For the Prisoner

25. Loup-garou

Seonghwa used the remaining hours of the day to prepare for the journey back to Briar Glen. Now that they had crossed the Wool Mountains once, he knew what to expect of their icy peaks. Their way would take them up through Lewes, across the same bridge they had met Wooyoung at, and then across the mountains.

So far, Seonghwa did a marvellous job at hiding his dread. He moved on as before, pretending this was yet another step he had to take for healing. All thoughts about the White Lady and her death were banished from his head. If the truth that he couldn't be healed and their attempts were futile caught up with him, he would go insane.

As if living out of instinct more than anything else, he took care of his companions. He made sure their bags were stocked with enough food until they would reach Lewes, bought Jongho a new hone since his old one crumbled apart, and even found a coin at a stand of trinkets that looked just like one Wooyoung would like.

Yeosang accompanied him on his hectic errands and showed him around the village. The group was apprehensive about leaving Seonghwa alone, and Yeosang had yet to warm up to everyone, so he liked to ease in slowly. He related to the silent resilience of the priest above the strangeness of the rest.

The wolf carried the heavier bag with food as he guided Seonghwa across the small marketplace.

"Do you need to restock arrows? Our fletcher isn't the best, but we have one," Yeosang asked as the priest contemplated what else they might need.

The question brought a smile to his lips.

"We have only one proper fighter in the group. Everyone else uses their claws or whatever is near to defend themselves." Or ran, but Yeosang didn't need that for the first opinion of Yunho.

Baffled, Yeosang looked at his own hands. His human fingers curled and uncurled.

"Not that I am different, but... What about the humans? The shorter one... San or Wooyoung, he's called? He always carries knives on his belt."

"San," Seonghwa nodded. Yeosang learned fast, and though his lack of social charm set him apart from the group, he fit in by being just as odd as the others.

"He... throws them," using San's words, Seonghwa mimicked a flick through the air. "But he also picks them up, so no loss there."

Satisfied with that answer, Yeosang trailed behind him. He reminded Seonghwa of a puppy, how he only moved when the priest moved, and his doe eyes blinked in expectant confusion whenever Seonghwa halted.

He hoped the jokes Mingi and Wooyoung would make about him inevitably wouldn't insult the wolf too much.

"How did you become what you are? Have you been born in this body?"

They wandered the ducked alleys over the cobblestones, nudged and bumped aside by nature. Vegetation climbed up the houses, ready to engulf them, and the locals didn't bother to remove them since it added to the charm. In summer, Little Lewes must be a beautiful place. Though the frigid stares the strangers received wouldn't ever warm. After only two days here, Seonghwa understood why Yeosang dreaded being found out.

"I haven't. Other than lutins or witches, I don't have my abilities in my blood. Normally, my condition is a jinx similar to yours. Disloyal Christians suffer the curse of the wolf for so long until someone recognises them to be human. To permanently become a werewolf, you must be bitten by one and live through it."

With a glimpse right and left, Yeosang tugged his tunic as far up as his belt would allow it to go. Across his hips and waist spanned deep scars. Reddish skin tori lifted from the tan of his lean body and reminded of the deep wounds that had once mangled him.