Jam
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3rd POV
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The dawn sky bled soft hues of pink and gold through the dense forest canopy. Shafts of light pierced through the leaves, casting long, wavering shadows against the damp earth. The morning air was crisp, tinged with the faint scent of moss, soil, and the lingering metallic trace of blood.
Cosmo, Goob, and Scraps had managed to recover enough to travel. Their movements were slow, stiff unnatural. Scraps adjusted the cloak wrapped around Goob, who still looked pale, but his usual spark of defiant energy was creeping back into his expression. Cosmo, on the other hand, was silent, staring at his hands as if they belonged to someone else.
Boxten watched them carefully, his eyes sharp but unreadable.
Then, quietly, he smiled.
It was small, almost imperceptible. Not out of joy, but relief.
They had survived.
For now.
Boxten turned back to his notebook, his claws scratching against the rough parchment as he wrote something down. A quick, efficient movement notes, reminders, observations. When he finished, he closed it with a quiet snap and tucked it away.
“Boxten?”
Cosmo’s voice pulled his attention. It was strange, hearing him speak like this. The rasp was still there, the fatigue evident, but it was more than that. The usual depth, the resonance in Cosmo’s voice it was gone.
Boxten’s ears twitched. “Yeah?”
Cosmo hesitated. His amber eyes flickered, uncertain. “…Where do we go from here?”
A simple question. A loaded one.
Boxten took a slow breath, his tail flicking behind him. His eyes swept over them Scraps, who stood with her arms crossed, tense but collected. Goob, still looking uneasy, shifting on his feet. And finally, Cosmo.
Cosmo, who had yet to say much. Who stared at his own hands as if they were unfamiliar.
Boxten’s ears flattened slightly before he spoke, his voice low, careful.
“…We need to get you three to the human village. Now.” His words carried a weight, heavier than he intended. His usual gruff tone was laced with something quieter hesitation.
Because this wasn’t just a simple trip.
Cosmo looked up then, amber eyes catching the dim light of the morning. He frowned. “You sound uncertain.”
Boxten exhaled sharply through his nose. “Because I am.” His grip tightened on his satchel, claws faintly pressing against the worn leather. “I don’t know how the wolves will react when they realize what we’ve done.”
Scraps’ gaze hardened. “You mean if they find out.”
Boxten met her eyes. “…When, Scraps. Not if.”
A heavy silence settled between them.
Goob gulped. “S-so… we don’t even get a head start?”
Boxten shook his head. “The moment we step out of this den, we’re at risk. But we still have time before anyone notices something’s off.” He turned toward the entrance, pulling back the curtain of thick woven fabric just slightly. The forest outside was still cloaked in morning mist, the shapes of trees distorted by the haze. “If we move now, we might be able to get a good lead before the wolves catch on.”
Cosmo took a slow step forward, testing his footing. Boxten caught the small grimace that flickered across his face. It wasn’t just exhaustion his body still wasn’t used to this.
Human.
He was human now.
Boxten’s chest tightened at the thought, but he pushed it down. There was no time for that now.
“Can you walk?” His voice was steady, but the way his fingers twitched betrayed his unease. His eyes stayed locked onto Cosmo.
Cosmo rolled his shoulders, testing his limbs like they weren’t his own. His movements were stiff, awkward, lkke a newborn fawn trying to find its footing. His brows furrowed slightly. “I can manage.”
Boxten’s ears flicked, watching him carefully before giving a stiff nod. “Good.” He turned to the others. “Then let’s move. Stay close, and stay quiet.”
Without another word, he stepped out into the mist, leading them toward the unknown.
The forest felt… different.
Not in the way it looked the trees were still tall, their gnarled roots twisting through the earth, and the faint morning fog clung to the air. The sounds of distant birds chirping, leaves rustling, and the occasional snap of a twig were the same as ever. But beneath all of that, something was off.
Boxten could feel it. The way the wind carried a strange weight. The way the air felt thicker, pressing against his skin. The forest was watching.
It knew.
He led them behind the den and deeper into the dense part of the forest. The terrain was uneven, roots curling up from the dirt, hidden beneath thick undergrowth. He moved with ease, practiced, but the three behind him now without their natural instincts and strength struggled to keep up.
Their footsteps were slower, heavier.
Boxten glanced over his shoulder, ears twitching at the sluggish pace. He caught a glimpse of Cosmo trying to steady Goob, who had nearly tripped over a stray root. Scraps muttered something under her breath, her expression tight.
