soft tickle in her throat reminded her of an old legend her mother once shared, warning her and her brother to never fall into one-sided love.
Keumjo coughed lightly to rid herself of the itch, her breath bursting into a white puff of shimmery mist. The moon was full and bright today the dull gray stones illuminated white in the silvery light. Her pelt glowed brightly, as if it had absorbed the moon and starlight. The tall wraith ambled up the cliffside path until reaching a large boulder, relatively flat and smooth on its top.
Good of a place as any to rest I guess… Her lean muscles flexed and her paws fell gracefully atop the stone. Sprawling her body out to bask under the moonlight, she had a vantage point up here, even when completely laying on her side. If she shuffled her head over slightly, she could even peer high over the trees in the valleys between the mountains.
Sighing, she retreating into her abyss, letting her memories take her back.
The legend followed a young fae who fell victim to an illness born from unrequited love. To Keumjo, love itself could be considered an illness for the pain and all the clouded thinking it caused. But in order to contract this particular disease, it needed to be one-sided, severely beyond simple heartbreak. The story wasn’t pleasant and incredibly tragic to say the least, but then again, when was there ever a happy ending? Unlike most sappy stories Keumjo’s nose would have wrinkled to, she found herself rather interested as her mother told the story long ago. She had been a pup back then, her brother still rather young as well. Both of them were lounging about the forest ferns as their mother picked medicinal plants. It was late summer, the frost just beginning to kill.
The tale begins with three small petals, no larger than the petals of cherry blossoms. The fae heart tight in her chest after having a passing and friendly conversation with her love. The male was warmer than the sun, gentle and bright, but saw her nothing more than a close friend. Her feelings bloomed in her chest white, pure, deadly.
She felt something rising in her throat, the urge to gag and choke sudden. After some hacking, she stared in horror at the ground, at what had thrown up.
Her brother had cackled at how ridiculous how anyone could feel like that. Keumjo had rolled her eyes and her mother stared down her son sympathetically. He would face his own unfortunate fate for his crassness a year from then. Keumjo eventually averted her eyes from her brother who was now throwing a fit about having silly feelings and she found herself staring at her mother, silently requesting her to continue. Her mother too was beginning to ignore her sibling.
As the disease progressed, the wolf would feel waves of nauseous and would continuously hide from her pack, trying to hide the condition. It became more than choking up a few small petals, soon it was suffocating mouthfuls, to whole blossoms, and eventually it was the stems and all. The thorns ravaging her throat until the white petals were stained a vibrant red.
“It’s fatal,” Euaerin told her, “A love so pure and honest which isn’t reciprocated. Those feelings begin blooming before you can realize. You suffocate. I won’t describe to you the gruesome details for now...flowers can express love, life, and death.”
“They’re fucking plants,” her brother scoffed, “Keumjo, let’s go hunt.” He padded over to her sister, giving her shoulder a bump with a toothy grin. Keumjo’s eyes flickered from her sibling to her mother, asking for permission to leave. She wasn’t particular on following her brother around, but he adored dragging her and teaching her.
Euaerin’s gaze on Keumjo was soft.“Did you listen well?”
Keumjo nodded, walking from her brother to touch her mother's cheek. Her red eyes thanking Euaerin sincerely, before turning to follow her brother who was shouting about what he thought wolves should be believing in. How he didn’t scare away the prey in the whole territory was beyond Keumjo.
The white wolf blinked blearily to stare up at the moon, drawing herself out of her head. She adjusted herself to a sitting position before turning her gaze to the heavens.
“Ah mother, dear Euaerin. I know...I still remember and I know. I should have listened. But your son...my brother...” Keumjo murmured to no one, wrapping her tail tightly around her rump, a small deterrent against the chill.
OOC: I had fun writing this post because I felt like developing her historical dynamic with her brother more.