Cutthroat had been on his way to his frequent haunt — the Creek for the Pirate favored the water more than he did most company — when he caught Bazi’s scent. He paused in his steps for a moment, remembering their last encounter (not including the meeting since that had not been so one on one) and the words he had yearned to tell her, words of her beauty that the Captive had not forgotten but rather kept close to his chest like the lovers’ locket of Davy Jones. Cutthroat had done his very best to avoid anyone that he could (unless he was called for personally) from the meeting where he had been called into the spotlight, albeit unfairly in his general opinion since it had nothing to do with him, but he could not forget. It had been an obvious mistake coming to these wolves, wanting to atone for what he hadn’t even done. He might have arrived with the raiding party but he had not took part in it and the Pirate itched now, more so ever, to wish that he could turn back the clock and just wander on. He hadn’t, though. He had been led, by whatever shred of morality he possessed to come and make up for the wrongs only to have the past flung back at him when he had been nothing but an obedient and complacent prisoner.

Alas, the inky Pirate shook his head, reminding himself that he was paying his dues. He got what he deserved. No less, no more; and he deserved every harsh and nasty word slung his way.

It was what kept his vagabond spirit bound and chained, what kept the fires of his fight dimmed and smoldering in ashes.

Without having consciously decided what he was doing he found himself following Bazi’s scent trail slowing and pausing when he came upon her, eyes the color of golden doubloons taking her in, noticing as if it were a tangible and living thing that she was angry. Her ire emitted from her body in violent waves, seen in the way she held herself. It was probably a mistake but then again, he had a mile long list of mistakes. What was one more? “Your fury would rival the kraken’s lass.” He commented in a way of something of a compliment even if it hadn’t been intended to sound that way. Whatever Cutthroat could say about her beauty he found her impressive period, not just her anger.

She grumbled about the kraken that Cutthroat had mentioned and for a moment he shuffled his paws against the soft grasses at his paws wondering if, given the foul mood he suspected that Bazi was in — if her irate body language was any indication (it was a pretty clear one to him) — that maybe comparing her to the kraken had not been a precisely wise choice to make. “Aye, a kraken. It’s a colossal beastie that lives in the sea. Apparently it does Davy Jones’ — he was a fearsome Pirate — bidding and eats wolves.” He shrugged his shoulders as if he did not put much stock into the story. As it was, he did, but it kind of sounded ridiculous when he was explaining it to someone who wasn’t a pirate. It was probably just another fancy weaved tale his fellow pirates were rather good at making. “It’s a much better story when you’re younger.” He muttered under his breath before he let it go deciding that it wasn’t worth defending it regardless of what she thought because it really did sound awful far fetched.

Doubloon gold colored eyes watched as Bazi studied him intently and the Pirate’s ears laid back to half mast on his skull wondering if she was going to call him out on something like most of her pack mates seemed to like doing. Apparently, he was a good thing to make an example out of. He hadn’t particularly been happy about it but he was in no position to say or do anything and so he quietly took it because that was what was expected of him as their Captive. For a moment Cutthroat hesitated at her question torn between what he thought she might want to hear and what he really wanted to say. He was frankly, ok with the fact that they were gone. There was two less hostile wolves towards him and Fox chasing them out hardly affected him at all, in reality. “If they are dangerous she made the right decision. It was probably not an easy one but then again she should probably get rid of me too,” On that he really couldn’t grumble about because Tuwawi had been right despite how Cutthroat felt about being singled out personally.

“I have been complacent and docile but from the point of view of those who don’t know me, who haven’t been keeping an eye on me don’t know that and keeping me around as a Captive is contradicting because she kicked out two senior members of the pack for being dangerous.” Now that the spotlight wasn’t on him it was easy to see some of the others’ point of view (even if he disagreed with it). “What do you think of it?” He asked Bazi in turn.

