Kaori 
He / Him Abrosexual Klepto
Breen's dramatic little half-brother. London's beloved boyfriend.
"When I said take me to the moon, I never meant take me alone."
I was your baby,
Your firstborn,
The hot girl in your comp sci class,
And I was Darwin's prep school dream
Bred, born, and raised to kick your ass.
I fell for circuit boards,
Rocket ships,
Pictures of the stars.
If you could only be what you pretend you are.
"I bit the apple 'cuz I loved you, and why would you lie?"
With his place secured under Breen's wing, Kaori's a loud, flamboyant presence in the veldt. He has a mean girl streak and a horrible proclivity to gossip, along with an itch to speak in the third person and swipe things he certainly doesn't need. While the kleptomania is much harder to handle, he's been improving under the warmth of security and unconditional love. Underneath the infuriating exterior is a squishy ego and a hurt teenager.
Kaori was born remarkably different: he's a chimera who had absorbed his twin in the womb. He's deaf on his white side, and the blue eye's pupil is permanently slit, like a viper. His uniqueness didn't save him, though.
Kaori was a cub under a different name when Breen frolicked to freedom, but he remembered his older sibling well all the same—his parents would never let him forget. He was raised to admire and resent the sibling he never truly knew in equal measure. Fae was whip-smart, and fae tossed that promise aside and abandoned the family. Their shared mother's two favorite words about them were "gifted" and "fucker."
Kaori was expected to eclipse Breen's prowess by his parents, but he never found himself able to even meet their baseline. He preferred gossiping with the lionesses and whispering to the snakes attracted to his presence. For too long, he took that perceived failure personally, not blaming his family for the impossible and unfair expectations. Even worse were his compulsively sticky claws. Only as an adolescent, with his mentor's deadpan guidance, did he find the strength to muscle back. He wasn't a failure—he was Kaori.
He embraced himself, changed his name, and when the time was nigh, he fled in much the same way as Breen. Less frolicking, though—more trembling in shame and terror. He stumbled around the savanna in a confused stupor until he was swooped up by a nearby pride. They were prepared to welcome him into their ranks, but his turmoil ramped up his kleptomania and attitude until he was sleeping on the brim of the territory. Broken and lost was how Breen found him, and fae wasn't in much a different way after recently suffering faer rupture and reunion with faer disgraced body. The pelt rippled with unfamiliar colors, and the black patches marring faer flesh were worse, but Kaori knew who faer was. The inherent smell of their mother was hard to wash off.
He expected Breen to not even remember him, and if fae did, to feel disgust. He expected to hate faer. Despise faer.
Kaori was only tired, and he slumped all the way to Breen's camp after faer coaxing.
It's taken Kaori a few months to get his spark back, but his spunk is, at least outwardly, raring. Breen gives him all the space he needs to recover on his own and find himself, and fae doesn't begrudge him a nest in faer den when he needs something familiar. Sometimes, sometimes, fae even acknowledges him with a lick on the ear.
