan had sent him to the front. He didn't want to be seen in pain. "Stan, let me help you," Kyle reached over and tried to support him, but Stan backed off. "I don't need your help; keep walking." "You're being too slow; if a wolf was following you, it wouldn't take long to catch up with us." "Then, don't delay us anymore." "I just want to help." Kyle tried to persuade Stan to swallow his Alpha pride and allow him to assist him, but Stan again refused. “Enough!" Stan's word sounded more like a hiss of pain. "You think that because you go out to harvest alone and nothing has happened to you, you are capable of helping me. Keep walking if you don't want me to tell the leaders what you were doing. You deserve a punishment for breaking the rules.” Kyle frowned, he knew perfectly well that what he had done was forbidden, but he didn't think Stan would be so ungrateful and threaten him like that. "Okay, never mind. Let's continue; if you need help, don't ask me because I won't help you." Stan snorted in response.     To tell the truth, Stan didn't have the moral standing to judge Kyle. During the hunt, he got distracted tracking a deer and ended up abandoning his group of hunters, which was also forbidden. Worse still, when he realized he was alone, he didn't get back to his group because he believed he could finish the tracking alone.  Hunting a deer without help would guarantee him a large piece of meat and, more importantly, increase his status. He was interested in being recognized by the rest, especially during mating season. To his misfortune, a wolf also was following the deer, and they soon crossed paths. Stan managed to escape the wolf's jaws with just a bite that caused deep cuts but didn't sever his flesh. He felt like a failure and was unable to feel grateful for meeting Kyle—who could help him— because now there was a witness to his incompetence. Even worse, the witness was a low-ranking Omega. Most of the time, Stan tried not to be influenced by some beliefs in his tribe that lacked foundation, such as thinking that Kyle, the only red-haired boy in his tribe, was a sign of bad luck. But it was difficult to believe that Kyle did not attract bad luck when he ran into him after the worst hunt of his life.   Stan was trying his best not to succumb to the pain, so he focused on watching Kyle's tail and how it swayed with the movement of his hips as he walked. Stan had never paid attention to Kyle before, but now it was quite easy to get distracted by looking at his legs, thighs, and round, fleshy buttocks. He remembered that his hunting companions once mentioned that Kyle had such a striking body that it would be easier for any unsuspecting sucker to fall under his curse. His good looks were a waste on him because no one in the tribe was foolish enough to approach him.   They kept walking and Stan was looking at the curve of Kyle's back when he heard the sound of a branch breaking to his right, and then he saw a huge wolf running towards the distracted readhead. "Kyle, watch out!" Thanks to the adrenaline, Stan was able to make a big jump and push Kyle away from danger, earning himself a new wolf bite, this time on his right arm. Although he didn't have time to examine the new injury because he and the wolf rolled on the ground. Kyle shouted in surprise and tried to help Stan—who was now under the wolf, struggling to defend himself with his knife—hitting the wolf with his basket and spilling all his berries everywhere. The wolf growled but paid no attention to Kyle; all his efforts were focused on slitting Stan's throat with his fangs. Kyle looked in all directions, trying to find something that could help them and soon saw a large branch, which he did not hesitate to pick up and wield to strike the wolf. The first blow did nothing more than irritate the wolf, but the second caught its attention. Kyle would have been happier to have been able to help Stan if it weren't for the fact that the wolf now had all its attention on him and seemed determined to devour him in one bite. Kyle huddled up, paralyzed with fear, and couldn't do anything but wait for the wolf to pounce on him and end his life. Fortunately for him, the attack never came. Instead, he heard a sharp howl and saw Stan, knife in hand, jumping onto the animal's back and stabbing it in the neck. The wolf resisted, but Stan remained firm and stabbed it a couple more times until the animal fell lifeless to the ground. "Are you okay?" Kyle asked when Stan, who, as soon as he realized the wolf was no longer fighting, dropped to the ground beside it. "Yes, what about you?" Stan's breathing sounded agitated. Kyle kneeled on the ground. He wasn't injured, but he felt like he needed a break to calm down. He looked at all his scattered berries on the ground. A whole morning of work was wasted. "I'm fine too." Stan picked up the nearest berry and put it in his mouth. The wolf bites were excruciating, but he still tried to pretend it didn't hurt. "This one is very juicy. You're good at harvesting." Kyle smiled. "And you're good at hunting." "I'm not so sure." Stan closed his eyes. Kyle sighed and crawled until he got to Stan's side. "Can you walk?" "I think, I can." "Now will you let me help you?" "I have no choice." Kyle rolled his eyes but lastly smiled. "Alright, let's go." Kyle helped Stan to stand up, and as they walked back to the tribe together, Kyle felt a warmth on his chest. He still didn't have any hope of finding a mate this season. This time he was not going to make the same mistake again and wonder if Stan would become his mate, but maybe, he'll make a friend. That would make him happy.