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JEON JUNGKOOK :
The gates to the arena opened wide, Miss Leyem's footsteps in sync with those of the youngsters she was dragged inside, striding into the arena pushing a cart filled with trays of food. Children of all ages hurled themselves towards the food as soon as its presence was made known by the smell of it in their noses. They were only complaining about their dirty rags and how the Kingdom wouldn't provide much of it to them since eight months ago-the children forgot all their agonies when mentioning food. They were provided with two meals per day anyway, so the uprising hunger always roared in them.
Miss Leyem rolled her eyes whilst distributing the loaves of freshly baked bread, sometimes making ridiculous faces at the children biting on their pieces of bread so unevenly they almost seemed like hungry bears. She started protesting, "Children! Eat decently, what must we do if the King walks in?! Must he be disappointed by this ridicule you are pulling off-Mr. Kugarees, if you will eat properly!"
The little boy by the name summoned smiled through the huge chunk of bread in his mouth that he had been chewing on. He even dared to speak through his hasty eating, showing her his lopsided grin "Hello, Miss Leyem." He said, showing her lopsided grin.
"Oh, goodness," Miss Leyem shook her head. Her eyes skimmed the arena properly, addressing every kid's name to her lips as she checked on who went missing with the loaves of bread. Miss Leyem's hawk eyes once again ran across the room, piercing through each corner of the arena; from the unclean mattresses where the children resided to the upper decks, as if her eyes knew it's way towards her prey's location, "Is the upper deck empty? The seniors are to come down and take their meal!" She ordered strictly.
The upper deck was reserved for the older boys, in their mid to late teens, while the lower deck was for the younger ones in their early teens. Most of the time the older boys would gather around in the lower area of the arena's shelter. Once each boy was at an age to be trained as a soldier he would be moved to live with the boys already in training on the upper deck, as to leave more space for newcomers in the lower deck. That was simply how the Kingdom of Zisk sorted the males who were dragged to their lands after stealing wards from needful families after invading their hometowns. The families were given only two choices; surrender their boys or die, which in the end was no choice at all.
When the woman realized her quarry was out of hands once again, she yelled at the guards on the top of her lungs like always, "He is gone again! Get him!"
Toppling over carts of fresh greens and fruits from one side of the market to the other, the harried boy in his early twenties sprinted through on his horse like a blizzard in winter. The women behind their stalls shrieked and cursed, raged eyes and running mouths at the boy. He carelessly rode and rode through the market like he wouldn't be punished if he got caught; as if this was under his territory or he owned the Kingdom markets. Not too soon, the lad with the brown strokes had himself a group of soldiers chasing him the royal horses. He cursed, making the horse he stole from the stable an hour ago with a lot of preparation for escaping gallop faster, "Come on, boy, get me outta here,"
