Iskandor stood at the edge of the surf, the waves licking at his toes as he caught his breath; his chest heaving with exertion. The triumphant grin on his face shone under the pale light of the moon, his gaze fixed on Citadel. His brother’s teasing was nothing more than music to his ears, but still.
His skull tilted, piercing blue eyes softening with humor and indignation. "Chickening out? Me?" he shot back, his voice a smooth yet low rumble laced with light mockery. "Brother, if I were scared of a little swim, I’d have let you win outright... Ah. But then who would haul you back to shore when the sea decides it’s had enough of your pride?” His grin stretched wider as Citadel waded deeper. Watching his brother shiver, Iska’s pride momentarily cracked under the chill, bringing a flicker of satisfaction to him—but it wasn’t enough to completely silence his concern. His amusement was tempered by the persistent worry that only a brother could feel. A dare it had been, and he hoped it would stay harmless.
As Citadel pushed further into the waters, Iskandor followed, letting the surf pull against his legs until the cold began to nip at his fur. "Careful now, Citadel," he called, his tone teetering between mockery and a genuine warning. He felt the cold his brother was fully submerged into. "The Cove’s not as forgiving as I am. You’d do well to remember the sea doesn’t care how charming you think you are." He waded forward a little more, his watchful eyes scanning Citadel’s powerful frame as it carved through the currents. He shivered, his bones feeling like weights.
Though the victory tasted sweet, Iskandor’s gaze stayed locked on his brother’s movements. His smirk held steady, but the affection in his tone was unmistakable. Iskandor loved Citadel—he always had—but he wouldn’t let his brother drown to prove a point. He may have been a more lighthearted prince than his brother, but Iskandor worried all the same. Both of them knew the line between daring and foolishness, and Iskandor would see to it that Citadel didn’t cross it tonight. Moving steadily through the shallows, he kept pace as best he could, prepared to act if his brother faltered, unwilling to let the sea claim its prize.
"Speech"
