Though returning to the pack and reclaiming the Ark had been Tetradore's primary priority, they were certainly not the only matters within his life to tend to. Samantha had, naturally, been particularly high upon his list and yet, he'd been wholly disappointed to discover she had left the city with scarce a trace left behind except the word that she was returning home. He had contemplated following the girl, but New York was a haystack and she was just one in a plethora of many. It was a fruitless effort, he knew well. His sibling, on the other hand, was another issue entirely. He was hardly oblivious to her fraternizing with the man whom had single handedly terrorized his pack - he could smell her scent upon the periphery of that house and, furthermore, within it. It had been a particularly disparaging moment, to know she had chosen his own murderer and yet, he could scarcely say he was terribly surprised. Tetradore himself had hardly been a figure within her life long - she had spent more time without him then with. Although her children were fathered by his Beta, it seemed she'd failed to make any meaningful connections with any whom made up his own little family. She had placed herself on the outside and, some point when he had not been looking, fell in love with his enemy.

Such was, perhaps, a facet he was unwilling to forgive and yet, she was still his family. She was the only blood relation he'd had left and his father had still made him promise, even as a mere boy, to take care of her. A soft sigh left Tetradore's lips as he put that new blue Bugatti in park on the curb in front of his sister's townhouse, watching in his rear view mirror as that toy truck stopped behind him. His recent purchases had been easy enough to get shipped to her house, even if said shipping method was decidedly unorthodox. The boxes alone never would have fit within that sports car and yet, they were willing enough to oblige him at the right price. Tetradore got out of that vehicle, instead taking up his position to lean against the side of that white wash truck. His emerald eyes watched as four large boxes came from it's depths, each one placed upon the sidewalk with care before the two men simply offered him a questioning glance that seemed to say 'now what?'.

He gestured with his head towards the door, his gaze slowly turning away from the men and towards the front of that house. The were-king watched from his position as the two workers brought those heavy boxes up the pathway, climbing those steps to the front of the townhouse only to knock upon that door to his sister's home. He knew it wasn't much, really, the contents within those colorful boxes and yet, he was trying to make up for the fact that he had missed Christmas, not to mention that he had been gone for nearly five months. Even so, Tetradore hardly stepped upon his sibling's property. After all, she had willingly given herself to Frost and he still had his pack to care for. To be frank, he wanted to provide that foreigner little reason to assault his makeshift family any further than he already had. Even though, he knew well that this small gesture to his sister would no doubt get to Frost's ears and, perhaps, undo all those months of midnight hauntings he had actively participated within to instill some sense of fear within the prey animal. However, Nadya was a commitment that went beyond his own selfish desires, at least, to an extent, anyways.