"Miyanna, my love, come quickly," said Blanc as he placed his knee over the incapacitated female jaguar just to be safe.
Miyanna was still frozen on her feet, not hearing Blanc.
"Miyanna!" he said out loud, making her notice she was being addressed, "Come and put it to rest."
"Ah, y-yes," she stuttered, as she started jogging towards her husband.
"Kael, Lune," Blanc spoke, addressing the twins, "You too. Put the poor beasts to rest, don't keep them suffering."
And the twins nodded, pulling their knives, and heading towards the jaguars they wounded and still clung to the hopeless idea of life.
As he watched them, Miyanna got right next to Blanc and the jaguar, curved sword in hand, "Now, my love, grab what's yours."
"I didn't do anything for it yet," she muttered.
Words that did not escape Blanc's ears, "It does not matter, with each harvest you will be able to help us more and more."
At his words, Miyanna nodded her head lightly as she watched the beast under Blanc's knee on death's door.
She pointed the curved sword's tip above the beast's heart, and in a swift motion, it offered the jaguar the peace it deserved.
As Miyanna pulled her bloodied sword out of the jaguar, Celine called for her.
"Come, Miyanna, this one is yours too," she said, her back to the knocked beast.
But Miyanna watched how the thick blood dripped off the tip of her sword.
She was now happier than ever, and even though her heart sang with joy at all Blanc and Celine were doing for her, she could not help but feel bad for taking more than the rest when she did nothing.
"No," Miyanna shook her head, "You defeated it, it's yours, Celine."
"What are you talking about, my love?" Blanc asked, his eyes wide open, "You need them."
"Exactly, sister. Why act humble?" Celine sighed as she approached Blanc and Miyanna, leaving the jaguar behind.
That was the recipe for a disaster that none were able to afford.
Two mistakes from the two wives of Blanc Denegis.
The jaguar regained its conscience as Celine moved away from it.
And in the suddenness of its panic, it ran towards the first person it laid eyes upon.
Kael.
A Kael who was putting to rest the jaguar he had managed to hit.
He had a proud smile on his face at his new harvest.
He did not even notice the jaguar running at great speed towards him.
Only one person did, as a guttural scream left his lips.
"KAEL!" Blanc yelled as he began running with all his might toward his younger brother.
The jaguar leaped, aiming straight toward Kael's neck.
Only at that moment did Celine and Miyanna realize their mistakes.
Only at that moment did Lune turn her head towards her younger brother, only to freeze upon seeing what was about to happen.
Only at that moment did Kael turn his head slightly, just to see a mouth full of sharp fangs staring straight, less than two feet away from him.
All he could do in that fraction of a second was attempt to raise his hands, hoping that it would change the inevitable.
But it did not.
The jaguar was upon him, ready to inflict the same death upon him that they had inflicted upon the other five jaguars.
An exchange of nature, of life.
One of the fairest and equal in its exchanges. A trade of life.
Even Kael's body somehow knew, even before the jaguar delivered death.
His body relaxed, his brain and soul ready to join the Vita.
Even if Kael did not wish for it.
It was certain.
As certain as the sun rising atop the horizon the next day.
As certain as death comes for all one day.
The jaguar knew it, Kael knew it, Lune knew it, Celine knew it, Miyanna knew it.
All but one knew it.
The one who was, at that moment, putting his right hand forward between Kael's neck and the Jaguar's jaw.
The older brother who was ready to sacrifice all he had for his younger brother.
The older brother, who, as the Jaguar's jaw closed in around his hand, piercing skin, flesh, and bone, did not even bat an eye at the pain that surged towards his brain.
He could not feel that pain.
And even if he left it, the pain in his heart, a heart that was pounding blood and fear into all his being, was way greater.
He would rather die than sacrifice more of his family.
Compared to that, the possibility of losing a hand was a trivial matter, a sacrifice so small, so insignificant, that he would do it in a heartbeat.
And if he did not lose his hand now, the wound would soon regenerate.
The Raw Vita of the beast that wounded you healed that same wound after the harvest had been completed.
It wasn't a rule Blanc knew from books, but a result of experience fighting against beasts.
So, the blood that gushed from his forearm was but a trivial matter to him.
But the rage…
That was no trivial matter.
He would laugh at a mistake made by anyone as long as it did not harm another.
But such mistakes… such reckless behavior from both his wives, one too prideful in her skills and one too humble and insecure, led to Kael being in as great a danger as he was in against the Moroi.
That sadness, disappointment, and rage made Blanc tear up.
That rage made Blanc howl as a beast as he thrust the sword into the jaguar's side.
Over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, until his voice gave out, until the jaguar went limp, lifeless.
Only then did Blanc let go of the sword.
Only then did the Jaguar's mouth break free from his hand, showing how bad the wound he received was.
But at least Kael was alive.