The nubilous feeling of being watched crept over Skoll, and the hackles rose on his yellow neck underneath his untamed mane of hair. He normally took pleasure in being watched, especially when he was going through the motions of training; let them see how skilled he was, and that he was deserving of his rank! Today, however, it only made him bristle and drop his fists, turning around to the source of the staring and meeting a pair of light blue eyes. There the dark wolfdog stood, rail-thin and well-groomed, the antithesis to his wild brother.
A cocksure smile suddenly jumped to the pale prince’s lips, even though the mind behind that toothy grin was far from certain. He was developing into something with a confident swagger and a teasing tongue, like many almost-men before him. It came naturally to him, that youthful and harmless arrogance, and he used it as a shield against pregnant pauses such as this. In reality, he sniffed the air as he smiled, teasing the scent of hay and horses from his sibling; it seemed like he’d been working with Alder again.
That only troubled him more, and the brief disappearance of his grin showed it. All of the Haskel siblings loved the beautiful equines of the Kingdom, but while Skoll had been the first to have one of his own, and one of the first to aspire learning all he could from Alder, his dream had slackened after meeting his Cavalier friend. It shouldn’t have bothered him that Hati would pick up right where he left off, but it did; it almost felt like he was usurping his position as Alder’s protégé, however little he wanted the position now.
One can only spare a few moments of thoughtful silence before it grows awkward, and Skoll recognized the end of his wondering. His grin quickly reappeared, and he stepped away from the marred target, gesturing toward it with a clawed hand. “Care to take a swing?” he asked, an edge to his friendly voice.
Word Count → 339
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