It is the fault of the sales people perhaps, that the situation had evidently spiralled only further downward in the wake of their call to Birdie, Tobias entirely content to remain seated upon his chosen leather couch, so long in Syn perhaps having resulted in an understanding that such places were designed entirely for sitting for long periods, dark eyes trained upon the falling rain. He merely ignored the muttering of the store staff, there whispers far quieter in the wake of the thrown purse and his evident displeasure in being referred to by certain phrases. His grasp of language is decidedly poor and yet there exist certain words, tones or phrases he has come to understand entirely to well- this notion of his own sanity, or lack thereof, an evidently distressing facet to the boy even if he does not comprehend the phrase entirely, having learned only that it was negative in some fashion. His outburst, at least, had resulted in a significantly more wary group of staff members. It was their collective determination to address the price of the damaged purse however that would seem to have been the final straw in the lanky deviants poor patience. The mans demand that he pay for the overly expensive item had resulted in little more then a volatile shift in the younger mans nature. He merely desired to be left alone, had become used to those around him respecting him and as such the intrusion of one man in particular into his space had resulted in little more then an almost cyclonic temper tantrum that had seen the store staff scatter beneath the collective destruction of nearly every item in the store and the Leopard taking refuge beneath the toppled shelves and bags in a manner almost spiteful. Muttering to himself belligerently, oblivious to the panic occurring outside and the rapidly approaching police vehicles.

It is the scent of her that seems to end his tirade of muttered words, dark eyes lifted suddenly from the patterns within the wood that have so seized his fascination, peering beneath endless dark locks in search of his companion before she appears within the door of his makeshift cave, her presence alone permitted as each muscle eases into calm and he simply returns to tracing the lines within the wood, content to allow the woman beside him. Her grasp upon his hand sees his gaze lift suddenly once more, fingers caressing his that place behind one ear that very near results in the Leopard melting beneath her touch, Tobias laying himself down in the fashion only a cat can truly manage- eyes narrowed in agitation should the woman dare to stop the touch he so enjoys. The question she poses towards him earns her little more then a glare, as if the answer is so entirely obvious she should well have discovered it alone, one hand lifting to point back towards the window visible beneath the piled shelves and Prada bags.

"It....is raining....and I do not....want...the water to....get me."

His extreme dislike of any liquid not contained in a coffee cup or other container is hardly unknown, his dislike of rain perhaps facilitated even further by Tetradores determination to drive them everywhere in the case of rain- only further assuring the boy it is hardly correct to walk about in it, his loathing of wet having resulted in his taking the nearest and warmest shelter. Her question in regards to the mess is met with little more then a very irritating and highly boyish shrug of utter indifference, Tobias determined to remain belligerent on this matter- his utter lack of empathy clearly displayed in this moment, mind far to tired to bother to try and pretend he is given to care as to the utter destruction around him. His mood, it would seem, has begun to hang preciously in the balance of reluctantly helpful and outright antagonism, the boy notoriously difficult when he chooses to be- the actions of the store staff having pressed him further and further towards this far less helpful state of mind.You need to get him out of this store and you need to pay for every single thing he has damaged- the police are on their way now.

The voice of the store manager from somewhere amongst the remains of the shop itself, see a hissing growl rise within his throat once more, the young man content to sit up from his previously relaxed position, agitation filling each line of his features before those dark eyes return to his companion once.

"Is it.....raining still?"

Even the threat of police it would seem, will not sway the boy from his determination to avoid he rain.

madness, as you know, is like gravity: all it takes is a little push