Skoll chased after the ball that had been his constant companion when he was only a tiny little thing, though his game had changed since his first month of age. He moved quickly, his developing muscles rolling underneath his thickening golden coat, and let out a loud bark that, while it still showed his young age, was strong and commanded attention. Once he caught up with the ball, he dipped his head and sent it flying with a shove of his snout, and ran again. He had actually been at the game for a considerable amount of time, proving the endurance that would grow to be a trademark of his when he was all grown up.

Once the ball flew through the air and landed close to a lean tawny shape settled on the ground, the sun prince skidded to a halt, paws digging into the ground. With his growing body, he was getting clumsy, and so it wasn’t too surprising when he crashed on his face.

“Terraaaa!” the puppy howled, picking himself up again quickly and flicking his tongue gingerly over his nose. Luckily, he hadn’t reopened the wound caused by the angry bobcat, but it hurt something bad. Pawing once at his sore muzzle, he hobbled over to his occasional play mate and wagged his tail until he got closer to the rabbit she had been gnawing on.

The blonde wolfdog protested. “That’s Liam’s! You gonna get in trouble. He practice stitches on that.” He wasn’t really a stickler for the rules, but he was an obedient enough puppy, raised right—and his last excursion out into neutral territory had gotten him into big trouble, making him even more concerned. He glanced around quickly in case his big brother would waltz up to them there and then, though he hadn’t played with Liam a lot lately.

Emerald eyes set in a coyote face flickered over him, and Skoll lowered his ears in a mixture of shyness and guilt when she whined. Her quiet concern was slightly better than the sharp words of worry and frustration that most of the other adults attacked him with. Whether or not the boy had truly learned his lesson after the attack and the fear and reprimands that had followed was yet to be seen, but for now he was chastised.

He wouldn’t tell her about the bobcat unless she outright asked, though. Even thinking about the attack made the claw marks sting.

Her jaws working the rabbit once more, Terra defended her actions and nosed the stiffened animal toward her. He gave it an experimental sniff and lick, his nose wrinkling with disgust. “I guess,” he allowed, not sure that Liam could really be mad about anything. He’d always been so patient and nice to his little siblings when they played together. But the pale prince had only wanted to return the favor and look out for him.

Her mention of sharing trouble for him made him grin slightly. “That’s okay. I got ’nough trouble!” Going immediately against his earlier reservations, he turned in a little circle to show her the healed wounds on his haunches. “A tiger,” he proclaimed, wondering if she’d buy his fib and yet doubting it all the same. Maybe another puppy would have gawked and began badgering him for details about the massive beast, but he heard other adults say that Terra was a “trickster” and didn’t think he could ever beat her at her own game.

At least it was a tiger rather than a grizzly-shark this time.

The young woman teased him, laughing, and his golden tail wagged behind him. He flashed another pearly grin then shrugged his shoulders, which were getting broader though he was still dwarfed by the adult males of the pack. “Next time,” he promised with all of the seriousness of a four-month-old, though he highly doubted there would be a “next time” for a long while yet. His caretakers would be watching him like a hawk after his little escapade, and life would be boring but safe for the next few weeks until he was at least large enough to take care of himself.

He turned back around once he decided she had gotten her fill of the claw-caused rifts through his pale fur, his bright green eyes meeting hers as he eagerly waited to see if she had bought his story. When she inferred details about the tiger, he glanced quickly back at his scarred rump and gave his head a little shake.

“No, not big big,” Skoll said hurriedly. He had learned that the really boasting and embellished details worked better for other kids, but usually the adults only stared sternly at him until he fessed up. “But it was really, really mean and scary,” he went on; that much was true of the tiger’s distant North American relative that had attacked him in the woods. It had been as bold and hungry as the puppy but with more experience and nastiness than a young’un could muster up.

Taking a seat and lifting his head, the little cocky smile that was slowly becoming his own crawling across his lips, he added, “You don’t gotta worry ’bout though, Terra. I gonna learn how to fight all the tigers and bears and everything!”

The prince tossed his head, imagining his place as the shining protector of all of the pack—but at least he was willing to do his best to make sure his family and friends were okay, even if most of his words were silly and boastful. He told childish fibs about a lot of things, but his desire to get strong enough to defend all of the Court was no lie.

The lithe coywolf stretched, and Skoll realized for the first time that he was nearly her size already. It made him feel—surprise surprise—even more like a big boy rather than the little pup she’d playacted stories with only a couple of months ago. He would probably get bigger than her; the hybrid vigor of wolf-dog mixes usually resulted in large animals, and already he had proven to be the largest of the litter. Whether or not he would absolutely dwarf her was yet to be seen, but the thought of looking down at everyone he used to have to crane his neck upwards to look at was a little overwhelming. For all his promises to grow huge and strong and be a good protector for the pack, he was understanding—just a little—what his father meant by enjoying his time as a puppy. For the most part, though, he was like every other kid—wanting to get the growing part over with so they could be like the adults, and like his role model the King.

His mouth gaped at her offer, and excitedly he rose back onto all fours, tail wagging at a commendable tempo. “Yes, I’d like!” he burst out. He gave his head a disbelieving shake. “All the other grownups are boring; they don’t wanna teach me cool stuff or help me fight anything.” And it was probably for the best with his overeager attitude, but to the boy, it was only smothering his chances at being a good warrior when he matured.

