In Dire Straits - ohana means family. family means

There was a faint sound of something moving quietly in the thicket. It came from just beyond the shadows of the ancient woodland halls, adjacent to the durable, weathered down home of the Chariot. It moved with a clear drive, a single purpose, creeping in swiftly, steadily, moving closer, closer...!

In a matter of seconds, a small figure suddenly appeared at the entrance of his father's tower, icy blue eyes flitting about, cutting the stagnant air with his sharp gaze, searching, looking—

Hunting.

It didn't take long for the darkling child's gaze to eventually settle, landing on the only other occupant inside the tower, and he grinned sharply, ivory fangs flashing. Ah, Vorpal. Figures he'd be the only one inside while it was still light out. Snorting, Glamdring shook out his coat and approached him.

It wasn't like he had any other options to choose from.

(Lucky you, little Lu!)

"Vorpal," he said, casting a shadow over his brother's smaller frame. There was a strange sweetness to his tone, despite the obvious dominant stance. Glamdring waited for his sibling to acknowledge him, hovering closely, resisting the urge to shift impatiently.

When Vorpal finally did what was nonverbally commanded — he'd get a chastising nip (too gentle to draw blood, yet still hard enough to sting) on his flank if he was ignored — he'd find nothing but a bright smile beaming down on him, full and toothy and wide.

"Come with me. I wanna show you something."

He wagged his fluffy tail excitedly.

"It's really cool!"

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     Thin ribs heave, visible under superficial skin, far too fast for sleep. As Glamdring shakes his coat, and approaches, it stops entirely.

     "Vorpal."

     Shoulders draw up around his scruff, belly to the floor, like any worm should be, face hidden under a foreleg, but the growing grimace on his maw. A single breath stutters. He does not respond. Roused finally by the bite of his littermate, Vorpal stares back from the floor, tail tucked beneath his insubstantial body and full sphere of his ringed eyes visible. He seems surprised to have company.

     "Come with me," says the spectre, "I wanna show you something."

     The tower is silent, save the hiss of the wind. On spindly legs, Vorpal stands, too tall and wiry. He stays far from the window, lest it whisk him away.

     "It's really cool!" allays the elder.

     Vorpal eyes him, head down, submissive despite the premature growth spurt. He has no semblance of his sibling's bulk. "Then why..." An inhale shrieks down his dry throat. "... do you want to show me?