Hoshor Plains Running at my side

Sorry for the quality of the post... I'm having a small muse issue today, it seems :/

Had Rakharo known of his borther's thoughts he would have probably felt guilty, but the rejection for the coyotes as a species and the mixture of bloods was more powerful than that, and bearing hybrids was not a thing he would consider, not even if they were of his own blood. Rakharo was a radical being having been raised under his own father's beliefs, but he had one advantage over Drojharko; his mother had been the most tender and humble woman among the Dotharan, and Rakharo had inherited some of that.

"No. That is not all." Rakharo answered with a more relaxed voice. He too was looking to have a moment with his brother, a bro-time as Lavakho would have called it, but after the severity of the implications Rakharo had exposed there was no space for fun afterwards. But maybe there was space for a little ceremony...

"Even if you chose to fuck slaves you are my brother. There is no one in the world I trust more than you, Lavakho." he said moving to face his brother and sitting to carry on his main purpose for the encounter. "You are loyal to me." there was nostalgia to his voice as well, brought out by the memories of his life before the tragedy. He'd had so much before that. A family, loyal followers, a Khaleesi he loved. Only Lavakho and Zhavvi were left. They were his blood.

With pride and convincement, the Khal said the ritual words, "I ask your oath, that will live and die as blood of my blood, running at my side to keep me safe from harm." He knew that Lavakho had been expecting the moment, and those words needed no explanation. Rakharo was inviting Lavakho to be his Khasak, his Bloodfang. He would put his trust in him and listen to his counsel. He would share the life with him and be his protector. They would be one, if Lavakho accepted...