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"

The invitation—or was it a challenge?—hung heavy in the night air, calling him to prove himself. His brother’s smirk was one of pure mischief, daring him without a second of hesitation.

"Fun, huh?" Iska whispered to himself, his turquoise eyes following the path Citadel had taken. A surge of exhilaration raced through him, silencing any lingering thoughts of caution or their mother’s inevitable reprimand. He shook his head, a grin spreading across his face. If Citadel thought he could just run off without him, he’d soon learn otherwise.

Without another beat, Iska slipped into the shadows, moving quietly but quickly to catch up. The air was cool, each breath sharp and invigorating. As he approached his brother’s side, Iska shot him a sly look, a fang poking out as he did so.

"Didn’t think you’d shake me that easily, did you?" he muttered, barely above a whisper, but with an undeniable pride in his tone. Nevermind convincing, he was eager to see just what his brother got up to for once.


"Speech"

Citadel’s face and ears faced forward, but he strained all the same to listen to sound behind him. Was that the faint skitter of stones? Had his words been enough to ensnare his brother? He heard the whisper of fur, and finally gave in to temptation, glancing just a tiny bit to the side. Enough to catch the silver of his brother's coat as he came up beside him.

“I was wondering if you’d have the guts” he shot back, a glimmer of amusement in his eyes to tell his brother he was teasing. It wasn’t until they had descended the incline from the den into the Col that he paused for a moment. “... Do you want to sneak out and explore the redwoods, or go for a late night swim at the Cove?” Both could be creepy in the dark, and he definitely wanted to see what his brother could take.


"Citadel Fatalis"

Iskandor’s eyes narrowed playfully as he caught the side glance Citadel sent his way, noting the flicker of amusement in his brother’s gaze. He let out a quiet huff, rolling his shoulders as he settled into step alongside him. “Guts?” he murmured, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “More like I didn’t think you’d get anywhere exciting without me.”

The night seemed darker here, the trees towering above casting deep shadows over the path they took. Iska felt the thrill of the unknown prickling at his fur, a sense of adventure that only grew stronger as Citadel laid out their choices. He gave a low hum, considering each option with a glint of intrigue. He bumped into his brother as he thought, mostly to be a nuisance.

“Redwoods sound good,” he replied, his tone casual yet daring. “But if we’re going for exciting… the Col at night.” He gave his brother a sidelong look, letting the challenge hang between them. The Col’s waters would be dark and still under the moon’s light, eerie if the books were right—and he was curious to see how Citadel would handle its chill.

"Speech"

Citadel huffed in amusement at that. He’d had plenty of exciting adventures already. But there was some truth in his brother's words. He wanted to adventure with his siblings, with Iskandor. He didn’t always want to be doing everything alone.

His brother's choice sounded like a dare, and he bumped the other boy back, excitement already spurring him on again. “Last one there… has to swim out to Atlantis Island!” He called out, throwing the most daring thing he could think of out. With that, he put on a spur of speed, racing through the Col, to the fastest path to the Cove. he had to beat his brother, he had to. But if he didn’t, he would prove his bravery to the silvery wolf and take the daring swim out to the island in the dark. There weren’t sharks out that deep. Right. Right?


"Citadel Fatalis"

Iskandor’s laugh was a low, light sound as he watched Citadel dart ahead, the dare sparking a fire in his eyes. Atlantis Island, in the dead of night—Citadel knew how to raise the stakes, and Iska couldn’t resist the thrill of it despite himself. He surged forward, muscles bunching with each stride as he tried to match his brother’s speed, the chill air of the Col rushing past him with every gallop, every huff from his nares.

“Here's some advice!" he called, keeping close on Citadel’s heels. The dark path twisted before them, shadows playing tricks on his vision, but he relished the blood rushing hotly in his veins. The Cove would be waiting, a moonlit expanse of cold water, and he could already picture the way his brother would dive in if he lost.

"Swim fast when you lose, Citadel!” he teased, breath quickening with the exertion, willing his limbs to overtake his brother in the final stretch.

"Speech"

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.

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"

Citadel turned back in surprise, and realised his brother had followed him. So much for Ci’s taunt that he wouldn’t. The bear-wolf scowled at his brother, and tried to swim a little harder, a little faster. He was already panting, his paws had left the sea floor a little while ago. His fur was waterlogged, and those huge paws felt like they were pulling him down. Kicking them back up every time took colossal effort.

A part of him felt as if his brother was chasing him through the water. Why had Iskandor entered it? To prove that he could? The idea that Isk was there to support him hadn’t entered his mind. All Citadel could think about was pushing himself, and he did that until he was almost half way out to the island. Suddenly, his head went under and the boy flailed beneath the dark waves, shoving himself to surface again with effort. Cold. tired. So far out… this had been a mistake. Fear was settling into his bones. Was he even going to make it to the island? How would he ever make it back?


"Citadel Fatalis"