Nootau stared wide eyed into the violet eyes of Heyel, feeling suddenly quite threatened, and perhaps even badly about poking fun at the older wolf. He found that he couldn’t hold the wolf’s gaze because he felt somehow shamed by playfully taunting the two wolves. He looked away for a few moments, but found also that he could not look away for long. It was the strangest feeling, and Nootau was completely distracted by it. He leaned away as Heyel leaned towards him and his ears flattened backward and he tucked his chin to his neck. This was no an aggressive or defiant move, it was simply, nervousness. In fact, had Heyel wanted to, he probably could have tricked Nootau into falling off the boulder backwards by continuing to press on the young male’s space bubble.

But, lucky for Nootau, he wouldn’t be so embarrassed this day. Instead, he shifted into curiosity, eager to hear this secret from a living legend. And then heard heard it. What? What?! That was cruel. In a language Nootau had heard bits of since he arrived, but hardly understood it! And then the prank Heyel was playing became clear when he swiftly caught the fish under one of the gills and passed it back at the dark male. Oh, wow. That was a good one. These angels, man, they played good tricks. First Isola and Kane had hidden their ranks, and now her father had tricked him out of a brief success. Nootau would have to remember these!

Nootau grinned and laughed, “Guess I’ve got to brush up on my skills, then.” He winked at Devil, who had successfully gotten the right to eat the fish. Nootau trotted up next to Heyel again and laid down beside him. His ears perked forwards in surprise at the venom in Amir’s words as he accused Voltair of terrible deeds. Nootau was tempted to scoff, having only known Ol’ Gold, the kind storyteller. It was impossible that he had done such tragedies! However, he kept his opinion quiet. He was hotheaded, but his time in the wilds alone had taught him not to pick at a fight that was clearly heated and obviously didn’t involve him. He couldn’t do anything to help the situation and involving himself would only make it worse.

Nootau watched as Voltaire’s angry mask melted into one of grief. He lowered his head onto his paws, his eyes wide with hurt. He never knew the loss of a parent, and so could not relate to Amir, and neither did he know the loss of a mate, for he was too young to have one, and thus he could not truly understand Ol’ Gold’s grief. However, he knew the loss of identity, and the struggle to find it and make others realize it. And both of these wolves before him had survived the same battle, and were also still trying to do their best.

This fact made his heart twist and squeezed unwanted emotions into Nootau’s being. He hated to see others in pain. He wanted nothing more than to see the approving smiles of his fellows. To see this and know this story was hard for him. Tears welled in his eyes, for he could feel the weight of Voltaire’s love for his mate that weaved its way through every note of his story. Nootau tried to hold the water in eyes, for it was un-masculine to cry, but he couldn’t. The tears trickling down the sides of his cheek as he silently grieved next to Heyel.

He felt terrible for Voltaire, but also was angry at him. How could he have blamed his own son?! But, he had just lost his mate, and now his daughter? Someone had to pay for that. Nootau covered his muzzle with a paw, sniffling quietly. His friend had suffered so much. Mercy was a cruel thing sometimes. Nootau knew that Caroline’s rib had likely punctured a lung. Her death would have been slow and agonizing if Voltaire hadn’t taken her life. However, Nootau found that he found it cruel as well. He was furious at this fact, but at who, he had no idea.

Nootau turned his tear gaze on Amir, who had in Voltaire’s eyes murdered one of his daughters. When he spoke, his words were short and confused. Nootau wiped his muzzle on his paws, and he looked at Heyel with wide, sad blue and orange ringed eyes. Surely their leader knew what these accusations meant? There was a murderer unidentified. But Nootau didn’t know if he should say anything. He wanted this hatred to end between father and son, for that was a bond Nootau would have given a lot to experience, and so thought he might tell them. However, this was their fight, right? He couldn’t possibly intervene without knowing both of them and considering both his friends. He needed a bit of guidance or support in a situation like this, for he was still a pup at heart, and wanted to help all he could.