Wehmutstau und Sturmgesang

5. Talk to Me

Morana was quiet the day after returning from the village. In the morning, she stayed in bed for a long time and when Yeosang offered her food; she sighed that she didn't feel like eating.

Her two guardians figured it was because of the fight and left her alone. After another nap, Morana found herself alone with Wooyoung. The gryphon-born sat against a wall with one of her books in his hands. His brow was furrowed as he tried to read the symbols slowly, still foreign to the craft of letters.

When she sat up to push her blanket aside, he looked up. Relief smoothed out his expression when he had a reason to stop straining so hard.

"Where is Yeosang?"

"Went to the surface with Mulberry to stand in the sun for a while. You know how the addiction gets." Wooyoung snickered to himself, never truly mean towards the dryad they both adored.

So he had stayed inside instead of joining his people in the village. To look after her. Morana was torn. She didn't know what to feel and what to think through all those doubts. Should she ignore the taunting of those kids? Or was it better to address the questions in her heart?

Yeosang told her if she bottled up her worries, her innards would start fouling away.

She didn't want that.

After closing the book, the gryphon-born beckoned to Morana, who gnawed on her lip with sharp teeth.

"How do you feel? Any better? We can try reheating some food."

Try, yes. Since they were always likely to burn their food if Yeosang wasn't around. Both of them seemed explosive when paired with fire.

Wooyoung was her best friend, and his grins were encouraging. Morana could trust him.

"Wooyoung, where is my father?"

Wooyoung's wings stiffened. Their junctures drew taut to hug the bristling feathers closer to his shoulders. He didn't look at her, just poking at the pot over the fire with a wooden spoon so it would heat quicker. Offer a meal to distract their mouths from talking.

Morana was too young to understand the nuance in his voice, but he sounded nervous when he replied. Shifty eyes dashed to the entrance of the cave.

"What brought this up?"

Morana dangled her legs over the side of the bed. She aged slowly and Wooyoung once calculated for her that her twelve years in this world only got her to the same size as a 7-year-old human or gryphon-born. Still, she had a wise mind for her age. More education. She knew better than to submit to needless cruelties, but she was often lost in this limited space. Felt the lack of her origins.

"The other kids in the village... They all have parents," she pointed out. She also lowered her eyes, not daring to look at Wooyoung when she realised how tense this topic was in their home.

Wooyoung tried to laugh. A silver ring with an amethyst embedded in it flashed on his finger. It didn't fit him or the colours he often wore, but he protected it fiercely.

"You have Yeosang and I. I have much more courage than the sleepyheads up there who never saw a dragon in their lives. And Yeosang is a whole tree. I'm sure that's awesome in his culture. Everyone sure acted like it back then."

At Morana's silence towards his speech, Wooyoung winced. The stew from last night began boiling anew and Wooyoung stirred aggressively so it wouldn't stick to the bottom of the pot. Morana could help him by preparing bread and drink, but she found herself deflated on the bed. So void of energy.

Wooyoung took a long while to search for words. Where he got them from, Morana never knew. He spoke so much wiser compared to others of his tribe and she had memorised his thinking face while he figured out what he wanted to say.