Personal Message



 

Description
 

Jw

 
 
 

jeon wonwoo

17 july

omega (storm)

taken

I. II.

"I was born in a thunderstorm..."

      like the storm, he wants to come and go. never staying in one place and out and about, finding; always searching.
    it might seem ironic really, wolves are supposed to be social creatures who thrives with the connections they have with their pack, but why is it that he feels little, to no connection to the people who he calls his family. having no sense of belonging in his own pack no matter how much he tries to connect. his very family made him feel like an outsider, an observer looking through the glass and watching this perfect little pack interact with one another seamlessly, like water to water, blending together and fitting perfectly. while he stays on the outside of their innermost circles, craning his neck and looking for a hole in the puddle, a way for him to get in and connect with them as well.

"I grew up overnight,"

     time flew by and he grew up and still, no opening was shown to him. the weird dark-furred son in a family of blues, he stands out no matter how much he tries to curl on himself and wishes himself to become smaller and get him away; away from the scrutinizing gazes of the people in their pack, with their different shades of blue. “never have i seen a water wolf with such deep-colored fur, is that child really one of our own?” the elders would usually say, clicking their tongues and shaking their heads in pity. “it’s midnight blue,” he would whisper under his breath, unable to correct them from their assumption as he hangs his head low and avoid the disappointed gaze of his father.

"I played alone, I'm playing on my own"

     they were not wrong apparently. born out of a tryst between his mother and an unknown earth wolf a few years back, he was a mistake. the day the truth was revealed was the day he lost his family and his pack. the day he personified his affinity and became like a storm, brewing and visiting different places, and like a devastation, he was avoided.

"and I survived."

     he lived as a rogue throughout his late teens, only managing to get by with scraps and pity-gifts his mother’s friends give him once in a while, and it was fine. he felt fine. he was free. no more gazes, no more heads shaking because of him. only him and the forest.

"I'm still breathing; I'm alive."

     once in a while, his mother would visit the little camp he made in an untouched territory, close to his family’s pack. always with tears in her eyes, she tells him how sorry she was that he has to endure this life. one day, it was different. she told him she found him a place, a place where he can stay and she introduced azrael prep.

 
 

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