Cutthroat watched as Bazi offered him a stiff smile, though he did not attribute it to any sort of real mirth (the terseness of her lips saw to that) but he offered her something of a dashing one in turn. Just because the muscles tugging upwards felt good to the Captive who could not remember the last time he had smiled. And while Bazi did not comment on his observation that Fox should kick him to the curb (it probably would have made several wolves happy to be rid of him) but Cutthroat figured that maybe he didn’t want to know the Beta’s true opinion on him and so let it slide more for his own sake than anything else. His ears cupped forth when she began to speak once more, informing Cutthroat that Ferdie was sick and for a moment Cutthroat almost interjected that Ferdie had not appeared ill to him, however, he got the gist that Bazi didn’t necessarily mean a physical illness but instead an illness of the mind. Or heart. Or both, perhaps. “You shared a den with him, lass?” Out of all that she had spoke that was what he chose to ask her first? Cutthroat wasn’t sure why it surprised him so much, or why it reared jealousy in him that Ferdie had shared the sheer intimacy of sharing a den with Bazi. …Of course it could be called a non-romantic sort of intimacy that he shared with Fox since they shared a den. Then again, it was so Fox could keep an eye on him, he knew.

“Was the illness truly that bad?” Cutthroat didn’t know much of mental illness and made a habit to avoid both Ferdie and Jace as much as he could during the short time they, too, had resided in the Creek with him (although Cutthroat wished he could have avoided Njal as easily). Cutthroat was, by no means, sticking up for Ferdie he was simply curious as to Bazi’s opinions of his condition. When she glimpsed at him with the eye that was still facing him; for she had turned her head away sharply with a snort previously, and then voiced yet another opinion. That she thought they were together. For a moment, the manner in which the Beta Female truly meant ‘together’ was lost on the inky Pirate and his lips parted to confirm that it was sort of obvious they would stick together being as how they were both outcast but then it sunk in which way she had meant it.

She thought they were together, like mates, partners. Lovers.

It was an interesting observation to Cutthroat who attempted to wrap his mind around the idea and then wished he hadn’t as unpleasant images flooded his mind. “What made you come to that conclusion?” Cutthroat wouldn’t have been surprised if she was right, in the end, but it was kind of moot even if it was true now, wasn’t it?

Any conflicting thoughts Cutthroat might have held in regards to deeper meanings of the ‘sharing a den’ Bazi and done with Ferdie had been diminished when she told him, without prompt from him, that it wasn’t like that. Not that Cutthroat had any standing reason to be bothered by it, whether it wasn’t like that or it was. “Ah,” Cutthroat responded when Bazi further explained that Ferdie treated her like a child and for a moment, doubloon colored eyes studied her for a few brazen moments before he looked down at more respectful aspects of her (looking at the face of a leader was a bold thing to do), unable to exactly fathom any sort of reality that he pictured Bazi as a child. To Cutthroat she was a woman just as Fox was. In a moment of brief interest it made the inky pirate wonder how old Ferdie really was before the interest was suddenly extinguished as one might snuff out a candles’ flame. He did not care for Ferdie or Jace’s welfare (hadn’t even when they had been apart of the pack, well aware of the hostility they both had held for him).

Inquisitive, Cutthroat listened, ears twitching when she mentioned just how bad his condition was. According to her he refused to eat, withered and then, without provocation attacked a pack mate, but not just any but a wee child at that! Cutthroat’s lips twitched with his disgust, not bothering to make any attempt to hide it. As far as Cutthroat any longer cared Ferdie had no reason to hold Cutthroat in poor opinions when he obviously was much, much worse than the inky pirate. After all, Cutthroat couldn’t say that he had ever randomly attacked anyone and especially never a poor, innocent child. “No,” Cutthroat responded realizing that she had, technically, asked him if he could come up with any other reason to explain Ferdie’s …condition.

Cutthroat had to bite back the snort that threatened to slip from his black, leathery nostrils when Bazi spoke her suspicions that Ferdie couldn’t stand that Fox hadn’t taken him. “No,” Cutthroat spoke with a conviction to her next question about how he would react if he couldn’t get what he wanted. “I would take what I wanted,” Maybe that was just the Pirate in him speaking — and as the words slipped from betwixt his lips he wondered if it might get him into trouble with the pale Beta. Admittedly, he didn’t mean that to mean he wanted leadership or anything when he didn’t. It was more of: she had asked and he had responded honestly. “Aye, one of the two,” Cutthroat agreed in a grave voice, suddenly glad that Fox had kicked Ferdie out. Yet, that still left Jace. “And what of his First Mate? Jace?” Cutthroat inquired, interested to hear what, if she decided to indulge him, she had to tell him about the other man.

What he had heard so far confirmed for the inky pirate that Fox had made the right decision and since both Ferdie and Jace were punished Cutthroat assumed that Jace, too, had something wrong with him.