House Rh'thaou: the jungle

the continuing stories of the Taratus Clan
by Neishai

• • •

In the air there permeated a thick, sweet, nauseating stench. For those not native to the rainforest, an environment whose local flora created its own weather system, namely windless, hot rain, the smell was stifling. A fine mist, the mossy, heady breath of many trees, coated everything, deepening the color of foliage with a silky kiss. To look up toward the canopy was to look at the undersides of many lime-green umbrellas, so closely assembled as to form a new hue: forest green. Somehow when looking at it from an ant's-eye view, the color was given a whole new meaning, something more three-dimensional.

Suddenly a bush whose leaves dwarfed even the largest of lily pads shook with the sound of a sneeze. Silence in a world alive with noise -- crooning and clattering birds, calling monkeys, buzzing and chittering insects, dripping water, the soft hiss of reptilian skin against bark and wet fungus -- was so instantaneous as to blot out all reality.

A response in the form of glaring golden eyes was accompanied by a deep rumbling growl.

"S...sorry," came the apology, barely above a whisper.

I will forgive you this mistake, Sieban.

Subtly, the bush's large leaves waved in response to horns barely visible, its movement revealing tall, dark-grey, corkscrew-curved horns that spiraled above a narrow black-and-white head. The antelope's eyes, framed in white, seemed genuinely regretful, shamed and submissive, and above all, afraid.

That head belonged to a creature who was by nature far from submissive. He was hotheaded and bold normally, but held close to his heart enough fear and respect for his alphas to tread carefully. He was a handful for them, but an excellent warrior, quick on his feet and strong.

Those predatory golden eyes regarded him for an instant longer before returning forward; the huge leaves shivered almost imperceptibly with a sigh of intense relief.

Erloch, do you smell that?

The addressee searched the greenery ahead, spotting the cloud-and-rust fur of his sister with little trouble. She was looking at him with her striking blue eyes and when their gazes met she nodded, beckoning him to approach. The others in their band stayed behind, some remaining perfectly hidden, others pointedly making themselves visible to him out of respect. It was an unnecessary courtesy for with his sensitive, brick-colored nose he could smell everyone distinctly, and knew from that where an individual was.

There were his warriors, precious few at the moment; to their disappointment he and his sister had only been able to rescue two in fact, the elephant-shifter and the blackbuck-shifter whose noise he had reprimanded only moments ago. Both (currently in their tarat, or half animal, forms out of necessity), he could trust with his life of course, of which he had made certain of. Individually, their varying codes of honor demanded absolute loyalty to their benefactor.

The other three were his in every respect; he owned them -- body, mind, and soul. And if there became a discrepancy, he would be sure to crush it as soon as the issue arose. There were three females total in this subgroup: an African hunting dog (also known as an African wild dog), an ostrich, and a springbok (another type of gazelle), shifters all. The first was the last pathetic remnant of her House, owing him everything for saving it from extinction, for all the good that would do. The other two were classified as food animals by his breed, which in itself gave him much relished power. In their timidity, the fact that he not only spared but also cared for them landed them in his debt. They all owed their relative freedom to him, and of course, his sister. But they're mine, he told himself, just as the warriors are mine.

The siblings simply owned them -- all of them -- in different ways.

As Erloch approached, he brushed his shoulder against hers in subtle greeting.

Do you smell it? she repeated.

Frowning, the dark tiger-shifter sniffed the stagnant air, a thin gap opening between upper teeth and lower lip. Ahh, he sighed in her mind, vocalizing the discovery with a quiet, deep-seated growl. But it is not Shainon…similar but different. Continuing to study the subtle yet distinct smell, he cocked his head in query. A House member perhaps, a close friend that would carry his scent?

No, his sister replied, I do not think so. Members of our own house do not smell like us. They carry our scent but they have their own distinct, underlying scent. They are not like this. I think this is…

…Family, Erloch finished for her. How fortunate that we found it first. My dear Caoiloch, you are amazing, he purred, glancing at her briefly, a grin flickering across his features. The smell of fear is thick about this one. Let's make its last moments exquisite agony.

Caoiloch smirked, flicking her tail in a signal understood by the others to follow.

• • •

The siblings were the first to investigate the tiny clearing consisting of packed earth and moss in the lee of a massive old tree whose roots created a hollow with a "ceiling" about three feet off the ground. The spotted creature cradled in its shadow was hidden from rainfall, but not from view, at Caoiloch's angle.

