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The sky was so blue that it sent a piercing chill through Woo-Moon’s eyes as he lay on a wide grass field. As the soft grass tickled his back, Woo-Moon raised his arms and blocked the sun's glare with one hand. He could feel the warm light and breeze gently pass between the fingers.
Then, he clenched his fist tightly, as if to catch the breeze.
Fist.
In the blink of an eye, he swiftly pulled his left fist back toward his chest as his right fist flew forward. He could feel a faint twinge in his elbow as his muscles tightened.
A smile appeared on Woo-Moon’s lips. He enjoyed how his body moved through the punch and his muscles shifted and swelled.
Both fists flew countless times toward an imaginary point in the air.
Once, twice… ten times… the sound of his clothes flapping and his fists splitting the air echoed endlessly.
Then, for a moment, his hands stopped in a seemingly awkward position, neither a clenched fist nor an open palm. It almost looked like he was imitating the grip of an animal.
Claw.
Unlike when he had thrown punches earlier, Woo-Moon didn’t stretch his arms out completely. This time, his hands didn’t move back and forth, but side to side and top to bottom. When he reached the perfect angle, his fingers seemed to grab at something fiercely, as if he wanted to crush an invisible object.
He clawed at the air for a bit until, suddenly, his hands stopped again....
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