Sneak

Citadel had no intention of losing. He'd been sneaking out for a while now. He knew what these paths looked like in the dark. He knew how the sand felt when you neared the shore. That had to account for something, right? He and Iskandor were close as they neared the finish. It was the last dune, Citadel hit at just the wrong angle and lost most of his momentum and speed. By the time he climbed it and descended, Iskandor had the lead, and his brother touches the lapping waves first. “Dammit!” Citadel snarled, the taste of defeat bitter on his tongue. 


He was panting, and he took a moment to catch his breath before raising his head high. A prince. “It's a good thing it was me, you would have chickened out.” He teased his brother, winking at the other boy in the brave facade he managed to place across his face. Right, best get this over with then. 


He jumped into the water, muttering quiet oaths at the way the cold immediately soaked into his coat. He started out touching the floor, but soon he was too deep for that. His teeth were chattering, and his heavy set bear paws began to tread. Citadel was not a light wolf, and he had never swam as far as the island. Already he was feeling the pull in his muscles, and he'd barely left the Armada beach line.