Where is the little bastard, Erloch snarled in her mind. I can practically taste its disgusting fear. Above their heads, the heavily muscled tiger-shifter moved with amazing softness and care, mindful that at any moment a group of guerillas could come bounding through the underbrush, machineguns spewing forth their precipitous death.

Calm yourself, dear brother. He is right below you, under the tree. Frowning, she studied the young shifter, then stayed her brother with a gesture as a malicious grin spread across his face. Wait. Something is not quite right here.

You're damned right it isn't. It's still alive!

Eri--

She's right sire, the dark-coated antelope said, taking advantage of the pause interject. He and the others had to inched forth to effectively surround their enemy. He is not with his House. Where are the others?

Beside him, one of Erloch's girls, the small gazelle, crouched, large eyes narrowing pensively. He is not a jaguar. Her trembling mental-voice was almost relieved: He is a cheetah-tarat.

The blackbuck Sieban gazed down at her, instinctively positioning himself more protectively despite her revelation.

Lost in her own thoughts, she did not even notice. If he were not one of them…I think I might even feel sorry for him, she thought to herself, using the pronoun as a profanity. Lady Caoiloch, he is only a child … I mean…

To Caoiloch, Sylnes the springbok was little more than a child herself, but she said nothing. This was not the time to quibble. Careful study of the younger feline shifter revealed more important details. He was curled up in a fetal ball, extremely long tail curled up his front and around the back of his shoulder, only the top half of his head visible behind the flag-like white tip. There under his eye, the tail fur was moist, which she had not noticed before due to the nature of this accursed jungle. Who would believe that his tear-tracks, the black markings that run down a cheetah's face from eye to chin, actually glistened with tears!

You are right, Sylnes, she finally replied with mild surprise. While the girl smiled, pleased to be the recipient of such rare praise, Caoiloch turned her focus back to her brother who crouched, powerful muscles poised to leap from tree branch to forest floor. Erloch, we could use this boy against them. Let me try.

And if the effort proves fruitless, we can kill him, Sieban interjected lustily, equally keen on seeing the blood of an enemy spilled.

Yes… Erloch mused, relaxing imperceptibly on his perch. Finally he waved one clawed hand lazily, the other still held firmly a tree branch. Knock yourself out, sis. Everyone else, fan out. Let nothing breach our perimeter. Gaeval, you watch out for her from a good vantage point … ah, there you are. Mmm yes, right up here with me --

Erloch paused momentarily as a pair of arms appeared from out of a curtain of green and encircled him, fingers sliding down his belly. Caoiloch rolled her eyes, disgusted by Gaeval's lack of discretion. Sieban mustered all the modesty he possessed and averted his gaze, blood boiling; he glanced at Sylnes and she turned away, blushing furiously. A few moments later, Erloch finally continued his instructions, albeit a little distractedly, -- yes, you can um, jump on the little twit if it tries anything...

But Erloch, why can't I stay here and protect Caoiloch? Sieban began, hastily forgetting himself in an unconscious attempt to assert his prowess in front of Sylnes. It unfortunately went unnoticed as the gazelle-tarat had already moved away to be comforted by the third girl in Erloch's harem, Caran, as they fanned out to do their Alphas' bidding. He had almost stepped out into the clearing as he beseeched his leader.

Abruptly, Gaeval's administrations were forgotten as Erloch glared murderously at Sieban. The dog-shifter could be seen peeking down at them, her marbled face wearing an expression of sly curiosity. You forget yourself, Raban, the Alpha tiger growled menacingly, using his subordinate's family name to emphasize his ire. Do not force me to remind you of your place.

Beneath blackish fur Sieban blanched, then he bowed his head and slowly, silently, he backed away. Under Erloch's gaze a proud young warrior could be reduced to cowering. No…that won't be necessary. I remember.

Good.

• • •

Why do you always do that stuff, Sieban?

Yes, I'm a moron, so why don't we all just rub it in! Look Ma, the salt makes him bleed! Let's go get him some more! Sieban snarled under his breath. It was an eerie sound coming from the throat of a gazelle.

