It had become particularly taxing of late, to juggle those two strikingly different sides of his life. In those evening hours, that proverbial leash tightened around his neck like a noose. Under the sanctuary of the sun, he was left to run both his business and is pack in peace and yet, of late he had been simply too exhausted to see to not only their needs of him but also to his affairs outside of the metal walls of his floating empire. There was a certain comfort to be found within the Ark, fictitious and feeble though it was and yet, this afternoon, there was a certain sort of other satisfaction that the Western Were-King sought. It had been months since he had first ventured into the warm embrace of the eastern bakery. The weather had been far fouler and just as frigid, in its own way. He had relished, once, within those decadent chocolate cupcakes, just as he too had been spoiled with freshly baked cookies of his own choosing. The even, however, had gone wholly poorly on account of the weather, leaving Tetradore to reject that offer for hot chocolate with but the promise that he would, eventually, return to taste for himself the depths of that infamous beverage. That visitation, perhaps, equally as spurred by some underlying desire to expand that pack, foolhardy though it was.

A small shudder ran down his spine as he finally stepped out of that sleek navy Bugatti. How he despised the cold, that jacket pulled tighter to his frame made his way down the sidewalk towards that aptly, and perhaps uncreatively, named Bakery. A subtle simper toyed with the corners of his features, his eyes rolled at the very sign as he pulled open the Bakery, ducking into the warmth of the small establishment. His striking emerald irises roved over the occupants, though Tetradore hardly gave them any true ounce of his attention. Rather, it was that counter that drew his interest and yet, he was both disappointed and surprised by the individual behind those glass cases and counter. It was hardly the woman he had anticipated to see and yet, he neither had expected to see Henry's boyfriend there either. How...interesting. His hands settled within the depths of his pockets, a small nod given towards the man he knew would, undoubtedly, recognize him. Briefly, his gaze shifted towards the case as the woman in front of him paid for her coffee, skirting over those pastries in consideration. With Taliah's absence, he supposed there was little reason he couldn't simply indulge in the sweet treats available to him. Tobias, after all, had been beside himself with fretting over Tetradore's nightly absences, the boy would surely delight in a small glimpse of the joy that a cookie could bring.

The Were-King was so wholly distracted within his own internal considerations that he hardly noticed the woman in front of him, much less his own jacket upon her frame. It wasn't until she pivoted in place, her petite frame colliding into his firm silhouette as if she hadn't contemplated that a line might have formed behind her. His vibrant irises fluttered towards her, only for that glimpse of recognition to fill him quite at the same moment that it too flooded her own cerulean eyes. He watched as her mouth hung open in near-visible astonishment, even though his own features remained as stoic as ever - the man still every bit the master of hiding those emotions beneath layers of indifference. Still...Samantha. Once upon a time, he had tried to find her. He had tried to reach out to his contacts in New York and yet, finding one woman in a metropolis of that size had proved nigh impossible. He had never truly anticipated to see her again, though, by the look on her features, neither did she. Those stuttered words almost prompted a blank look to his features...it had been so long that he'd forgotten all that had changed in those few short years.

"Uh...yeah, I uh...." His eyebrows furrowed for a moment, almost uncertain as to what to tell her. How he had so managed to resurrect from death was a matter he had kept entirely to himself - one even his pack was ignorant of, though those queries had hardly been pressed hard upon him with the simple joy of his return. "...wasn't really dead." Tetradore offered, that explanation perhaps weak and surely prompting more questions and yet, the Were-King merely shrugged. He was, admittedly, rather unsure of what to say to the woman. After all, it had been years and they had both become different people in comparison to the last evening they had spent together on the Western Docks. "Um....how was New York?" He offered finally, that pause surely near bordering upon awkward.