Boundless

Of Pleasure and Puzzles

Waiting by the recovery ward entrance, Lar'jar looked somber and pensive, which added a haunting twist to his overall appearance.

The Medic was sporting the regular net and loincloth like so many other Yautjas of his clan. But you see, Lar'jar was patternless. And mostly black.

Like most Yautjas, Lar'jar's and Ah'kaedh's chest, abdomen, and the inner parts of his limbs were of a lighter color. But not by much.

Decades ago, the fast way to tell the siblings apart were the eyes. Magma red and bright yellow.

Both siblings inherited the black scales of their mother's side, covering their backs, limbs, neck and head. A gunmetal shade covered the rest. And due to the color contrast, their fangs and tusks seemed even scarier.

Attractive? In an exotic way.

They were tall for males, well built and muscular, but the patternless body? Not the norm. And any superstitious individual would probably feel like flirting with a version of Death Himself.

Before the intense red of Ah'kaedh's eyes found the bright yellow of Lar'jar's, the Enforcer noticed people were avoiding looking at his sibling.

(Ah'kaedh's metallic arm made people forget some of that superstitious nonsense around him. It didn't make much difference, though, since the Enforcer distaste for social interaction only increased after the amputation).

"Is Jakhar still there?" Ah'kaedh had no time to waste with greetings.

Lar'jar nodded gravely, showing some signs of temper. "I would recommend waiting".

"Waiting?" The Enforcer repeated the world slowly, enunciating each syllable like a curse.

"Fer-de-Lance asked our Elder to send me away, to avoid any fight among us", the older sibling stared at him. That had the desired effect of not only getting his brother attention, but also shocking him some.

"She asked what?" The Enforcer scrunched his face.

"You heard me", Lar'jar looked away, crossing his arms tightly in front of his chest.

***

Centuries old. Fucking centuries old. All that experience and Lar'jar didn't see that one coming.

Once Jakhar dragged him out of the presence of the doulas, promising to consider, the Medic thought he would allow Elder to say his piece and attempt to convince him into agreeing with Adri'ja's sister's request.

Simply denying the Elder without hearing him first would do no good to his brother's cause.

"Take me to your brother's ooman", the Elder demanded.

Smart fucker, Lar'jar had no choice but comply. Jakhar knew both bother's well. Talking Lar'jar into taking in Adri'ja would not be possible and Ah'kaedh? He would not have agreed to take any pregnant female in the first place.

(And who could fault the Endorcer for that?)

Lance was the Elder's best chance. After seeing both together, it was more than clear that ooman had Ah'kaedh under a strong spell.

"That enforcer won't be happy about this", Lar'jar advised, guiding the Elder through the labyrinthine corridors of the recovery ward.

Jakhar chortled, his shoulder shaking. He was some inches shorter than the siblings but was still a large and tall specimen, with dark olive scales, long dark stripes that reached his creamy dorso. Jakhar had maroon eyes, with red accents, and his mane of tresses had once been jet black - some of his hair now displayed a medium shade of grey.