Moral to the Story

The words echoed in his ears. "No princess, you pissant, I'm a prince!" as his body slammed against the youth into the water. He jerked back as the Prince surged to latch his teeth into Ultyr's face. A wicked smile creased his unmarred lips as he tilted his head and stilled his body from the fight. His luck could not be any better. If he could not find his Angel... Also a fighter... He narrowed his eyes as he stepped back again from the Judilan prince, the youth was growing tired, Ultyr fresh for the fight, large with reserves of energy, the soft storm shine boy with a hint of sunset to his fur was weakening.

"Come then, Prince of Judila. Tell me your name, I'm sure you know mine." Ultyr rumbled in his chest and turned partially back to the shore, his eyes still on the weakened lad as he tilted his head for the youth to join him on the shore. As if they were suddenly equals, or brothers that had a mild misunderstanding.