Lord Of The Wolves

Even the Fool Knows Worries Cannot Dissipate on Their Own

A massive land lies before two slouching figures. From where they sat a meadow peeks, swaying through the winds with its lush reeds and green ground. The grasses seem to crash into the peering boulders, some moss splattered over the hardened texture. Golden leaves rustle from afar and often, the parched barks whine about the unwavering heat. The sun stands proudly across the sky, with it's massive size it looked like it was only several handbreadths away from the shadowed mountain peaks.

Hoseok marvels at the sight, bony arms grasping tightly around the iron railings. His bare feet slaps the parapet, bricks thrumming to the rhythm of a melody he so mindlessly hums. Namjoon stands from behind, arms crossed laid atop the the same foundation.

They are silent, inviting the twittering of birds and chirping of cicadas. In their absent pondering, Hoseok stumbles upon a rare view. He pauses his melodious song and gazes at the parted clouds, a sparse length of ray shining through.

It leads him to a barren land, clouded with silver shades. It's not the land itself that is foreign to him, but rather the rare occurrence to which he is able to sight the visibility of the field. He regards it with disappointment, saddened by the sight of an empty, lonesome place - only basking in the warmth of good days (and even that comes in rarity). Still, Hoseok blesses it a prayer of his own.

"The sun will shine on it one day," The pack master once said, "and by then that land is ours."

Hoseok doesn't believe so. Frankly, he finds the thought too ambitious. He considers their small number of buzzing folks and creaking doorsteps, almost laughs at the sight of their dingy courtyard and thinks that they would never stand a chance against larger kingdoms. But despite the uncertainty, the boy finds himself hoping, wishing. Perhaps his pack-master's words may bear something great in the future. And if it does, Hoseok for sure will hail whatever the once bare land will transcend into.

For now, Hoseok can only stare longingly, engrossed as to what the outskirts of the forest may suggest as enjoyment.

"They're taking too long." Namjoon comments.

"Seems like it." Hoseok drones idly. He peers behind the boy, only to be met with the shadows of twigs and dry leaves. He finally realizes they have only been accompanying each other the whole time, the rushing winds passing by each long minute. Hoseok finds the idea unwelcoming, feeling incomplete with just the two of them.

The boy sighs and shrugs his shoulders, "Must be because of Jimin or Taehyung. I put my bets on Jimin this time though."

Namjoon sends him a questioning look, mortified as to what the implications meant. As trivial as the trouble may be, for sure with either of the boys' participation, things could go south.

"Jimin doesn't like the new kid," Hoseok responds. "I always hear him cursing the poor boy -ah, the woes of being roommates."

"We're all roommates." Namjoon corrects.

"Yeah, but at least your bed's nowhere near that heathen's sheets."

"Hey, I've had my fair share of troubles too." The other boy frowns. "My bed is next to Taehyung's, remember?"

"He's better than Jimin." Hoseok says, swinging his feet above the air. He almost stumbles forward, yelping lightly as Namjoon clings on his waist. The younger heaves him up to a wider space, cradling him close to his chest. With a cheeky smile and a heartfelt thanks, Hoseok manages to pave off his brother's reprimanding mumbles.

A moment later, Namjoon rebuts again, "Taehyung snores. A lot."

They cackle together, letting the festive mood bloom through the air. The boys sigh about their younger brothers, paving off the shrouding worry that loomed behind their shoulders. They're all kids, soon the childish games would dwindle and morph into a rougher path. They'll tread to adulthood like newborn cubs, until all their misgivings dissipate. Or at least that is what Hoseok prays for. But he wishes that time would be more complacent with them until then.