Boxten sighed, stopping for a moment to let them catch up. “You don’t have to act tough. If you need a break, say it now.”
Goob groaned dramatically, bending over with his hands on his knees. “Oh, thank the moon. I thought you’d never ask.”
Scraps rolled her eyes. “We’re fine, Goob.”
“We? Oh no, I meant me.” He let out a breath, rubbing his legs. “I feel like I’ve been carrying rocks on my back.”
Boxten crossed his arms. “You’re just not used to this body.”
Goob frowned, looking down at himself. “…I feel weird. Lighter, but also heavier? Does that make sense?”
Cosmo, who had been silent for most of the walk, finally spoke. His voice was quiet, almost hesitant. “It does.”
Boxten turned slightly, ears twitching.
Cosmo flexed his fingers, turning his hands over in front of him as if they weren’t his own. The morning light cast soft shadows across his palms. “I feel… disconnected.” His brows furrowed slightly. “Like this isn’t me.”
Boxten’s jaw clenched. He hated this. Hated hearing that. Hated seeing Cosmo so lost.
He exhaled through his nose, pushing down the lump forming in his throat. “…It’ll pass. Just stay positive and strong, okay, Cosmo?” He muttered, glancing away. His voice came out more awkward than he intended, but he meant it.
Cosmo didn’t answer right away. He just kept looking at his hands, his expression unreadable. Finally, after a long moment, he exhaled and gave a slow nod. “Let’s keep moving.”
Boxten nodded and turned forward again. But just as he took a step..
“Boxten, can you carry meee?”
Boxten sighed. “…No.”
Goob groaned dramatically, dragging his feet against the dirt. “But my legs hurt.”
Scraps scoffed. “Maybe if you didn’t flop around so much like a dying fish, you wouldn’t be exhausted.”
Goob pouted. “I can’t help it! My body feels all wrong.” He flapped his hands, then winced. “Ugh, everything is too much. The air feels weird, the ground feels weird!! I feel weird.”
Boxten glanced back, frowning. “Define ‘weird.’”
Goob rubbed his arms, shifting
uncomfortably. “It’s like… my skin is itchy, but not itchy. Everything’s too loud but also muffled. And I keep noticing things too much. Like, did you know the ground feels grainy when you step on it? I never noticed it this much before. And my clothes are wrong, and my fingers keep wanting to move but it’s like they don’t move the way I want them to and-”
Boxten put a hand on his shoulder, firm but not rough. “Breathe.”
Goob blinked, then inhaled sharply, like he’d been forgetting to do that.
Boxten softened his voice. “I know it’s a lot. You’re experiencing everything differently now. It’s overwhelming.”
Goob’s fingers twitched again, his shoulders hunched. “Yeah.” His voice was small. “It’s like my brain won’t sit still. It keeps running in circles and noticing everything and I don’t know how to stop it.”
Boxten thought for a moment before reaching into his satchel. He pulled out a small, smooth stone and handed it over. “Here. Hold onto this. Squeeze it, if things feel too much.”
Goob hesitated before taking it, rolling it in his palm. “…It’s cool.”
“Yeah. It’ll help ground you.”
Goob squeezed the stone, his breathing slowing a bit. He nodded. “Okay… okay.. Thanks, Alpha.”
Boxten grunted. “Just keep walking. We need to get to the village before anything else finds us.”
Goob still looked tired, but he didn’t whine this time. He kept rolling the stone in his hands as they moved forward, his steps just a little steadier than before. Boxten kept his eyes ahead, scanning the forest for any movement, any sign that they weren’t alone. The morning air was cold, crisp, but there was something off about it. The usual sounds of the woods rustling leaves, distant birdsong felt muted.
Then..
A howl split through the trees.
Boxten froze. His ears perked, body stiffening as instinct roared through him. His hand shot to the dagger at his waist, fingers curling around the hilt. The howl wasn’t just a call.. it carried meaning. Urgency. Warning.
His tail bristled, and he quickly turned to the others.
“Stay sharp.” His voice was low but firm.
Scraps and Goob moved without hesitation, slipping into their practiced stances. Goob crouched slightly, his legs ready to move in either direction, his fingers twitching. Scraps stood tall, her muscles taut, her hands loose at her sides, ready to strike at a moment’s notice.
They had been trained for this.
But Cosmo,
Boxten’s gaze snapped to him.
Cosmo didn’t take a stance. Instead, he kneeled, pressing his hand against the dirt, his head lowered. A small murmur left his lips a plea, a prayer. It was old, instinctual, something from his wolf side that still lingered within him.
