“Help me name them, I cannot think right now,” says Natu, and who was he to deny her anything? At least, who was he to deny her anything unless a healer came and ordered him out of touch with her. His ears flatten, but he moves, remaining neutral because Natu is so benign to the demands and poor manners. It was not his place to tell a healer his job, nor what healer his mate ought to see.

He does not vacate the den - Hadrien was big, but not as big as himself and his two growing children combined with space to spare - and instead moves to scoop behind his mate so that he may lay down and rest supporting her after her hard-won victory. He does not so much as flinch at the mention of Heyel, knowing well her bond with the one-time-alpha and loving her better for having survived that one’s death and not left him first. He had felt the same feeling three times over, after all.

Then she sits up and he is left with a clear view to his children, that neutral monotone expression softening and lightening. “Oh Fen,” she coos for them, and frankly he finds himself too gladdened by her pride in the little wriggling masses to take Hadrien’s scolding tone to heart. Of course he would hunt for her. Even if he was ghosting about these days, he never abandoned her.

All at once, then, Samia is there and catching wind of Hadrien’s accusation. “While he might look like him, he will never be like him,” Natu corrects sharply, but he has his own mind about what is said. “He is my nephew, or something like it. The dragon blood did not settle in him well and not even angels could tame him.” He rolls a shoulder, but considers Tobias no further.

“I am a little hungry,” she admits then, distracting him from his thoughts, as he looks to Samia then - intent on also distracting her. “Samia, I know you know where I hid it. Go fetch the Capybara I caught the other day beneath the three birch trees?” At least with birch, she would know what to do. It was, after all, where he best like to spend his time resting in their little miniature clearing nextdoor.

He turns back to Natu, then, confident in the prognosis of even this coarse healer. “Rest, lay down. Samia will retrieve a meal for you and when she is back, she will even help us name her sisters. How about it?” He looks down at them eagerly, whining a little with awe in his eyes and a stray lap of his tongue sent to where he could reach of her chin