The next word that came out of the tiger's mouth actually made some sense. Still, she could not see past her own anger enough to remember that he had agreed with her when she told the Bazilisk to report to the Slueth in his doings. Forcing another nod of understanding, he looked to her with the same calm resolve. She could hold on to her damned temper, but he knew better. No one could lead properly with such a violent emotion swaying their tongue. "I agree, Kri. I did not realize that the Bazilisk's actions were going to be so disputed; he could not have known the rules by heart, being so new to the herd, and I judged his capture to be for the good of the herd. He was doing quite well as Artisan and as a member of the Throat, before he went outside of his duties." He held his words clear, remaining with eyes resting on her russet form. Where had the stoic leader gone? It was as if she had multiple sides just waiting to take control, and it was all he could do to hold his own opinion steadily against her. He would not call her a bitch, nor tell her how foolish she was. That would be another show of weakness, even if she did not recognize it.

She laughed, a sharp noise against his eardrums. The golden fought from rolling his eyes at her behavior. She had once seemed like a true leader to him, but now she was proving to be nothing more than an arrogant, hormonal girl. "Even if I viewed you as my superior, Kri, I would still question your words. There are many different voices to be heard within a group. You cannot expect to grow if you only listen to your own." He replied, still reserved but growing more cold to her spiteful remarks. "This herd is not yours, Kri. It belongs to all of it's members." With that, he turned his back to her, white rimmed eyes facing the border to the North. "I do not know why you have such anger, but it will be your ruin if you do not find a way to quell it. I will not return to the Throat until you have found that." That was all there was left to say. He did not let his frame fall to show the pain he felt, but kept it tall and determined. Heavy limbs pulled him away from the bitter Sultana and her hatred, and away from the long expanse of his home. Amber eyes stayed locked on the tree-line in the distance, unwilling to look back. There were goodbyes to be said, mainly to a certain copper mare who'd sworn her allegiance to him, but they would have to wait. Somewhere outside the borders, his mask could come down.