do wanderers frighten you ?
there is a howling in his head. persistent. enduring. high and haunting as it sinks its claws into fragile pinna and cochlea. a ghastly, tenaciously immutable thing that echoes through empty city streets; bouncing against freshly fallen concrete and resonating with his brother's bitten off screams.
it lingers, even as time's vast ocean swallows the years in its watery maw. whispering in the corners of his night-darkened bedroom, buzzing through hellishly florescent corporate meeting rooms, sighing a the sun begins another descent.
and yet —
"frighten?" jung haejin carefully sets the cup in his hand back to its saucer with a faint clink. he looks to the distance, eyes tracing impossible colors and the secrets they tell.
"no."
his voice is firm, unwavering, studying the face of the person across from him.
"they are pests that hunters have a duty to dispose of."
