Lord Of The Wolves

Looking Far Ahead, At The Edge Of Our Tomorrow

When Jungkook was six years old, he had the habit of doodling on the dried, blistering walls of their Pack Master's humble resting site. His little fingers padded on every inch of the portrait planks, marks of looped thumbs and unclipped nails carving details of little Jungkook's fantasies. They range from a variety of horned monsters and winged creatures, the most recent more colourful than the last.

Most of the sketches drool heavily with ink, permanent hues melting under the scolding gaze of the elderly. But no one could deny Jungkook's pleading eyes, cheeks tinted to a terrifyingly convincing degree that the pack could only coo and bat their lashes. They cannot be judged for it, the heavens realise, as such a wondrous child gave them only the happiest encouragement. And it certainly helped that Jungkook was the youngest, fawned over by every member of the large household.

The boy was spoiled with endearments. Jungkook is smothered with sweet, unadulterated care  – showered with loving attention and fond looks that seem to pin him down at the slightest risk of bruising himself. Because no one wishes pain upon the master's son. The last time it happened, the whole pack rallied against a spiky fence with their lit pitchforks and bushy brows, a teary-eyed Jungkook watching carefully with wide, questioning eyes.

Most of what little Jungkook could remember was their blithe and cheery presence– poured over with warm memories and whispered comforts. Every day of the week consist of a mundane and lighthearted routine. Where the Saturdays are spent with Jungkook drawing on the cottage walls while amused aunts and uncles write atop each drawings with a scribble of their own. 

And Sundays turn into picnic events, leaving Jungkook plenty of time to dawdle and giggle with the older children, playing house and braiding young maidens' tresses. They crowd over the boy, cuddling him in an overbearing fashion until he into a whining bunny, teeth bared angrily to protest against all the attention. His pout is always ignored, as they take turns squishing his cheeks and pinching his sides – mouth only capable of chuckling and awing.

There's much to say about the boy's humdrum of a life, dipped with saccharine melodies to lull him at night and accompanied by listless mornings – sunny days spent sniffing the pervasive fragrance of unending beds of sunflowers and roses and tangled vines. No matter the weather, Jungkook was never left alone, never seen without a trace of a hovering figure beside or behind him. 

Family. Jugkook learned how valuable the word was at a very young age. And no matter how swollen his cheeks were with all their nagging adoration, or how bloated his tummy was with every meal insisted upon him–Jungkook finds that he doesn't mind such minor inconveniences. Not when he knows how sincere each gesture meant. Not when it's all his drawings portrayed, etched in wooden canvases and bound by rugged twines. 

It's not an exaggeration to say the place was meant to gleam with fairylike wonder. Warm tones and swirling cottons mounted liked sea-crests across a blue sky. All of which Jungkook finds to be wondrously normal.

But the diffident surrounding surely makes up for the Jeon pack's curt and modest aphorism: no lonely man can make an island on his own – not one to wallow in the pitiless lure of golden crowns and walloping castle gates (spiked and stationed before the dotted view of entranced crowds). 

Master Jeon himself has grown accustomed to the placid ambience of their country-like residence, a leader who dwells solely in the principles of peacemaking and humble living. And it makes Jungkook and the rest of the pack feel an innate inclination to be just as pacified and restful, to avoid perils if needed be and dodge away from possible fracases.

For the pack it was all about unity – for little Jungkook, it was simply home. Just like the heavens he sleepily gazes at every peek of the sunrise, the backdrop he throws his wishes at before bedtime – windows open to the looming trails of glinting stars above.