The ostrich-shifter, currently in human form, cringed where she crouched on watch, in a different area altogether from Sieban. Nevertheless, he felt it in his mind as smartly as if she had slapped him in the face. I'm sorry, Sieban…

Sieban sighed. It's okay, Caran. I don't know why I do stuff like that. I can't help it sometimes.

I know why he does it, another shifter, the elephant, thought to himself. He had so far remained silent unless his duties required it, reporting details and the like, which was typical of him. He enjoyed fighting and guerilla warfare about as much as he enjoyed falling on a nest of fire ants. He was a lover not a fighter, as the saying goes, but battle was a fact of life, a fact of their life anyway, and like Sieban he had become a seasoned warrior.

Necessity and his prowess in battle did not change his sensitive nature. He was a lot like the girls of Erloch's harem, doing what he must, hoping that someday they would be free to live in peace. In the meantime he often watched those around him with quiet compassion, knowing each and every one almost as keenly as they knew themselves. And he knew Sieban. He knew that the horned warrior was short-tempered and a poor planner, but these qualities were always amplified whenever she was nearby.

Sylnes, are you all right? he asked the girl.

There was a second or two of hesitation, as if she was preoccupied with an obstacle in her path such as a fallen log, or perhaps merely gathering her thoughts. Yes, thank you Tyrach, I am fine. That boy…it's just that…I know he's the enemy, but he looks so afraid…

Tyrach smiled to himself. Though a distance separated them, he could feel her compassion as if she were physically embracing him. And you can relate to that. He's scared and lost and completely alone in the world. We've all been there, Syl. Perhaps…perhaps he will join us. It sounded as if Caoiloch might try to recruit him. It isn't the first time something like that has happened.

Yeah… Syl smiled, chuckling to herself ever so softly. She took strength in the elephant-tarat's words as always. He had that way about him. Tyrach? Thank you, she told him, conveying those sentiments as best she could.

Any time, my dear.

• • •

Caoiloch glanced up at the limbs of the old tree. Her brother had already left, leaving the two women to deal with the 'brat.' Gaeval smirked, giving her a thumbs-up before settling in to keep watch, her large round ears swiveling with keen alertness. Sieban is not the only one who needs reminding of his place in the world, she thought. Growling softly to herself, she smiled grimly to the dog-shifter and tossed her hair behind her as she broke free of the underbrush.

• • •

It's not the best hiding place in the world but it's better than nothing ... better than being out in the open, risking being seen and shot. The thought of machinegun-fire sent a spasmodic shudder tripping down the young cheetah-shifter's spine. He didn't understand what had happened to him, didn't know where he fit into all of this mess. But here I am, wading through a shitload of trouble...in the middle of the Amazon or something. Somehow he felt as if it all traced back to his brother, Shane, but like everything else, he didn't know how.

All he knew was that he was somewhere in the jungle, lost, alone, and stuck in the form of some horrible human-cat. He had no idea how to turn back, and was so freaking scared he'd probably have peed his pants if he were younger ... though if he heard any more machineguns go off in his ear he probably would anyway.

Initially, he'd hoped he could hide until those guerillas passed him by. He hoped that would happen, but who knew? He'd intended to move on after that, though he had no idea where; he could be ten feet or ten miles from the huge compound where they had been messing with people's genes and he wouldn't know it. But the longer he had stayed under the tree, the more he had taken notice of the sounds and the smells of the jungle around him. His surroundings confused him because he simply wasn't used to such heightened abilities. He had this new, odd but powerful speed that off-balanced him as he ran between the trees. The stronger sounds and smells painted a picture in his mind of creatures, gunpowder, smoke and all kinds of things he couldn't identify, and all of it terrified him.

I guess I'm still here, he thought to himself. He had no idea how long it had been, only that it was long enough that he felt hungry. Except that I'm always hungry, he added, with just a hint of humor. The terror was, perhaps, finally wearing off. But in its place had formed a dull leaden ball in the pit of his stomach that tasted distinctly of horror.

His eyes were like saucers as he scanned the world from inside his little hidey-hole. He heard a rustling in the bushes and was suddenly tense all over again. His thoughts shattered into fragments. Terror laughed sadistically in his face and once again gripped him by the throat.

