𝟥𝟥'𝗒 🪨 𓈓 BEOMGYU 𝖻𝗅

Beomgyu was terrified, trembling with every step he took in that frozen forest, with a cold that seeped through his cozy coat and settled deep within his bones. He had never ventured into that labyrinth of trees on his own, too cowed by all the stories of werewolves—wild and untamable—that he had heard from his grandfather. But there he was, running into the woods when he heard a pitiful moan, a whimpering too painful to be ignored. He knew it was because of the thousands of traps his grandfather had designed in his lifetime; he knew they were meant to protect his own, but he also knew he couldn't allow a living being to suffer. It was reckless, of course; he knew it the moment he stood before a wolf with its paw caught in the middle of a horrific trap. The creature's mournful groans fell silent, proving it to be more than just a simple wolf with bad luck. Its eyes were expressive, so tired, with a tiny sliver of hope stuck deep within its orbs. That being was more than an animal, more than a helpless creature he could take home and protect; this was a violent, wild, and despicable werewolf that would rip the life out of him after being saved from danger, because that's what wolves do. His stupid urge to help everyone could be screwing up his fate, just as his grandmother predicted; it could end his life. Only, every time he looked at those shining eyes—perhaps because the moonlight reflected in them, perhaps from emotion, or perhaps because werewolves could produce tears... it was too much to bear. He would feel like a monster if he didn't help that poor being, so he did; he opened the trap he had seen so many times around the village where he lived, gasping as he saw blood spurt from the wound in one of the wolf's front paws, and offered the bandages he had brought with him, hoping not to be devoured by its jaws after having set it free.