Tetradore was aware of that small shift from the young woman as he stared at that screen before them. He was already expecting a rebuff of sorts, particularly when he questioned her own species capabilities to take down that ferocious creature of the forest. Truthfully, Tetradore was hardly playing sides. He hardly held any sort of affection or predisposition for the Tiger due to their shared parent family of species. He was merely judging that fight as a fighter so naturally would - the odds were not particularly within the pack's favor if they wished to come out of that battle unscathed. They cared too greatly for their young and with so many around, the likelihood of the feline culling the weak younglings first was far too high. Even so, he eyed that snarky grin upon her features with a raised brow, the man entirely aware that the faith she held in her kind was near unwavering. Wolves - the loyalty they had in their pack was astounding. A small shrug crossed his shoulders at her insistence, his own gaze turned towards the television again as he answered in a wholly vague fashion, hardly seeing a reason to fight her on this. "Perhaps."

He eyed that blinded tiger with a certain sort of consideration and yet, that emotional closeness that those creatures managed to invoke within his companion quite failed to touch his own heart. His own world view had jaded the man, incredibly so even as he eyed that movie that played across the scene. He watched with a certain level of understanding as that tiger so threatened the rest of those wolf pups. He watched those giant monkeys with their greed as they made an effort to chase that panther and bear. Throughout that incredible adventure that should have prompted him to root for Mowgli's perseverance, Tetradore merely eyed the boy with a look of indifference and wordlessly questioned just why so many within that jungle wanted that mere boy as if he was some great possession to own. How much life had changed since that time he'd watched those movies as a boy. That magic that was crafted in those movies had somehow gotten lost between those years of captivity and cruelty. It was only that idle comment that the boy surely should have been dead, however, that prompted Tetradore's own thoughts of that boy and his continued existence against all odds.

He was hardly surprised that even Mira was willing to admit that it was quite the miracle that Mowgli had even managed to live this long, living amongst a den full of predators. Perhaps amongst the were such a thing was feasible but with animals like this? It was highly doubtful. His own kind, after all, surely would have eaten a crying, vulnerable, helpless babe if hungry enough. But to bring it to the wolves and too have them take care of it even during the chilled temperatures of the winter when food was scarce? Not to mention the change in those temperatures and the boy's lack of proper clothing to handle such a thing. It was laughable and yet, Tetradore was vastly more obsessed with considering all the ways such a story would never happen that he had hardly considered the way Mira seemed to be eying that ebony panther. Even so, the man could hardly help that near teasing comment of the female wolf's intelligence, his own gaze wholly settled on the woman at his side as she so wrinkled her nose.

That press of her foot against his prompted a soft chuckle from his lips as he shrugged ever so slightly. "I don't know, Bagheera brought her a gift and she didn't even eat it. I might be insulted." He was teasing her, certainly, and yet he could hardly help it when she seemed so...focused upon that relationship between mother and child. He could only guess it stemmed from her own relationship with her mother and yet, he hardly had it in him to ask after such a thing. Rather, he allowed that silence to drift between them as that movie continued, the were's attention swayed from that television only by that sudden touch of warm at his side. His gaze darted towards that woman beside him, the man almost surprised to see her eyes closed as she near leaned into his form. He watched her for several moments - he watched that rise and fall of her chest in a near peaceful fashion before, slowly, Tetradore shifted. His arm looped over her waist, the man willingly drawing her closer and against his chest. How long had it been, truly, since he had held someone like this? It must have been before he died...it had been almost a year ago and yet...the woman currently within his arms could hardly be further from that fairy girl he'd once called his own. How time changed things.