Fahloadh stood quietly. He briefly considered barking in the hope that the sudden noise would shock the others into some sort of silence and eventually, some form of composure, but he didn't. He had a feeling it would only make things worse. These sorts of squabbles were common for Fairy Tail, even the meagre two months he had been with the guild had shown him that much, but Master Makarov had always been there to calm things down. Now, with him gone, it was up to the new guild leader to take on that role. Nudging Laxus' hand silently, Faoladh hoped he conveyed enough meaning with the gesture. It was one thing to be [I]voted[/I] the new guild leader, but taking the initiative to quell such discontent would speak volumes amongst the other members. It wouldn't be so much an attempt at replacing Master Makarov, rather honoring the methods he used to hold the guild together.

With that silent gesture, however, Faoladh felt he had said his peace. If Laxus couldn't figure it out on his own, what good was it for Faoladh to point it out to him? At the very worst if he did so the other guild members would start voting for [i]him[/i] to be the next guild leader, and that was something that Faoladh definitely did not want.
Using his keen dog senses, Faoladh followed the scent of Skye to the tree she had run off too. While he didn't particularly agree with her outburst, he could certainly agree with where it had come from; a place of grief and mourning. Ridding oneself of grief was one aspect of a funeral, yes, but it wasn't going to be accomplished by mourning the fact that they had to choose a new leader for the guild. No matter how Skye felt in that moment, Faoladh couldn't help but feel that all the votes that had been cast had been cast with a heavy heart.
If anything, Faoladh felt that the best way to rid the guild of grief was to celebrate the life of Master Makarov; an evening of drinking, revelry and storytelling of their fondest memories of [i]all[/i] their fallen brothers and sisters. An evening of laughter, tears and healing. Not a funeral, but a wake.

Faoladh didn't say these things, however, as he approached Skye, namely because he was still in his Dog Form. Had he been human, he wouldn't have voiced such opinions either. They were his own and he was dealing with his grief in his own way while Skye was dealing with hers in her own. Curling up beside her, Faoladh didn't attempt to nuzzle up to her or rest his head against her, rather he just lay there beside her silently as she cried, his fur wet from the rain, looking back towards the courtyard.