Boxten didn’t interrupt. He let him have that moment.
Then, Cosmo stood.
His amber eyes, burned with something quiet but determined.
“It’s a warning,” he muttered. His voice was rough, still recovering from the night before. “Something’s moving through the woods. Something wrong.”
Boxten exhaled sharply. “Figures.”
Scraps flexed her fingers. “We running or fighting?”
Boxten glanced toward the trees, calculating. The sun had risen, casting long shadows between the trunks. The village wasn’t far, but neither was whatever had sent that warning cry. If they ran, they’d be exposed. If they fought, they risked drawing more attention.
Boxten inhaled deeply, then exhaled slow. “Then we keep moving. We don’t stop. If something comes for us, we take it down fast and quiet.”
No one argued.
With a final glance toward the trees, Boxten took the lead again, his every step careful, measured. The forest felt smaller now, like the trees were pressing in, like the air itself was watching them.
And somewhere, deep within the woods, something shifted.
They weren’t alone.
Cosmo stiffened, his heartbeat hammering in his chest as the figure stepped closer. His mind raced. This wasn’t a werewolf. The scent was different, sweet, but with an underlying sharpness. Like something baked too long, burnt at the edges.
Boxten had vanished the second he caught the scent, ducking into the bushes with barely a sound. The others were left standing in awkward silence, shifting uneasily as the stranger approached.
“Hello?” The figure’s voice was smooth, almost playful, but there was something unnatural in the way it echoed through the trees. “Anyone there?”
Cosmo swallowed hard, taking in the sight before him.
The CakeRoll Toon stood tall, hands casually tucked into his pockets. His dark chocolate roll head gleamed slightly under the morning light, the red icing dripping like blood over one side of his face. One golden eye glowed with an eerie sharpness, while the other was stitched shut, jagged and rough. His checkered brown jacket had icing-like swirls stitched into the fabric, his cream-colored undershirt barely visible beneath the thick black scarf wound tightly around his neck.
And then there was the wound.
His pants were torn at the thigh, exposing a dark, oozing red filling that seeped from the gash. A large, intricately swirled cake-like tail twitched behind him, the edges frayed and uneven. His left arm was wrapped in a white bandage, too neat, too clean compared to the rest of him.
Something about him felt off.
Too human. Too not.
The stranger tilted his head slightly, his golden eye flickering between them. “Sorry to startle you, but-” he paused, scanning them with a slow, calculated look. “Why are you three out here? This isn’t exactly a safe part of the forest. Are you all lost?”
Cosmo forced himself to relax, shoving his hands into his pockets to hide the slight tremble in his fingers. He shot a quick glance at Scraps and Goob, silently pleading for them to follow his lead.
“O-Oh! Yeah! We’re lost!” Cosmo forced a sheepish chuckle, rubbing the back of his head. “We… uh, we kinda wandered too far from the main road. Didn’t think we’d end up this deep in the woods.”
The CakeRoll Toon didn’t answer immediately. Instead, his golden eye lingered on Cosmo too long, too focused. Like he was studying him.
Cosmo felt something cold settle in his gut.
Then, the stranger’s mouth curled into a slow, amused grin. “That so?”
Scraps subtly shifted her stance, inching just a little closer to Goob. Her sharp eyes stayed locked on the stranger, unreadable. Goob, meanwhile, was gripping his small stone so tightly his knuckles had turned white. He rocked on his heels slightly, his body wound tight with tension.
Cosmo’s breath hitched as the stranger’s words settled over them like a thick, suffocating fog.
A merchant?
The CakeRoll Toon's golden eye gleamed, his stitched one remaining eerily still. His smile was faint, almost friendly ...almost.
“I’m just a traveling merchant,” he continued, shifting his weight slightly. His fingers twitched inside his pockets. “Heading to the nearest village to rest for a bit. You three should come with me, it’s always nice to have company on the road, don’t you think?”
Goob, ever the optimist, immediately perked up. “Oh! That sounds great! I love merchants! Do you sell cool things? Like little trinkets and shiny stuff?” His smiled grew.
Scraps gave a more cautious nod, her sharp gaze never fully leaving the stranger. “Makes sense. Safety in numbers.” Her tone was neutral, but the way her arms remained crossed, fingers tapping against her sleeve, told Cosmo she wasn’t fully convinced either.
But Cosmo-
Cosmo felt wrong.
Something in his chest twisted, coiling tight, a sickening sense of déjà vu settling in his bones.
