Citadel wanted to push every boundary that had ever been given to them. He was already grounded from his last stint out of the pack, and was being watched like a hawk. The only time the attention on him slacked was at bed time. When all of them were sleeping together in a pile. He knew that while his father was there, there was no chance of sneaking out under the watchful eye of the Warlord.

But today, Basilisk had been called away on some alpha business late in the night, and showed no sign of returning any time soon. Now was his best chance. He lay awake and still for a little while longer, before finally, slowly, pulling himself free from his siblings. He snuck towards the door, taking care with each movement he made. He slunk through the door, left a crack open by their far. Fresh air awaited him, and in a few heartbeats he moved towards it. Out of the den, and on the little veranda before the slope down into the Col.






"Citadel Fatalis"

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"

Citadel jumped, startled by the unexpected voice behind him. He turned with a scowl to see who had caught him - and landed on Iskandor’s silver grey face. At his brother's words he almost snarled back at him. Two things stopped him; The knowledge that any such noise would bring their mothers wrath down upon them, and the excitement in Iska’s face. "I'm always in trouble. What's the difference?" Voice cool, as if unaffected by their fathers wrath.

The idea of having company on his adventure was appealing. He did so much alone these days, feeling oddly separate from the other wolves in his litter. Different, and a part. Convince me to go with you. Hmmm.

“I’m going either way, so you can stay behind and hide behind mum, or you can grow up and have some fun!” He whisper-hissed back at his brother. His face lit up with delight, and then he was off. He didn’t wait to see if he was ‘convincing’ hoping that perhaps doing, movement and rush, would cause Iska to follow him before he could think better of it.


"Citadel Fatalis"