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Neteyam Sully, respectfully, was the golden child. The one who could do no wrong.
Lo'ak Sully, on the other hand, was on the opposite end of that table. He was chaotic, rogue, and off-leash. Everything about him was to uproot his brother, to make his father notice him, albeit for the wrong reasons. And this often led to Neteyam taking the blame for his younger brother's actions.
It became a habit. Lo'ak finds trouble, Neteyam is dragged along and the two of them end up with injuries. Well, that was the reason for the current situation that they were in.
Neteyam stood beside his brother, Lo'ak looking shamefully down at the ground as Jake had his arms crossed. The Toruk Makto let out a frustrated sigh at both his sons' antics, gazing over their wounds.
Thankfully, it was nothing too serious, mainly scratches that bled a little along with bruises that could easily be healed with some salves.
Jake let out another huff as he pointed a finger at his younger son, Lo'ak's gaze snapping up to meet his dad's while Neteyam watched in silence.
"You are both grounded, no more flying off on your ikran without my permission for a week," Jake huffed. "Neteyam, take Lo'ak to Mo'at so that she can heal the both of you. Have I made myself clear?"
"Yes, sir," Neteyam responded clearly enough for his father to understand.
Lo'ak muttered under his breath and Neteyam elbowed his brother in a way that told him to keep his mouth shut. Jake's eyes widened at his son's defiance.
"I said, have I made myself clear?" Jake gave Lo'ak a stern look and Neteyam bit the inside of his cheek nervously.
"Yes, sir," Lo'ak strained out.
"Good. Now get yourselves patched up."
With that, Lo'ak stormed out with Neteyam trailing behind him. But before the eldest son could leave, Jake placed his hand on his shoulder.
"Keep an eye out so that your brother doesn't cause more trouble," Jake sighed. "And I think you might want to get familiar with the other healers. Just in case, for future purposes."
