Like his mother? Walburga was five, she wasn't afraid to tell you what she was thinking. She didn't like to be quiet, she liked kicking Pollux in the shins. Her moods changed by the hour. She was a child, and Sirius very much reflected his own youth. But Pollux was also young, despite his attempts to be an adult. He frowned at Sirius, letting the man--child--boy? Run through his emotions, then he raised a hand to stall him before he could continue. He looked uncomfortable.
It wasn't his place to correct Sirius. He was his grandson, yes.. but Sirius was older and propriety demanded Pollux defer to Sirius' age, and respect his elders. But it was difficult and awkward and what was the proper thing to do? Let him rage? Let him argue? Pollux exhaled another controlled breath, wary of Sirius' changing moods. He'd hate to hex him. His father would disapprove.. Arcturus would think it necessary.
"You put yourself in that situation," he said, "theoretically you'd be able to get yourself out of it." And when you couldn't, you asked for help. He shifted slightly, opening up his position a fraction so he could reach his wand if necessary. "There's no need to be angry."