Their eyes locked, and the world fell away.

One unblinking orb of fathomless black, shiny and all-seing, ribbed with reflections of light held firmly by an invisible tether of being to an eye of soft lilac, writhing with bursts of lavender and vibrant violet. Judas could almost feel the overwhelmingly powerful conciousness of the whale, feeling at the periphery of his own, calling him deeper, moving him closer to those too-powerful jaws. Numb to the world, Judas heeded the beckoning call, wading ever deeper into the salty ocean, his mind blank to every warning he had ever heard regarding the black-and-white wolves of the sea. Just when it seemed that all was lost, that the youngest prince of Glorall was to be naught but a meal for something much more powerful, a saviour appeared in the form of his older sibling, Praetor.

His voice cut into Judas' reverie, enough to cause the wolf to swing his head from the hypnotising stare of the hunter to regard the one who called him. It took a few moments for the words to sink in, words of warning and concern that severed the invisible chokehold the whale had on Judas for good, freeing him to pivot as fast as he could, pushing with all his might through the syrupy waves and leaping to free his paws of the sucking ocean sand. It seemed an eternity before he reached the safety of the dry shore, an eternity where he was helpless as a newborn. Thankfully, the tide had been slightly too low yet for the whale to risk beaching itself, and thus it had let him escape, dissapearing into the depths as swiftly and silently as it had appeared in the first place. Judas watched it go, breathing heavily, his hackles firmly to attention as it hit him just how close he had been to certain death. The thought spooked him, but he did not yet turn to his brother. Inside his chest, he seethed both with indignation and embarrassment. Not only was this the second time he had had to be rescued by the older wolf, but he also resented the backhanded manner he had gone about trying to win their father's favour. Praetor was smart, and he had made both Judas and Octavia look like young whelps in front of their father. Octavia, true to form, had risen to the challenge, but Judas had conceded, only realising later how weak this made him look. These feelings, combined with a deep gratitude and affection, left the young prince feeling overwhelmed and upset so that, instead of thanking Praetor with the conviction he felt, he merely nodded once, his emotions clearly visible in his eyes.

Fur ruffled, Judas sat upon his haunches and began to lick himself, soothing away his strangled inferiority complex and giving himself time for the events of the afternoon to sink in. Only after he had cleaned his belly in all its entirety did he look up again,

“Thanks Praetor. I don't really know what happened there. It looked at me and I felt...enchanted, almost like I wanted it to eat me,” and then, in a lighter tone, “Probably left because it realised what a big hairball I am! I wonder, can whales vomit? It decided it would have choked on me before I was halfway down.”

He smiled, letting his frustration fizz away into the warm sand beneath him, the island replaing it with a sense of peace and content. He saw why his father spent so much time here, away from the constant pull of duty, to give him time to ponder on their mother. Praetor too was a ponderer, also choosing to spend time on the small stretch of land, enjoying the privacy it offered him.

“So I finally got up the courage to swim over here. I was hoping to find father. You haven't seen him, have you?”