His fingers twitched at his sides.
Why did this feel familiar?
He stared at the CakeRoll Toon, his golden eye, the way his body moved, the casual way he smiled. There was something off, something that should click, but it wouldn’t. It was just out of reach like a dream slipping away the moment you woke up.
And then
A tear slid down his cheek.
Cosmo flinched, realizing it too late.
What?
He hadn’t even felt it until now.
His breathing grew unsteady, his chest tight, his hands curling into fists.
Why am I crying?
Why did looking at this stranger make something deep inside him ache?
“Whoa, whoa -hey now.”
The CakeRoll Toon's voice snapped him back to the present, the light, easy tone laced with something unreadable.
The golden eye flickered with something sharper , curiosity, amusement, maybe even recognition.
“Is your buddy okay?” The CakeRoll Toon asked, tilting his head slightly. “Did I say something weird?”
Cosmo wiped at his face quickly, as if that would make the overwhelming wrongness go away.
“I -I’m fine,” he forced out, voice hoarse, uncertain.
Cosmo’s breath hitched, his fingers twitching at his sides.
The CakeRoll Toon’s faint smile didn’t waver.
If anything, it almost grew.
Something about it sent a chill crawling up Cosmo’s spine. It wasn’t unkind ,not outright. But there was something else beneath it.
Something knowing.
Something familiar.
And that familiarity made Cosmo’s stomach churn.
His mind drifted, unbidden, back to the days he rarely allowed himself to think about. Back to when he was young small, helpless, unwanted.
A cub born from betrayal.
His mother had been mated to another, but her heart had strayed. She had loved a different wolf, and when the truth was revealed, she was cast out. Banished.
Cosmo had never known his real father. His mother never spoke of him. And the wolf she had originally been bound to the one who had supposedly been his father had barely even looked at him before ordering them both to leave.
Cosmo remembered standing at the edge of the village, his tiny paws sinking into the mud, watching the place that was supposed to be his home fade into the distance.
He remembered his mother’s silence.
She never held him. Never reassured him.
She only endured him.
At first, she had still hunted for the both of them. But that didn’t last long.
Soon, she hunted for herself, leaving him scraps. And then, even those became rare.
Cosmo learned quickly if she came back with nothing, it meant he got nothing.
There were nights he lay curled in the hollow of a tree, stomach aching, bones feeling like they might snap under his own weight. He chewed on sticks to trick his body into thinking it was food. He licked frost off the leaves to quiet his thirst.
And he cried.
Not loudly. Not in a way that might wake his mother, who slept without a care just a few feet away.
But in the quiet, muffled sobs of a child who knew he was alone.
Or at least…
He thought he was alone.
But sometimes, in the haze of hunger and exhaustion, he swore he wasn’t.
There were whispers.
Not words just something. A presence, lingering just out of sight.
And hands.
Not his mother’s.
Not rough or indifferent.
Gentle.
A warmth that curled around him when he shivered, a phantom touch smoothing his fur, cradling him, whispering things he couldn’t quite remember.
But one thing always stood out.
“My little Grape Jam.”
The nickname echoed in his mind, fuzzy, distant, like a dream slipping through his fingers.
But it had felt real.
Every time he dreamed of it of them he woke with tears on his face.
And no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t remember who it was.
Just that, once, someone had held him.
Someone had cared.
But his mother hadn’t.
And one day… she was gone.
No warning. No goodbye.
Just gone.
Cosmo had spent days searching. He didn’t know why. He should’ve been relieved.
But he was still just a cub.
And cubs weren’t meant to be alone.
He had nearly died in that forest.
Until Gigi found him.
Until she wrapped him in her warmth, fed him, loved him.
Cosmo owed his sister everything.
And so, when he grew older when he could finally give back he did what his heart called him to do.
He baked.
For her. For himself.
Because the warmth of fresh bread and the sweetness of sugar reminded him of the love he’d finally found.
Because, for the first time in his life, he belonged.
When the new Alpha gave him a role as a physician some called it a doctor, he took to it without hesitation. He had spent so long learning to heal, learning to care for others in a way he had never been cared for.
He helped so many. Treated wounds, eased fevers, soothed pain. And in return, he got to see their smiles the quiet relief in their eyes when the pain lessened, when they could breathe again.
It filled something in him.
Made him feel whole.
And the fact that most of his medicine could be incorporated into baked treats herbs tucked into warm bread, powdered roots mixed into honeyed pastries it felt right.
Like healing didn’t have to taste bitter.
Like it could be kind.
