Goodnight, Mr. Wolf

Aria was caged in the library. "You shouldn't stay in such a dusty place," said Siegfried, not coming out in the morning. Move to the library faster than the rooster sounds and rely on the lamp lights to silently read the book.

"Lust and cruelty. He who devours all things because of greed, and does all that is abusive. Whether it be the bone meat that divides the metaphorical blood, he that tears it with his teeth shall also be despicable.

I follow a passage of an old book with my fingers and rebel over and over again.

"Black Beast......"

Some of the old books left in the library sometimes contain the words. fierce, barbaric, without blood or tears. Black beast that lives by instinct alone. Wolf Beast Man. A race with a body like a man and a wolf multiplied together, and scattered all the way inside to the rest of the species. That they were among the most ferocious of the species known as the Beast Man, they said, began to gain a serene life while decreasing their numbers and diluting their blood as the times changed.

Where and how they live now - I haven't found the book it says yet. Only old books are written about black beasts, and the word black beasts was not used anywhere in the new books. Their message of a plump interruption. If you intentionally tried to hide an abominable past, it's terribly easy to speculate that their descendants are werewolves.

"There's a black beast... ancestors of the werewolves... really?

If so, is that beast that you can occasionally glimpse inside Siegfried the remnants of a "black beast"? Is the "black beast" in him peeking into his face?

I remember Siegfried like a black beast I saw in my inn on my journey. In a room lacking in lights, he dropped a black shadow and devoured Aria's body like a beast. No matter how "painful," he cried "stop," he was penetrated relentlessly. That figure, which is the opposite of the usual him, certainly resembles the "Wolf Beast Man" described in the literature.

"But..."

But maybe not. Aria has yet to find any literature describing the ancestors of the werewolves as being werewolf beasts. There is hope.

'Cause otherwise, Siegfried can't be happy. "Wolf beasts can't contain their instincts. Even if it's in you - no, it's in you that I find pleasure in ripping that body apart and bleeding. That's how we've reduced the number of species. It doesn't suit him nicely.

What suits him is a gentle face with a slightly lower brow and a laugh. Shine silver hair and golden eyes in the sun, surrounded by lots of flowers and lost beasts. Spread the sandwiches and treats you have divided in the dining room over the rug and enjoy a peaceful time with the warm tea. I want to end that boring way of life for you to just spend your days smoking through the flames in a dim room.

That's why Aria is looking. I've been searching forever for proof that he'll be happy.

He read and fished the book indifferently and, if he noticed, was asleep. I was sticking my cheeks up in a dusty book and dreaming. I found that to be my dream, because there was Siegfried. It wasn't him with his usual back brow, covered in white fur, because he was lonely and distracted by his golden eyes.

Ask what makes you so sad and what you couldn't ask that day. The white beast answered nothing and was rocking the red piercing. Because those eyes bring so much sad light, I hug them to the fur of a fluff and bury my face in my neck muscle.

He does not try to touch Aria from himself, wearing the smell of a thick beast. I try to hide my sharp nails and fangs as if I were afraid of hurting them.

I want to tell him that I'm not afraid of anything, and that's not how I get hurt, but my fingertips that I tried to touch my fangs are rejected. I turn away, I turn away, I close my heart.

I didn't know what to do, I just told him I liked the word. I whispered over and over that you liked it and noticed the white fur was wet. Trying to tell me not to cry, I finally realized that I was the one in tears.

My sleepless body was shaking every bit. Shaken by warm arms, carried. I've already remembered this temperature. I don't want to let go of my happy moments helplessly, and I still pretend not to wake up and bury my face in a thick chest plate.

"Aria... are you awake?

Awkward lies are quickly dispersed and blamed with a gentle voice. Siegfried lowered his brow and laughed as he rubbed his soggy eyes up. Aria's favorite, gentle grin.

"You can't sleep in that place. Bad for your health."

"Excuse me......"

"You haven't even had dinner, have you? Wanna go to the dining room?

Think a little and then shake your head. I do have something hungry, but I want more than anything that fills my stomach. With what I wanted most so close, I didn't feel like letting go easily. Siegfried clenches the chest of a dark blue jacket with feathers and blinks quietly.

"Dear Sieg, my name......"

"Name?"

"Chronia is my mother's last name. So officially, we're going to name Aria Cronia Philippe."

"Aria got a name from both your father and your mother."

Siegfried laughed, so Aria smiled without saying anything either. It wasn't until Aria decided to get engaged to Siegfried that she could name Philip's last name. Because I was told that even though I would marry another country, the surnames of other people alone would be irrelevant. Those who did not allow me to name my father's surname tried to take the surname that my mother gave me as "unholy".

It was probably my father or Bruno who went by wanting to name two surnames. Or because the authoritative queen lost interest in the little girl who soon left the country -.

Either way, it's something I didn't get when I gave up then. If you have something you want, don't give up. No matter how thin your hopes are, no matter how much you end up knowing the scary truth that awaits you ahead - don't let go of your hopes from yourself.

I saw my mother hanging from a tree under a beautiful clear sky. I don't know if it was really the wind that was shaking my mother's dress then. Because I was afraid to make sure, and I turned away.

I sat down on the side of my rocking skirt and spread the book, pretending I didn't know anything. He blamed his mother's weakness in his heart as he awkwardly read out happy stories made of lies. He put his weakness on the shelf and blamed only my mother.

I wanted to be strong. I thought I wanted strength enough to forgive my mother. Good luck, you said good luck - I hate my weak self because I'm okay with one, and I can't even give you that word after.

"Aria? You still want to sleep?

"Just a little..."

I'm not sure I'm laughing properly and rub it against Siegfried's chest to hide my face. I could see that I could put my strength into the arms that supported my body, and I meditated my eyes with confidence. Don't dream sadly, just listen to a powerful heartbeat.

That day, in front of my mother's grave. Aria still cannot forgive herself for how she could only leave herself on her own and stuffing herself.