It was so habitual for Tetradore, the way in which he so fell into his own thoughts. It was the only place he'd found safety in those years he'd spent within that dance club and under Risque's reign. She might have been able to so control his physique, she might have beset his sight with her illusions to torment him, and yet, those thoughts he held were so preciously his alone. It had certainly contributed to how little he'd seen fit to speak when first meeting the young fairy but months ago and now, Tetradore found himself so returning to those same efforts to protect himself from the vicious world that so surrounded him. Death, destruction, pain, blood, it had all been his life for so long any memory he so possessed of those years contained a veritable variety of such dismal themes and now, keeping them so locked away within his mind and out of her touch was a struggle that Tetradore found himself miserably failing at. They so flashed through his mind, all the damage he had done throughout the years and too all the things she had done to him - things no one knew of but Tetradore himself.

Tetradore shifted ever so slightly at the young woman's cautious coaxing, turning ever so slightly to face her. He was all too aware of the touch of her body against his, her knees brushing against his own naked flesh, her fingers continuing those careful circles of affection that she seemed so determined to assault his already tired skin with. Though, to be frank, he was hardly sure if it was for his comfort, her own, or that newfound affinity to so draw such images from him. He hardly commented on it, however, his thoughts wholly more occupied with details and memories that were both far more important to his life and far more traumatic than the young fae Queen's efforts to so comfort and calm him. Still, there was a sort of otherworldliness to the room he found himself in. Here, everything was a shade of white and pink, so girly and carefree that it was such a sharp contrast to what his evening, and by extension to his life, had consisted of. It was that ability to fool himself that brought even the smallest glimpses of stillness to his overly anxious form. Regardless of such tension, however, Tetradore found himself voicing those answers to the questions that so carefully left her lips, the man saw little reason to hide from her that which he had endured, if only to make her understand her need to stay away from what he perceived as a threat to his very lifestyle and those within it.

It was that inquiry of his meeting that so drew yet another memory from those hordes of flickering images across the forefront of his brain. That night in the fire. God, he still remembered every moment of it. He remembered how hot it was. He remembered being scared. He remembered crying, calling for his parents. And then, amidst all that screaming and destruction and flame, he remembered her, reaching out to point her very finger at him. "She hunted me down. She'd been watching our pack for months and we hadn't noticed and then she chose me." His voice held nothing but emptiness to it as he so uttered those simple facts that had brought him into her care. "She liked my power best, and I was young and...impressionable. She burned the trees surrounding our pack's home, she killed so many of them just for the chaos it'd create to get to me." His voice trailed off ever so softly, his emerald eyes blinking in an effort to saw draw himself from the grisly details of that memory, the effort contributed only by another inquiry that fell from her lips. A small nod was all that was given in her direction, Tetradore hardly bothering to even ask after what she had seen or expand upon those nights he'd so abhorred. Instead, he allowed her fingertips to intertwine within his own as that final inquiry so left her lips. "I burned down the dance club we lived in at dusk. The alcohol helped spread the flames so we could escape." Those far more recent memories were somehow easier to relive for the man, especially after the discovery of his family on the outside waiting for him. It was funny really, how his life had come full circle - all complete with fire. How such flames became such crucial to those pivoting moments within his world.