It reminded him that he wasn’t alone anymore.
So why…
Why did looking at this stranger make that old, aching emptiness creep back in?
Why did his chest feel so tight?
Why did he feel like something was staring at him not just with curiosity, but with recognition?
Cosmo swallowed hard, forcing himself to take a step back.
“Hey,” Scraps’ voice cut through the fog of his thoughts. “You sure you’re good?”
Cosmo hesitated.
He should have been fine.
But there was something about that CakeRoll Toon.
The way he looked at him. The way his one golden eye lingered.
It was like standing at the edge of a memory he couldn’t quite reach.
Like something lost was staring him in the face.
Cosmo forced a breath, nodded. “Yeah. Just tired.”
And yet, as the words left his lips, he wasn’t sure if he was telling the truth.
“Well, just follow me. My merchant wagon is nearby I’m just resting up my horse,” the CakeRoll Toon said, his voice light and smooth, too easygoing.
He turned, motioning for them to follow.
Cosmo hesitated for just a moment longer, then fell into step beside Scraps and Goob.
Boxten didn’t move.
His golden eyes lingered on Cosmo, something unreadable flickering through them.
This was it.
Cosmo was leaving.
Scraps glanced back at Boxten, her sharp eyes catching the way his hands clenched at his sides. She knew what this meant for him what he wasn’t saying.
She nudged Goob, who was busy fiddling with a small stone in his hands, rolling it between his fingers anxiously.
“Hey, Boxten,” Scraps called over her shoulder. “You coming or what?”
Boxten blinked, startled out of his daze. His ears twitched, and for a split second, he looked like he might take a step forward might change his mind.
But then his shoulders stiffened.
He looked at Cosmo.
And Cosmo, as if sensing the weight of that gaze, turned back to him.
For a second, the world around them faded.
Cosmo smiled small, warm, soft. A silent thank you.
And Boxten?
His heart ached.
But he forced himself to nod.
Cosmo was human now. He didn’t belong in the forest anymore.
He had done his part.
He had protected him.
And now… he had to let him go.
Boxten turned away, stepping back into the trees without another word.
Scraps watched him disappear into the mist, her expression unreadable.
Goob, oblivious to the unspoken tension, frowned. “Wait, is he not coming?”
Scraps sighed, ruffling Goob’s hair. “No, dummy. He’s not.”
Cosmo stood still for a moment longer, staring at the spot where Boxten had been.
Then, slowly, he turned and followed the CakeRoll Toon.
He didn’t look back.
And the forest felt just a little bit colder.
Cosmo’s steps were slow at first, his mind still lingering on the warmth he was walking away from the safety he had always known. But there was no turning back now. The air around them felt thick, heavy, as if the trees themselves mourned his departure.
Scraps, always one to break an uncomfortable silence, cleared her throat. “Hey, what’s your name, anyway?”
The CakeRoll Toon turned slightly, his golden eye glinting in the dim morning light. “Jami, Jami Choco” he said, his voice carrying an odd warmth. “Nice to meet you.”
Scraps gave a firm nod. “Scraps. Scraps Crafting. This is my younger brother, Goob, and that’s-”
Before she could finish, Cosmo spoke up.
“Cosmo.” His voice was quieter than he intended. “Cosmo Pâtisserie.”
At that, Jami stilled.
Something flickered in his gazean unspoken recognition, a glimmer of something deeper. His stitched eye remained shut, unreadable, but his golden one softened.
For a moment, Cosmo thought he saw something familiar in him.
Then, Jami smiled.
“That’s a lovely name you have, Cosmo.”
Cosmo swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. There was something about the way Jami said his name, the way it rolled off his tongue, like he had spoken it before like it meant something to him. Scraps, noticing the pause, gave Cosmo a quick glance but said nothing.
Goob, however, had no such filter.
“Why’s your eye stitched shut?” he blurted, tilting his head curiously.
Scraps immediately smacked the back of his head. “Goob!”
“What?” Goob rubbed the spot, frowning. “I was just asking.”
Jami chuckled, but there was something almost distant about it. “It’s alright,” he said smoothly. “It’s an old wound. One that never quite healed right.”
Cosmo stared at him.
He wasn’t sure why, but that answer didn’t sit right with him.
“How’d you get it?” he asked before he could stop himself.
Jami’s golden eye locked onto his. The easy smile on his lips remained, but something behind it shifted like he was measuring his words.
“That,” he murmured, “is a story for another time.”
Cosmo felt a strange chill creep up his spine.