Ohh…what now…oh no, oh-no, ohnoohnoohno… He hid his face in his shoulder, the side of his forehead pressed against the moist underside of a tree root. He heard the soft footfalls of someone's approach, without hesitation as if they had known of he was there all along. Detachedly, he realized it was not the heavy stomp of leather boots. Maybe it was some big jaguar come to eat him, but there was no stealthy creeping nor headlong rush of a hungry predator. His round ear twitched spasmodically. He became aware of the presence of his killer, and that it had stopped in front of the opening between tree roots. He felt soft breaths on his fur, as if the creature were standing over him.

When moments had passed and nothing else happened, he tentatively peeked out from behind his tail. With astonishment he saw a female creature like himself, some strange half-human half-tiger just sitting there staring at him. He relaxed his rigid muscles and slowly unfolded himself to observe her timidly.

• • •

Caoiloch regarded the young shifter, feeling a little perplexed. It was beyond her that one so old -- he was in his mid-teens she estimated -- would have not a fighting bone in his body, but here sitting before her was just that. In many ways, he was like a cub: innocent, trembling, and in desperate need of comfort in this den of chaos. But that feeling of safety he so desperately craved was also alien to her. From a young age she had learned to survive, being born a tarati. This boy obviously had not been...like Shainon.

But above all, her observations lead her to a conclusion, that this boy could be easily molded to the will of House Rh'thaou, for children are always so malleable.

Again she flipped her honey-gold hair behind a shoulder and smiled. The expression was with more sincerity than she intended, and she did not recognize it at first. "Greetings. I am Caoiloch, what is your name?"

"Um…" his voice cracked from lack of recent use. He had been watching her ever since he had realized she was another shifter, feeling his fear bleed away. Though she was by human standards weird-looking, somehow… maybe it was just his fear getting the better of him, but there was something that attracted him to her. He felt a desperate need to reach out to someone. He wanted to embrace her, stroke her hair, and he wanted to hide. But now that she had addressed him he felt suddenly shy. "I'm M…M'Kenzie. McKenzie."

She smirked. "Your Taratus name, silly."

"Sorry. It's Makon," he said finally, putting emphasis on the first syllable.

Hm, not an exact "translation," a combining of first (Mc, McKe, or Mcken) and last name, so he could very well be related to Shainon, whose name is not an exact translation either. And then again, he may not be. "Makon," she said as if rolling it around on her tongue. "I like that name."

• • •

His head lay in her lap, the body from spotted head to banded tail limp and relaxed. A boy whose sleep was the deepest and most satisfying he had had in years. Not that this is saying much, Caoiloch mused as she reclined against a tree while playing with his long, curly black hair with obvious pleasure. As long as she was touching him, he did not seem inclined to twitch, shudder, or laugh in his sleep. To call his disturbing dreams nightmares would be an understatement most nights. The laughter that often escaped his sleep-slackened lips, a deep, toneless, almost insane laugh, unnerved even more hardened members of the House, and downright terrified Erloch's entire harem.

Not that it bothered Caoiloch or her co-alpha brother, Erloch. It had, after all, been part the plan all along: to twist the soul and psyche of one of Shainon of House Nhonn's own kin, then set them loose against one another. With any luck and skill, Makon would be capable of defeating and killing Nhonn's Alpha.

So far, Makon had changed much since their first meeting, as had Caoiloch, as loathe as she was to admit it. She did not want to think about it, just the catalyst for her change. That catalyst was a far cry from the shivering, terrified child she had met all those months ago. He had become a strong young man, capable of leading a group of silent assassins through the jungle, and from shadow to shadow in a village dispatching anyone in his way of his mission. Men, women…children…animals, it was all the same.

Once she remembered coming upon him from behind. They had been in the middle of a raid for supplies, Makon leading a small group including Sieban and Gaeval, Caoiloch leading Tyrach and another warrior who was now dead. Erloch had gone in alone, of course. She remembered circling around the small knot of bodies and saw Makon standing over someone with a silencer-equipped handgun (obtained, of course, from a raid). His gaze flicked to Caoiloch and her party in acknowledgement of their presence; he did not flinch, just pulled the trigger. Two precise shots killed a young woman with a fussing infant. A young mother perhaps, or an older child with her sibling. Caoiloch was not sure which was more disturbing, that the girl could have been his age, or that neither victim had even whimpered in pain.

