Wehmutstau und Sturmgesang

6. Just a Peek

Wooyoung waited until Morana was fast asleep before he whistled for Mulberry. Though the gryphon was supposed to wait until Yeosang wanted to come home, it would be better to talk outside of the cave. Morana was sneaky enough to listen in if she woke.

As soon as his brother settled on his nest and purred in response to Wooyoung's silent plea to watch over Morana, Wooyoung took off. He dropped from the entrance of the cave and opened his wings to catch the whirling winds of the stormy ocean. Though the water was agitated, the night was clear and Wooyoung twirled up the cliff with a few powerful flaps.

Yeosang frequented a specific spot. He had certain trees he liked to hang out with more than with others. Something about leafy trees being nicer than the locally predominant conifers, but Wooyoung stopped listening to his babbling when it got more and more obscure. Since he was easy to find as the sole walnut tree nearby, Wooyoung sailed right over and his talons dug into the soft earth of the incoming spring.

The sun had already passed the ocean's surface, but Yeosang lingered in silent conversation with the trees and animals he befriended here. When he noticed Wooyoung in the twilight, his face morphed from his smooth bark.

"Why are you up here? What about Morana?"

Though she was old enough to best the cliffs and the ocean by herself, Yeosang firmly instructed never to leave her alone. One of the three was always with her. Paranoid of the enemies of their past who might be out to vanquish the royal bloodline entirely.

"Mulberry is there," Wooyoung assured him as he dropped onto the ground, leaning back against Yeosang's stem. Depending on the angle, the old injury of his wing sometimes echoed its past pain. He settled at comfort to look out over the cliffs and the ocean. So peaceful in his home yet haunted by restlessness.

It had been scary to talk about this topic with Morana. Because Wooyoung also felt stifled here. Was torn inside even after a decade of healing.

Nervosity hooked his fingers into each other. His heart beat faster than usual, as if he was in an exhilarating flight. In battle. Or in the arms of his precious person.

"How is she?" Yeosang asked while his shape morphed to accommodate Wooyoung with softer mosses and curving branches. Satisfied, Wooyoung snuggled into him.

"She didn't get sick," Wooyoung began, since that would soothe Yeosang's worries after her fight. "But she grew more restless. She asked me about Seonghwa again."

Wooyoung closed his eyes to exhale. If he imagined really hard, he could visualise his love before him. The silky black locks over fluttering garments. His scent of moonflowers and starlight. The gentle shine of his smile and the caress of his cold skin.

The images ingrained into his mind were the sole thing keeping Wooyoung sane. Whenever the nightmares caught up and he was reminded of what happened that night, his body locked up in fear. He wanted to scream and cry how he had done when they first arrived back here. For days, he had punched and scratched at the bleak walls of the cave, shredding the flesh of his fingers in his agony to have Seonghwa back by his side.

The terror got easier, but it never healed.

And every time Morana asked, she tore open old wounds.

Both he and Yeosang suffered for it, but they would never complain. Both knew she was too young to understand and suffered in a way they couldn't grasp.

"She's getting older every day, Yeosang... We can't keep the secret forever," Wooyoung mumbled. His guilt had him cast his eyes to the ground.

He promised to wait to tell her. But Wooyoung wanted to cry with her, wanted to be free in his sorrow.