<span style="font-weight: bold"><span style="font-style: italic"><span style="text-decoration: underline">Zane</span></span></span><br/><br/>Zane smirked at Azrael. "Impossible? If Marco was leader before the war, that would mean Oba would have eliminated him. All ferals answered to him, no one else and all other leaders were exterminated." He chuckled. "He's just a man in boots too big for him to fill. He's a nobody. Just a fake puppeteer."<br/><br/>He turned back to his mother and sighed. "Alright, look. I'll take care of Marco then I'll rest. promise. Don't trust me, you can chain me to a chair to make sure." He said seriously though it seemed like quite the hyperbole.<br/><br/><span style="font-weight: bold"><span style="font-style: italic"><span style="text-decoration: underline">Theta</span></span></span><br/><br/>Theta's ears twitched and she yawned, stretching on the piano and sitting on its edge. "Oh, Stella." She said with a small embarrassed blush. "Sorry. I was returning a flute and well....guess my feline sense kicked in since I was tired..."