Had he perhaps been aware of the woman's lack of attachment to the furniture he rested upon, perhaps he would have remained entirely content extend his claws into the fabric, to trip and tear and stretch himself as only a cat can in sheer delight at the sensation between his fingers and against his palms. He is a sensory being, after all, living entirely upon instinct, so much of his human self lost within the abscess of animal need and desire that seems to pump thickly through his veins. Perhaps- had his young life not been so wretchedly traumatic, perhaps had he not been ripped away from Tetradore so young, had his childhood pack not been burned and destroyed and the boy outcast upon the streets at barely five years old before his imprisonment by the vampire woman whom continued to serve then...he may well have been different, may well have grown beyond the creature whom wears the body of a man and yet seems stuck within a childish mindset, as if the loss of his family pack had simply seen his growth stop and altered at that very point- at least in the sense of mentality and yet perhaps he had done simply as Fae herself in some regards, done what was needed to survive. He became the animal- for it is far easier to leave as a beast then a boy- even if he has paid terribly for such a choice, his mannerisms odd, his language broken, his nature unpredictable, feral...wild and yet beneath such layers he exists still- somewhere. The sudden chuckle she offers sees those comical black tipped ears swing forward atop his head, poking out beneath lashings of unkempt ebony, head tilting almost like a curious puppy at the sound, so high-pitched and sweet all at once, the boy seeming near delighted with it as he makes some attempt to mimic it. His attempt however, sounds more like a rasping of air as his features contort into a frown at the lack of similarity between the sounds before he seems to give up entirely, intrigued further by her lack of pack.

"Fae is....alone."

It is not a question, not truly, the man seemingly content to state it and little else, as if placing such knowledge within his mind for future reference, spoken allowed simply to solidify it before he moves to close that small gap of distance between them, any knowledge of personal space lost upon him entirely, oblivious to the fact the young woman may not appreciate his sudden approach though indeed the sudden tensing within her frame is hardly missed by the predatory young man, each movement watched warily from beneath his ever-tousled hair that never seems to have found a brush. He remains content to press this space barrier however, after all, he is a dominant creature, used to demanding such things, to having others submit before him or yield to his command and as such lacks any true respect for her personal territory. Respect with Tobias- must be earned and precious few have ever achieved it without laying the boy flat with a fist. Were's after all- respect strength, it is simply nature's way and indeed the boy has come to understand, incorrect though it may be- that women, more often then not, are beneath him, weaker and as such he sees no issues with doing as he pleases in this moment unless she should give him a reason to believe otherwise. Her scent is...different, unique, one he is assured he knows and yet does not all at once- the young man entirely intrigued as he allows an easy flick of his tail to brush her hair aside, a seemingly gentle gesture and yet one that allows him to study her further. Her reaction to his touch, momentary as it is, sees those fathomless dark eyes widen slightly. He does not...understand women, not well, is often frustrated in regards to his inability to understand what he desires from them, distracted once more when it is her gaze suddenly averts, the slender female standing suddenly.

Dark eyes follow her trail, curiosity continuing to linger as she snatches her keys into her hand, folding one finger either side of the steel though he hardly understands why this may be. The stiffness to her posture, those first few tastes of unease within the air are readily picked up on by the feline- a growl of sorts coiling within his throat, responding to what instinct assures may be a threat before she suddenly moves to place her key-blade behind her, straightening herself up once more in an effort to appear nonchalant. For a moment he simply continues to stare, eyes flicking from the woman to her hand, unease readily seeing his form shift nervously where he sits. It would hardly be the first time he has been hit with anything and yet the prospect of punishment for something he has not done has already begun to taint his tall frame with unease. He knows she has something behind her back and as such perhaps- she has managed to gleam some fathom of respect, the woman clearly prepared to defend herself, this unknown weapon perhaps forcing his own re-evaluation of the situation as he deliberately averts his own gaze, spreading his long, luxuriant tail before him as he moves to sit cross-legged upon the floor in some vague effort to appear nonthreatening.

"I am....not hungry. Won't....eat you. Won't hurt...you. Today."

That he may revoke this promise at some point cannot be assured, eyes flicking to her own for a moment before returning to focus upon his tail, fingers tracing from spot to spot within his own fur, lip quirking slightly upward in amusement at this seemingly mundane task before he suddenly speaks once more, no longer looking at her as he continues to trace his patterns, the boy adoring lines and spots- anything that repeats, his mind finding solace it when he can predict.

"Birdie....was alone too. Not pack- but now....she belongs...to me."

This is a seemingly random sentence holding no true connection to the conversation, as if he has simply chosen to state it for no true reason at all- the man often prone to such voicing's though indeed it is true enough. He has quite the liking for collecting people, for keeping those he finds of value for himself and Fae's ability to produce food has displayed some sort of value to the creature, the boy perhaps considering keeping her for himself as he does Birdie and Nadya and Tetra and Pretty. His possessions. His belongings. His people. Beautiful dark eyes flicker upwards once more, still waiting to hear what sort of creature she is before he speaks once more.

"Do you...want to play...a game?"

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