“A prince huh?” he cocked a brow, tone dry as he appraised the boy with mild curiosity, the one may look at a strange new insect. Nutuyik passed by him, her flank brushing against his as she turned to speak to her prince in a language that the boy had used—a language he could not understand. Frustration listed the fur along his spine and his head lowered.
“You know, I'm a prince too,” he said matter-of-factly as he swallowed the anger. “My name is Aivar,” he said as he raised his tail proudly. And he didn't care if this brat thought he was rude.
