Iska had been half-asleep, nestled warmly among his siblings, when he felt the subtle shift beside him. His turquoise eyes fluttered open just in time to see Citadel slinking away, careful and calculated. Iska, still young and full of curiosity, frowned, his sharp mind already piecing together what his older sibling was planning. Citadel always had that glint in his eyes, the one that meant trouble—or at least a boundary was about to be pushed.
The cool night air filtered in through the small crack in the door, carrying with it the scent of fresh freedom. Iska's paws itched to follow. He wanted to be there with Citadel, to see whatever excitement lay beyond the veranda, but... their father would never approve. The thought of the Warlord's stern gaze kept Iska grounded for a moment longer, but just a moment.
He shifted carefully, untangling himself from the warmth of his siblings. His legs felt like they were made of feathers as he quietly padded toward the door. He peeked out into the night, catching sight of Citadel standing on the edge of the slope. It wasn't often he got to see his brother outside the confines of their den like this.
"Where are you going, Cit?" Iska whispered, his voice barely a breath in the darkness. The thrill of sneaking around tugged at him, but his protective instinct, even at this young age, held him in place. "You’re going to get in more trouble, you know that, right?"
Still, despite his words, there was a flicker of excitement in his eyes, a grin parting his lips too. He wanted to see what Citadel was after, but he wasn’t about to let his brother go alone. “Convince me to go with you.”
"Speech"
