Nyell sent the saber tooth tiger flying with a roundabout kick. It crashed into a gigantic tree, its neck breaking from the impact.
"You alright?"
"Yeah," Isa answered, her cheeks beet-red from shame. "Thank you."
"Don't thank me. Next time, stay in the village," Nyell said with a smile that didn't quite reach his emerald eyes. "Don't you ever learn? Every time you sneak out, I have to rush over to save your neck. You're too young to venture outside alone, Isa."
"But that's not fair! The elders let you do whatever you wanted at my age. So why can't I?!"
"Because I'm a special case and you're not."
Isa opened her mouth to protest but ended up closing it without uttering a single word. She knew Nyell was right, even if she didn't admit it aloud.
As if reading her mind, Nyell rolled his eyes and crouched. "You're not weak per se, but the jungle is filled with predators. Even the best warriors of our tribe avoid fighting most of them when possible. I know you want to prove your worth, but battling beasts isn't the way to go."
The girl lowered her head, eying her twisted ankle. It had already started to turn purple. Nyell wasn't wrong. But as his sister, she had to be able to fight on her own. Otherwise, wouldn't she be a disgrace to their family? They were the chief's children. They had to be strong to protect their people; it was their duty to ensure no harm befell them.
"Come on, get on my back. Or do you want me to carry you princess-like?"
"I'd rather die!"
"Yes, yes," Nyell placated his sister before helping her climb onto his back. Then, a silence fell. It lasted for a couple of minutes before Isa muttered, "I heard we're going to meet that asshole today."
"Watch your tongue, young girl!"
"Oh? How about I repeat all the curses you uttered last night about that man? I thought my ears were going to fall off."
"Do what I say, not what I do. And don't you dare insult that bastard to his face. Father told us to be courteous. Well, as courteous as our tribe can be anyway."
"'Cause you think you'll be able to control yourself? You're the one who hates his guts the most. Even our father doesn't want to murder him as much as you do."
"Well, I'll roll my tongue seven times before speaking," Nyell shrugged. "Though, you know, meeting the chief of your mortal enemies is bound to cause sparkles to fly, and you better not expect me to smile."
"You're going a little far with mortal enemies. They're still our brethren, in a way."
"Oh, please. The fact that we're both werewolf tribes doesn't make us brethren. They've been a pain in the butt since immemorial times, and having to lower our heads to them for help is simply outrageous. Who knows? They may even be the cause behind the disappearances."
"Brother!"
"Sorry, just kidding. They're pricks, but they don't use underhanded methods like that, I know. I'm just pissed off."
Isa bit her lips but said nothing more. Nyell had been on the frontline of every conflict with the White Moon tribe these past few years, so he wasn't fond of them. Whenever they crossed paths, it always ended in bloodshed.
"You know what? I bet the White Moon tribe's chief is ugly like a monkey's ass," Nyell scoffed after a moment. "No, even a monkey's ass must be prettier than him."
"Are you perhaps describing your future mate?" Isa teased. "I didn't know you had such taste, brother."
"Look, I wouldn't mate with someone this ugly. Even if it's my destined mate, I'd turn on my heel and run away. I have standards!"
"They say you can't resist your destined mate, though. Like, the attraction is so strong your body acts on its own! Aaaah, I wonder if I'll ever get to meet mine."
"I swear you girls are so drawn to this destined mate stuff. It's weird."
"Men don't understand romance!"
That being said, Isa proceeded to explain to her brother what romance was and how romantic destined mates were. Two people made for each other who knew the moment they met they were meant to be together, how could it not be romantic? But if you asked Nyell, he'd say it was bullcrap. He much preferred choosing his mate himself than following whatever destiny had in store for him.
.
.
After dropping his injured sister at the shaman's hut, Nyell went to meet his father. On his way, he learned that the White Moon tribe had arrived a moment ago and felt the urge to spin on his heels and venture back into the jungle.
He really, really didn't want to meet the darned chief of the White Moon tribe. He had been joking with his sister earlier, but he honestly didn't know whether he could keep his mouth shut or not. He had so much to say.
But at the end of the day, Nyell couldn't bail out. He was the chief's son, so he had to participate in the negotiation.
He took a deep breath and entered his father's hut, forgetting to knock. He wasn't the polite kind. No one was polite in their tribe, doing whatever they wanted whenever they wanted.
"I'm sorry for being late, I had something to–"
Nyell couldn't finish his sentence. His eyes fell upon a man sitting on the saber tooth tiger fur on the ground, just before his father. He was framed by a man and a woman, but their faces were a blur in Nyell's eyes. All his attention was focused on the man between them.
He had long blond hair that bordered on white, hints of silver dancing atop the crown of his head. His eyes were pale blue with streaks of red, and his skin was fair like porcelain. He was the opposite of Nyell, whose hair was charcoal black and whose skin was chocolate, tanned by the sun.
But the man's beauty wasn't why Nyell froze. No, it was because of the violent feeling tearing his guts apart at the man's sight. He felt his canines grow and his pupils dilate, while his skin felt set ablaze. He brought his hand to his mouth, trying to calm his breathing. His whole body had become weird in a heartbeat.
'Oh fuck no, you have to be kidding me.'
"Well," the man said, eying Nyell from the corner of his eyes before staring at Corriel, the Black Moon tribe's chief. An indolent smile stretched his lips as he pronounced every syllable clearly, "If you're not comfortable with the previous terms, I can change them. You can always give me your son instead of submitting your authority to me. Do that, and we'll lend you a hand."
"…You piece of shit!"
Nyell burst out, throwing a punch toward the man's face. So what if the bastard was his destined mate? He deserved a beating.