To see that blank stare on his face as he killed them quickly and almost painlessly was disturbing. His once fresh, innocent, even fearful face had become the mask of Death. She knew his opinion of death, that it was necessity, otherwise he would never have done it. He told himself he would stop, one day when they were self-sufficient and free to roam without fear. But…sometimes she thought that he enjoyed the kill like she and her brother did. Maybe she was just telling herself that.

But the necessity of killing had been borne of their need for a quick and silent raid. It meant fewer casualties in the long run that way. And as disgraceful as stealing was, to live in this region it was essential to their survival and prosperity to do so. It disgusted Caoiloch, and to a lesser extent Erloch, his girl Sylnes, and even his honorable warriors Tyrach and Sieban. Makon had been reluctant at best, at the beginning, but with time came to understand the seriousness of their predicament.

And one thing about Makon, when he had made up his mind about something, he rarely wavered. Once he had decided to help with the raids, he gave training every ounce of his concentration. He studied tirelessly the arts of stealth, strength, killing with or without weapons including throwing implements, guns, blades, and poisons. He spent hours shadowing Erloch, his warriors, and Gaeval, missing no detail. Then, he spent days, with or without sleep, just practicing, perfecting, improvising.

Erloch had long ago bowed to his sister, praising her foresight and cursing his bloodlust and the overwhelming desire to kill anyone of Shainon's ilk. His so-called guilt lasted for perhaps an hour at most before that thirst for vengeance took hold and his devious mind set to work. Greed can be a beautiful thing.

On some level, even more beautiful to watch was Makon's transformation. It had been gradual, like the awakening of fruit trees from their long, cold, winter's-long slumber. She had watched her handiwork as he blossomed into a beautiful merciless creature of death. Shainon would be horrified at the change in his brother. Makon had confirmed their relationship, that Shane was Makon's elder brother.

He had always believed that Shainon had abandoned him. House R'thaou made no move to discourage that belief, but they did often emphasize it, which only fueled Makon's anger, and rage… A white lie, a half-truth. Why did Caoiloch feel guilty about that? They did not know what had happened, whether Shainon had actually abandoned his brother. They knew next to nothing about it. So why not encourage his beliefs, especially if they helped him slip further and further under their control?

She sighed. Back and forth she went in her mind at times like these, when they lazed about together. On one hand, she hated to "spoil" Makon as she had, but on the other she loved twisting people's lives around to do her bidding. But it came down to that change in herself that she did not like to discuss, even with herself.

I … I've come to love him. She shook her head. No, face it, from the very beginning you wanted him for yourself. Lusted after him. Cared about him, even…loved…him. No, there was no such thing as love at first sight. It was all hormones, all physical.

Looking down at his sleeping form, she wanted to crush him to her breast and protect him from the world. Now that was hormonal. She sighed silently. They had been on the run for too long. Their captors had wanted her to breed, and she had demonstrated her opinion of that, by slaughtering her would-be mate and his guards. Now…now she was no longer sure.

She was growing uneasy and restless. One-handed, she stroked the baby-soft fur of Makon's chest where his shirt opened to partway down his torso. Even as it comforted her, her tail flicked back and forth in her agitation. She knew that they had a mission this afternoon, and much to prepare for ahead of time. She did not want to, but a new guerilla camp had been found last night during one of their patrols. Makon had sighted it first. That was why he was so comfortable this morning, almost smug, really. Big clever Makon had discovered the enemy before anyone else, and most importantly, before they had found the band of animal-shifters. Of course after returning home to bed down for the night, what they'd done (excuse being a celebration in his honor) would make any male feel smug and lazy.

That was another thing that had changed about her protégé. When they found him in that clearing, he had been so innocent that he had never done the "dirty deed." Amazing. Apparently where he was from it was not so uncommon for people to wait… Why? She had asked him this, and his answer had been clumsy, hesitant…chaste. He had even had a hard time saying the word "sex." Good boy. But not for long… Yes he had grown in many ways.

A branch to her left rustled like wind dancing through the trees and suddenly Erloch stood before them. She knew why he was there, it was time to stop lounging around. It had almost begun to annoy him, her new habit of sitting here while the early-morning hour advanced. She knew this, and there were other things she should be doing. But…her reluctance was great. She did not particularly want to stop playing with those luxurious sable ringlets. Makon was so comfortable laying against her. She did not ever want to move.

She did not see Makon as Erloch was seeing him.

