There was little doubt that, despite his bulk and height, Tetradore still held several of those feline tendencies even within that human flesh. He had a habit of so stalking rather than the loud boisterous steps of some of his gender. His fingers moved with a delicateness over her flesh, attempting to ensure he caused her no further harm as he peeled her lithe frame from that tight fitting suit, letting the fabric simply gather upon the floor. He could see well the evidence of those wounds that had once littered her frame and yet, the man saw no reason to voice any word of it. After all, she was mortal, her species lacked the superior healing of his kind and, given what he'd gathered from the plethora of weapons downstairs and the gym she had created within her very own home - the woman was into some rather dangerous affairs. This discovery was, perhaps, not all that surprising. He stepped away from her in that moment of vulnerability, the man afforded himself but a small glimpse of her pale, bare flesh before he turned, intending to give the woman some effort of privacy. He hardly expected the sounds of disgruntled muttering that left her lips, those words momentarily saw his retreat pause, his eyebrows furrowing ever so slightly. "Why?" He inquired briefly, altogether failing to understand her thought process at all. Was she that upset of that vampire taking her blood? She had already informed him that wound beneath that red cloth was from the work of rogue hunters. Why was that not a fair trade? Hell, it was better than what he'd often endured at Risque's hands. The once mistress had taken and taken and taken from him and given him far less than that in return.

His head shook ever so slightly, trying to dismiss those lingering thoughts as he instead muttered that, if she needed him, he would remain here a bit longer to ensure she was at least capable of tending to her wounds. Instead, Tetradore made his way back towards that small living room, closing the bedroom door behind him as he moved down that hallway onto to settle on that sofa table. That peculiar woman in the room next door remained steadfast upon his mind, however, even as he sipped that beer in an entirely lackadaisical fashion. Truthfully, he hardly understood her in the slightest. She seemed so full of hate and, in turn, so eager to dispense it upon the world at large. It was as if she had a vendetta against everyone - as if something had happened to her, though what he hadn't the slightest of notions. It was a shame really, she was rather pretty, when she was caught without that continual scowl upon her features. He could hear the water running in the room next door, his head tilting inquisitively. He remained where he was, his gaze trailing through the apartment as if in some search of something that might shed light on the female. Maybe her and her family? A boyfriend? And yet, the room seemed...bare of any sort of identifying anything. It was curious really.

It was the soft sound of his name upon her lips that caused Tetradore to glance upwards. A small frown crossed his lips and yet, the were-king rose all the same, making his way towards that bathroom. "Sure." He uttered simply, stepping into the room after her. Tetradore was all too aware of that soft pink hue that crossed her cheeks and yet, he hardly voiced a word on it. It was silly really, the way that embarrassment and almost timid hint that the girl's nudeness brought out within her so peculiarly attracted him. Regardless, he reached out to grab that still heated, damp towel. "Turn around." He voice softly, waiting till she complied before softly brushing her shoulders with that material, entirely unsure of what he would find when the blood was removed. For several moments he simply worked at that crusted substance before he commented in the same thoughtful sincerity. "You need to be more careful, Vhalla. You could have gotten hurt far worse than this." He hardly knew why he cared so much of the danger she threw herself in. Maybe because it was needless. Maybe because he saw no point in simply wasting her life in the fashion she was. Hell, he doubted it hardly mattered to her what he thought and perhaps he had no room to speak, so leading the fighting arena like he did and yet they were different then her. Fragile, strong-willed, and lovely as she was.