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He feels a sense of relief that his friend agrees with him in this moment for the two, however playful, were going to get them in trouble if they kept on. Then Arthfael would be obligated to stick around and try to get everyone out of danger that they never should have been in. Bastille, however, does not find his tones affective. She scoffs at him and his ears lace back with a low growl in the back of his throat at her words, very soft and very short before he glares at her before the commotion starts. He glances at Viserion then Rhaegal as the bold prince leads them up a small rise. His own paws are cautious, pressing into the earth with suspicious pressure to make sure he did not land upon some stick to give him away. It would be just his luck to snap a stick and draw the ire of the Iromar wolves when he had just scolded Bastille for doing it - at least the girl was following behind the other boy without making too much of a ruckus. He half expected her to go charging over the hill right into whatever fray was going on on the other side. What if there was a challenge going on? The idea sparks a desire to see, a burning curiosity that is fierce.

As they creep up the hill he grows lower in the grass, ears flattened and pricking constantly until he can peer out of the grass to see the magnificent scene below. An alligator being assaulted by seven wolves. Seven! And it was holding them off with as much force as it could muster. These wolves were big, most of them, and they were a vicious lot as they threw themselves on the creature with abandon as it tried to charge towards what could only be considered the alphess of the pack. She was a bulky female. Were all Iromar wolves so thick and big?

Rhaegal's words draw his attention and his eyes narrow as he snorts in disagreement, turning his gaze to meet Viserion's eyeroll before his lips split into a knowing grin. "Exactly," he murmurs in agreement, quite content with the words before the whimper of Semele draws his attention. He glances at her and feels a stirring within him of pity; she is a tiny creature, always has been, and it is clear the violence is affecting her quite a bit. Does it remind her of the bear that had killed Ifrit right before them? He remembers it like yesterday, the way Seamus had been gripped within it's teeth and then Ifrit, his body battered and broken. The cries of Semele and her siblings.

"Hey Seme, it will be okay. I'm sure they hunt these things all the time," he says softly, leaning forward slightly so he can peer around the brothers and girl seperating him from her.

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