He glared down at the cheetah-shifter with half-lidded scorn. It was obvious to him that his sister was not aware that Makon was awake, let alone glaring at her brother, sizing him up as a rival. My, aren't we feeling invincible today, the Alpha thought to himself. I will not hesitate to kill you, cub. The words were not communicated even by telepathy, but his lazy malevolence was plainly conveyed to the boy. Yes, Caoiloch would be pissed, but no more than I may be if one of my girls died by her hand. As co-alphas, the brother and sister team shared responsibility in all things. Both reserved the right to punish or even kill one of their Housemates without question. They respected and trusted one another that much.

He looked at his sister and knew that she was finally aware of Makon's consciousness. "Your boy toy looks like he needs to be put back in his place. I don't like the look of him this morning."

A glint of malicious amusement flashed across Makon's features. He remained completely relaxed, but the animosity was there, flowing freely under the surface and ready to spring.

Caoiloch smirked. "Is he making faces at you, Eri?" Her remark was teasing, but in her tone was a deadly warning. If Makon did not behave, she would be forced to exert her dominance over him in favor of her brother.

In response, Makon stretched, and if it was possible, his legs and body seemed to grow in length. Languidly, he reached over his head and wrapped his arms around her back very loosely. He looked up at her submissively and half-buried his face in her midriff.

Caoiloch flicked her gaze up to her brother questioningly. She would neither defend nor punish her lover for transgressions against him without Erloch's assent. As much as she loved Makon, she would choose Erloch every time, and he knew this.

Erloch dismissed it negligently. Perhaps it was a mistake, but he loved his sister similarly. For her sake he did not particularly wish to torment Makon unless he deserved it, or had a specific inclination to do so. All he said was, "We have much to do. Get yourself cleaned up," he addressed to Makon, "you reek of sex."

Makon looked up at him innocently as if confused. Nice try. Only alphas were allowed to carry that kind of scent around. It was like attaching a flag to one's tail and a badge to one's chest. One did not display any form of prowess unless their rank allowed it. And right now Makon reeked of Caoiloch though he was no Alpha. That did not mean that the siblings were supposed to smell like they had been rolling around together in the dirt. It was complicated, but everyone understood such things, even Makon. His ploy was not even remotely cute. Not only that, but they would be heading out on a reconnaissance mission later. No stupid mistakes, like smelling up the area before you even got there, would be tolerated. Even humans would smell you coming if you smelled badly enough.

Erloch looked down his nose at the boy with palpable disdain. Don't be stupid, the words he dripped into the other's mind, thick like molasses.

Ashamed, his subordinate bowed his head and rose to his feet. He had a way of folding in upon himself then unfolding again that was strange yet oddly elegant. Caoiloch was suddenly behind him, slid her arms from his waist up to his chest, parting his shirt as she did so. She licked his shoulder and neck like a lioness might another lion. Much affection between them. "I'll go with you," she said leaning her cheek against his shoulder, rubbing along her cheek back and forth and finally a single canine. He leaned into her, the back of his head resting on her forehead.

Erloch watched them unabashedly, arms crossed against his chest. Hell, he could watch them having sex and Makon could not complain for fear of having his throat ripped out, as was his right. Besides, his expression was only pensive. He saw something different between those two that he and Gaeval did not share. He was not sure he understood it, but thought that he could investigate further. I'd like a go at him sometime, he told his sister, who arched an eyebrow as they passed.

Makon would have made some sort of appeasing posturing if Caoiloch had not been pushing him onward from behind. She did not turn her head to look at Erloch, but moved in alongside Makon as they walked. Eri…? Her surprise was apparent, laced with a little apprehension and amusement.

She heard an acknowledging grunt behind her. I wouldn't hurt him. Much… Unless he needed it of course. He referred to something more along the lines of punishment rather than eroticism for that last statement, his voice flowing from slinky mischievous-ness to dangerous seriousness.

And I suppose you'll need my assistance for this? Or is this blind exploration so to speak?

Some of it, he said without elaboration. Might try a sort of foursome with Gaeval even.

His thoughts ran morbidly scientific, calculating. The way he sounded, she would have expected Erloch to dissect Makon while the boy performed some carnal act, if he had not promised to leave him unharmed. It puzzled Caoiloch and she wondered what Erloch was up to.

• • •