Her question about the tiger caught him off guard, and he watched the sweep of her tail while his tongue fell from his pale jaws. Tigers had long stripe-y tails, right? He cleared his throat, his green eyes darting left to an empty patch of air.

“It was um—bit off. By a…by a bear. Or a coyote warrior.”

And Skoll grinned again. He couldn’t get enough of how awesome he was.

The creamy-blonde puppy jerked back when she stood, as if expecting for her to launch herself at him there and then. He passed the reflex off as simply adjusting where he stood, the better to watch and listen to her. His tail wagged, curling briefly over his back in the manner of a malamute. He figured that Terra had a ton of tricks up her sleeves, since she didn’t look like she was big and powerful like the King was. His sister Lottie was the smallest of the litter and used tricks to best her brothers all the time. The boy hoped that he would grow up just as large and powerful as his daddy and not have to use tricks, but sometimes what Lottie did was clever and he wished that he could be as quick-minded as her.

“A… A bobcat?” Skoll echoed, ears tilting back. Had she found him out? He shook the hesitation off and nodded as if accepting her statement. “Yeah. There are lots more bobcats than tigers.” He grinned and wagged his tail even harder, his forequarters dipping into a play bow as green eyes gazed up at her expectantly. “Teach meee! All the tricks!”

The coywolf lowered her lean body, and Skoll listened to her in rapt attention as she began to describe the bobcats. He snorted at the first statement, already knowing that; his tongue involuntarily swept over his scarred black nose again. She described the felines’ attitude and spoke of underestimation—but despite following all of her words, he was clueless when she tilted her head and remained low, nonthreatening, her posture pleasing the dominant puppy blood that coursed powerfully through his veins. Like she said, he relaxed.

She moved fluidly, with all the ’yotish agility and trickery in her blood, and while the puppy did jerk away with a yelp of surprise, she still managed to ease her jaws around his throat. He stood very still, his chest heaving, his green eyes turning in an effort to see her as he tried to keep from bumping against her teeth. A memory triggered, of her bowling him over when he was smaller and trying to flaunt his childish dominance—that and this made him want to growl, but he had also learned her lesson.

Skoll narrowed his green eyes as she pulled away, his expression serious over simmering rebelliousness. “So get ’em off guard and hit ’em stomachs?” he asked, taking a moment to listen to her answer before he moved.

He was clumsier in his strike, but as he surged forward, he was giving her enough time to respond—either to rear back like a bobcat and continue the lesson, or to dodge and counter. His mouth opened up to try to nip whatever tender flesh he could, though, and he put what power he could in his moving body rather than his jaws so she wouldn’t get hurt…assuming, of course, that he would even be able to touch the fleet-footed Terra.

Terra offered him another warning before she balanced up on her hind legs, and Skoll grinned against her creamy-colored fur as he managed to get a light bite in on her belly. Her weight, precariously held upright as it was, came crashing down; luckily his hold was flimsy enough that he was able to scramble backwards, though not before she came near to crushing him and smacked her paw across his flank. He was bowled over by the impact, landing on his feet and shaking his head before scampering to the side in case she followed up the attack. His ears pricked at her final bit of advice before he wagged his tail and came around to her side, nipping before dropping down into a childish play bow and yapping challengingly.

It was clear that, despite his intentions to be the best bobcat fighter in the world, the prince was limited by his childish attention span.

Tails wagging and barks breaking the cold air, the young Court members faced off against each other. The boy felt maybe a little bad about abandoning the lesson, but this was Terra and she understood how it felt to be a kid. She wasn’t too much older than him herself, but even if she were, she acted more like a child than an adult sometime with her mischievous ways. He liked that about her now though; she was fun but she could also kind of take care of him if she needed to. And she knew about how to fight bobcats!

The coywolf slipped past him and whacked him with her long tail, and Skoll whirled around with a high-pitched growl, teeth snapping on air, but he closed his mouth and turned his muzzle when she batted at him. Tail wiggling, he yapped loudly then barreled forward with his head down, trying to knock her over like a bull. Another thing he liked about Terra was that he could be rough when playfighting her, unlike his smaller siblings and other pups.

His blind charge was dodged easily, and while he cursed the woman’s fleet-footed agility, a lame old dog could have side-stepped the attack. Her teeth clamped down on his fluffy golden tail, jerking him to a stop and causing him to let out a yelp. She tugged and reeled him back in as his claws dug into the ground; she only relinquished her grip to leap on top of him.

Instinctively, the wolfdog pinned his ears tight against his head, so that she wouldn’t tear them off or something now that she was on him. Using his growing, weighty body to his advantage, he put all of his energy into rolling over so that they would be face to face. Four legs pushed frantically upwards, trying to jar the coyote’s grip and maybe even send her flying off.

Jaws fastened on the scruff of his neck as Skoll wriggled, firmly putting him in his place; but there was just enough leeway for him to roll over as he intended. He thought he was strong enough to break free, at least, unaware that Terra had loosened her grip anyway. She seemed to teleport away from him and his flailing paws, and while this helped him to stand with a triumphantly lifted chin, her muzzle came in close to snap at him. He yelped and sidestepped, bristling and staring at her with wide green eyes.

A worthy opponent, the epic voice in his head boomed, and his actual voice giggled childishly at that.

And then the coywolf charged again, and Skoll was astounded at her speed. He had been built for size and endurance rather than agility, outmuscling some opponents and outlasting most, so he could only stand and face her. Her head came toward him, and he was rolled over on his back again.

“Oww!” the boy yelled suddenly.