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THE PACK THEY MADE-000

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THE PACK THEY MADE-000

Year 1999

age 10

The sound of children's footsteps running through the street of their small town in Sokvia. Three young children were chasing each other, their laughter echoing through the air even through the mists of war. A woman of twenty-eight stood against the side of their home, watching her children play together. Life was perfect for this little family of five, nothing could ever change that except for what was about to happen in three hours.

"Wanda, Peitro, Olivet, it's time to come in," The woman called out to her children. "Papa will be home soon,"

Her three children ran toward her, each other them having a grin on their faces. The youngest out of the three was her only son, Peitro Maximoff, who grabbed her hand and smiled up at her. His ocean-blue eyes sparkled at her as his sisters hurried into the house.

"Can we watch the show tonight, mama?" Peitro asked as they walked into their apartment.

Iryna nodded, ushering in her son before closing the door. "Yes, but it's Wanda's turn to pick."

Peitro sighed as he walked over to his oldest sister. "But Wanda always gets to pick,"

"Nie, nemá! Vy áno!" The middle of Iryan's children exclaimed. (No, she doesn't! You do!)

"Olivet, English, please." Her mother says though it wasn't scolding.

Olivet Maximoff looked at her mother, sheepishly. "Sorry, mama."

Wanda and Pietro hurried into their room, while their mother started cooking dinner. An hour later, the door opened revealing their father, Oleg Maximoff, carrying serval bags. Their mother hurried over to him, greeting him in their native language. "Ó, môj miláčik!" (Oh, my darling!) Iran took one of the bags out of her husband's hands and placed it on the couch. She opened it revealing cases of videotapes.

"Oleg..." She muttered, as Olivet came over and leaned over the couch.

"Nebojte sa, zajtra ich všetky predám," Oleg says, crouching down in front of his wife. "Viac pre TV večer!" (Don't worry, I'll sell them all tomorrow, More for TV night)

The man pulled his wife closer to him, wrapping his arms around her waist, and kissed her lips. They pulled away when their daughter said. "Ew, papa! Žiadne bozkávanie!" (No kissing)

Oleg chuckled, walking around the couch and picking up his daughter. "No kissing, huh?"

"No, papa! No." Olivet giggled as she squirmed in her father's arms. The man pressed multiple kisses on her cheeks. "Už žiadne bozky!" (No more kisses)

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