His older charge was a troublemaker, he knew as much, he'd been allowed to spend much too much time with Haniel while growing up, which turned him into the mess he was now. But he was a good boy, he didn't mean any harm, not usually.

So, when word had spread to him of the cruel prank played against a soul that just so happened to be in the same squadron as him, he knew without a doubt who was responsible for their trying time.

He sighed deeply, rubbing a hand over his face, nodding to himself as he stood from his desk. This had to be addressed personally, it had been a personal affront, that would be dealt with swiftly. He turned the corner of the doorframe out of his office, walking at a steady pace from the part of the Pavilion he was currently stationed in, and took the stairs easily as he made his way down them, to the dirt field below them where the others trained under the elders instructions.

He crossed the training field silently, staring at the query of his interest, at the back of his head as he followed through the motions given.

His person of interest yelped when he snapped out and snagged him by the ear, his fists unraveling in favor of reaching for his hand instead, the Captain of the Power's tugged him around by the ear, smiling at him in greeting. "Hello, Paul."

The boy's eyes widen, fingers falling limp around his wrist. "Hey, Nis."

"I think we should have a word together, don't you?"

"Um, no, no, I think we're good."

"Let's go." The Power pulls him forward, away from his partner, nodding at Abraxos as they pass. Paul follows dutifully, if not just for the tone, but also for the obvious grip he has on his ear. "Yes, Sir." They march passed the other training classes, passed the more seasoned warriors, up to the stone veranda under the Pavilion. Paul almost trips up the stairs in his attempts to keep up with the tall Power's stride, and his fingers tighten drastically around his guardians wrist as he nearly falls, Nisroc catches him by the scruff of his tunic with his free hand and lifts him back to his feet swiftly.

They push the door open, well, Nisroc pushes the door open. "Sit."

Paul rubs at his ear but rushes forward to find himself a seat in one of the chairs across the desk from the Power's leather seat, waiting in silence for him to say what he needs to say. Nisroc shakes his head lightly, closing the door behind him, crossing around the desk to sit in the leather chair behind it.

He leans back, crossing his arms loosely, the fingers of his right hand tapping against his left forearm. "Why don't we start with what happened in the barrack today?"

Paul held his hands up placatingly. "I can explain!"

"Yes," he nods, still tapping his arm lightly. "Please, I would love to hear you explain this one."

"I can explain!" It was a struggle though. No explanation would appease his guardian. Nothing would sway his viper like temper. His grand prank hadn't been meant for amusement.

"Go ahead." He waved with one hand. "I'm not stopping you."

Paul floundered for a moment, his mouth opening and closing quite a number of times, and he drew back tensely. "I can't explain."

Nisroc nodded stiffly. "Well, then, let me explain." He leans forward quickly, uncrossing his arms on one fluid motion, and slams his hand down on the desk. "What have I told you about playing those pranks of yours!"

"It was just a prank!"

"It was malicious!" He points a finger up at him. "And you know it!"

"Well, he deserved it! He's been poking and poking! It's about time someone did something!"

"You should have come to me. I would have handled it."

Paul shoots from his seat, leaning over the desk, poking him harshly in the chest. "Yea, you would've taken on a new pet project! That's how you handle it! Sasha told me all about little Donavon!"

"I don't need your permission to take someone under my wing." He speaks stiffly, his fingers flexing into fists, and he looks up at him with a heat in his eyes. "Step back. Lower your finger. And watch how you speak to me."

"Why! You going to 'take me under your wing' too!"

"I don't need to take you under my wing." He stands with him, calmly, his anger a slow burning fire. "I've already claimed you. You are mine. And you will not disrespect me."

"Oh yea! What are you gonna do!"

Nisroc huffs, nodding his head as he crosses out from behind his desk, and Paul watches him silently as he crosses passed him, his eyes widening when he reaches for the extra belt hanging on the hook near the door. "Allow me to show you what I'm going to do about it."

"Nis no! No! Nis don't!"

"Oh, where is this big bad young man, now?" He takes him by the arm. "The one who thinks they can do so disrespectful to me and not worry about the consequences."

Paul stumbles as he's forced around, hands grappling to pull the hand off from around his arm and to cover his bottom for protection. "No! No, Nis! I'm sorry! It won't happen again!"

"No, it won't, over." He's pushed against the desk, and Paul braces himself against it. "Nis, no! Let's talk about this!"

"We are done talking. I was going to let you go with a mere scolding. But then you had to get mouthy."