Lord Of The Wolves

The House That Lies Ahead

Park Jimin could barely form a coherent sentence at the age of five before Kim Taehyung concluded his first three pages worth of doodled artworks (to which the Pack Master proclaims as a masterpiece) as provocation towards the incoming stride of surrealist painters in the world of artistry - a month younger, but at five nonetheless.

It's not quite a race, the five-year old reassures -and yet in between the underlying tones used by the elders and the pitiful glances sent his way... he knows that there truly exists a competition between the two of them. Their differences vary in quite a few shades that no one could simply deny the immense urge to compare the two.

It's fascinating, really, that while two ten year-olds waddled their wobbly feet on the pack's main house (barely an inch away from smacking lips to punching guts) dreamily building castles out of wooden blocks, the elders were already lining up behind their meek, little shoulders.

They whisper about their own inference; one surmises of Kim Taehyung's talent in the field of craftsmaking for his undeniable ingenuity, but the other interjects and claims Park Jimin's well-rounded charisma would make a better advantage for political affairs. Yet, Taehyung's loyal devotees would argue that his artistic disposition would prove him to be just as capable in the coming future. Surely, with his innovative inclinations, he would lead a nation in the most unlikely yet wondrous way. Jimin, as the others digress, is levelheaded in a manner that Taehyung fails to be.

While both lived on their emotions as their primal instincts, Taehyung had an inclination to lash out as he pleased, to grumble even as elders smother him with affection and to disagree if deemed necessary. Jimin, however, knew his ways around the art of socialising and the deceitful manner that must be instilled in every interaction. It's almost frightful, really - how well he could manipulate people with his chubby cheeks and guileless (as guileless as they can truly be) eyes.

The elders could go on and on, posing arguments as to why this child was better than the other, placing bricks on both children. Their backs slouch, weighing expectations after expectations.

In the end, what is left for both children to enjoy relied greatly on who could prove their superiority over the other.

-

"They're competing again." Seokjin whines in exasperation, head tilted to loud ruckus from above the kitchen.

"You'll get used to it." Lilliana offers as comfort.

Thirteen year old Seokjin grumbles as he washes the peeled potatoes, eyes scanning over every grime. He huffs, fingers sore, "I've lived with them my whole life and I never got used to it."

Lilliana only chuckles when the yelling from above turned into a stomping match. Seokjin prays for the safety of their bedsheets, having been victimised enough by the children's untimely scuffles.

"What if they never stop fighting?" The boy asks.

The woman quells suddenly, picking up on the concern laced within the boy's tone.

"Then you better make sure they do."

"What if I can't?"

"Let them be," Lilliana responds as she passes by an island. Her voice is sure, coupled only by faint grunts as she rummages through the cupboards. "You're only responsible for them until they're old enough to fend for themselves, anyway."

There's a crease in Seokjin's face as he replies, "Who says I'm responsible for them in the first place?"

Lilliana only hums, mindlessly gazing over cans and labels before reaching for her intended ingredient. "For one, you're older."