THE TIME HAD FINALLY COME.

JUDAS TOOK A DEEP BREATH, HIS LUNGS FILLED BY AIR SO LADEN WITH SALT THEY SAGGED IN HIS BREAST, REFUSING TO OXYGENATE HIS MUSCLES. HE SHOOK OUT HIS PELT AND SHIFTED FROM PAW TO PAW, STALLING FOR TIME AS HE GAZED OUT ACROSS THE TEAL OF THE OCEAN. THE CLOUDS ABOVE HIS HEAD WERE WHITE AND PUFFY, UNUSUAL FOR WINTER AND, DESPITE THE BITING WIND, THE SAND BENEATH HIS PAWS FELT HOT AS A DESERT DUNE. HE GRINNED SARCASTICALLY AT HIMSELF, PINNING HIS EARS BACK AGAINST THE CRASH AND ROAR OF THE WAVES AS THEY TAUNTED HIM, LICKING at his paws hungrily. He knew he couldn't hold it off much longer. Sucking in another salty breath, he ploughed into the icy ocean.

He supposed this is what prey would feel like if one were to swallow it alive, except prey would be warmer. The water was bitterly cold, catching his limbs and turning him to ice, slow as one who knows he has all the power. Beginning at his paws, the cold climbed higher, burning his skin despite his relatively waterproof coat and drenching his belly fur. Soon it touched his chest and clothed his neck in cold, but he did not stop. Even as he felt the sandy shelf beneath him drop away, he was alreadsy kicking out strongly, propelling himself towards his father's island. Bravado coursed through his veins and he paddled faster, mouth tightly shut against the salty spray lest he swallow any of the bitter waters swamping him. It pulled at his coat slyly, dragging him down, but he wouldn't let the fear take hold. That's how it got you, that's how you drowned. Panic was a swimmer's worst enemy. Falling into a comforting rhythm that shifted between paddling and kicking, he soon realised he wasn't as bad at staying afloat as he thought it would be. Also, to top it off, he could taste adventure on his tongue, and he felt warmth race through him at the thought of exploring his father's island at last.

After what seemed like an eternity, Judas' paws touched solid sand once more and he gripped at it gratefully, his muscles aching with cold and fatigue. Rocks were spattered in the water around him as well as on the shore before him, looking like weird lumps on the skin of the earth. The sight was rather unnerving, but Judas shrugged it off. At last, he had made it! He felt proud, haughty even, as he surveyed his own private kingdom. The sand here was whiter than the shore he left, the ocean more shallow, more blue. Even the birdsong was sweeter, the gulls sounding more like nightingales to the warrior who listened to them, a hero in his own mind. Uttering a loud bark, he galloped away down the waterline, spraying mud and foam everywhere, snapping at the birds who launched erratically skywards, screaming their annoyance and spattering him with their droppings. But Judas, whose spirits were unimaginably high, ignored their slights and slowed to an easy walk, tongue lolling from his mouth in a pant. Suddenly, his ears caught a high-pitched whine, almost too high-pitched for him to hear, and in a language foreign to any he had heard. It reminded him of wolf-talk, and yet it was different still, less solid, more sad. Pivoting his body, he stared out to sea, away from the inlet between Moladion and his island.

There!
In the distance, an onyx fin broke the skin of the water, towering higher than a wolf stands, and moving at an unimaginable speed. Moving towards him. Startled, he peddled backwards as fast as he could, although he needn't have worried. The fin pulled up well away from where he stood, the water around it so deep it appeared almost black. If he squinted against the glare of the sun, Judas could make out a white patch beneath the water, another fin. Something about it bewitched him, drawing him closer, pulling him in. He took a step forward and then another, water spilling around his paws as he went, wading deeper as though he felt no fear. Still the creature watched, still it kept up its high-pitched keening, singing to him alone, drawing him into deeper water. A few more pawsteps and he would be in range of the marauder, in range of the fiercest set of jaws in the ocean.

In range of a killer whale

(oOC- the whale is at the island to hunt seals, beaching itself as whales are prone to do. However, when a smaller creature wades right up to it, I am sure it would take it anyway, seal or no seal)

ps: ignore the Caps. I didn't realise it was on and I just couldn't bear the thought of rewriting that section xx sorry <3