Thalia took the saucer from Calliope, grateful all over again for their eldest sister with her sensible words and her firm Looks. Thalia just wasn't good with conflict, not when it was between people she loved. Her own bubbling worries got in the way of words, and everything she said came out wrong, and then she'd try to smooth it over with a joke, and— she didn't think a joke would go over great right now. But Calliope was Eloquence itself; she always knew the right thing to say.
When Melpomene whirled on her, sharp words flying, Thalia shrank back, just a little. What were you doing with the knife? She had enough sense not to ask the question out loud, at least. Instead, a touch uncertainly, she ventured, "W-well. That... that makes it seven against one, right? No, eight, there's Apollo, too. So she can't win."