It had been years since Tetradore had slept soundly through the night. Years since he had gone without waking from chilling nightmares, the call of his mistress, or his pack demanding his attention at odd hours. His body had all too exhaustedly relished in that peaceful tranquility of the night. With the heavy warmth of those blankets surrounding him, the quietness of that large estate, and the warmth of the sunshine that filtered through the large windows and heavy curtains as the fire crackled and roared in the hearth. He could scarcely be bothered to rise, not until well past those acceptable morning hours. Pulling himself out of that bed was exceedingly difficult, only further hampered by the sheer amount of objects within that room he found himself both reminiscing on and questioning entirely. Half dressed, Tetradore found himself drawn from the rest of his clothes by the objects scattered on the shelves, many of those childish toys and magazines wholly lost on the man. Why they had been left there, much less what their meaning, was a mystery, one he had little intention of unraveling in the morning. Rather, the were-King set about finishing that act of dressing, after some rifling through the bag that had been packed for him.

Finding his way through the estate was challenging, if only for how foreign the estate was to the were-King. He hardly knew which corridor and which room led to where, the man relying fully on his memory of that path Matteo had taken him on yesterday when his mind had already been laden with sleep. He supposed, however, that the chateau wasn't much larger than his own floating cargo ship, at least as far as size of the home alone. The grounds were a whole different affair. Eventually, Tetradore found a staircase that looked somewhat familiar (though maybe they all looked the same?) and, perhaps thanks to sheer luck, the very living room he was searching for. His emerald eyes settled upon Matteo as his adoptive father lounged nonchalantly upon the sofa. The were-King half collapsed into the accent chair near the Frenchman, as if that walk alone had been too much as it was. His gaze shifted towards that peculiar tan colored...thing beside Matteo. Though he could tell enough it was a dog, he could hardly stop that question on exactly what type, the little hound was the oddest breed he'd ever seen.

His voice alone seemed to prompt some measure of movement within Matteo, that book was gently closed before his fingers reached for that peculiar puppy. The touch alone seemed to prompt the dog-thing to life, only for those tiny eyes to turn upon Tetradore himself. His eyebrow rose ever so slightly at that greeting he was presented with, much less the dog's name and intention to guard the magnificent estate - as if it could be terrifying in any fashion. "Guard.....dog?" He inquired as Herbert rose to his tiny feet, half jumping and half flopping from the sofa and onto the floor. His emerald eyes followed the little hound as he waddled quickly towards him, the dog's entire rear end wiggling in some ecstatic fashion before his front paws rose to settle on the edge of his own sofa. Tetradore merely eyed the dog wearily, as if he was hardly sure what it wanted, much less it's entire purpose in life. That sigh caused his gaze to rise towards Matteo as the man rose, crossing that small space only to lift the dog up and place it next to him, where it clearly wanted to be. He hardly expected the animal to quite near crawl into his lap, only to look up at him with this goofy sort of look of utter enthusiasm. He'd never known a single animal to be so....happy. And for no good reason at all.

A soft sigh left his own lips as he reached up, his hand settled upon the dog's head in those pets Herbert clearly desired. He could hardly help that soft chuckle on his lips at Matteo's sarcasm, his own head bobbed readily in agreement. "He's quite the little fighter." Tetradore uttered in a clearly bemused fashion. He was unaware, in those moments, to the way Matteo so seemed to eye him, from the Corgi in his lap to his tousled, unbrushed brunette locks. Those emerald eyes glanced upwards only at that accented question and yet, Tetradore offered little more than a shrug in response. "I suppose so." Though he had enjoyed those hours of rest he had been afforded, it was entirely within Tetradore's nature to simply downplay those emotions entirely - be it positive or negative. For decades, those emotions had been used against him, prompting the were-King to retreat within himself. His own apathy had only just begun to unravel with his freedom from Risque and yet, with her return, so too did his old tendencies. After all, for years he had been denied this very home, his presence here likely fleeting before the were-feline was returned to that prison he had grown up in. It was best, he was sure, to now allow himself to enjoy the blissfulness of this place too much.

He was oblivious, in that moment, that the excitement and mischievousness that radiated from the Frenchman was for his own benefit. Tetradore was simply used to such light-heartedness from Matteo after all these years. In his adulthood, after he'd gotten over those years of sobbing at the results of Risque's handiwork, his adoptive father tended to resort to that more impish demeanor without the immediate need to reassure the feline. That inquiry of his plans for the week, however, prompted a small shrug from the man's shoulders, anticipated though it was. "I'm not sure what there is to do in the first place." He admitted. Unlike most, he had hardly bothered to do any sort of research on what France might have as way of sights. Tourism was a concept that was all but lost on him - what did people do when they visited foreign locations? Well, he knew what Matteo did, at the very least and yet, Tetradore had little interest at the present moment to fulfil those more carnal needs. It seemed his own uncertainty was a probability Matteo had already prepared for, unsurprisingly. That foresight had a tendency to prompt a preemptive preparedness within the Frenchman. Sometimes, it annoyed Tetradore to no end. Today, however, was not one of those days.

His head bobbed ever so slightly at the idea of visiting the town and those very sights Matteo wished to share with him, the feline relatively on board - at least, until the mention of that singular requirement. His own eyebrow arched upwards in a small display of suspicion and yet, he hardly had time to retort before that the sound of that chuckle cut through his own skepticism. That teasing remark prompted a snort from his nose, the were-King rolled his eyes in a much anticipated response as Matteo so utilized his own teleporting ability to disappear from that sofa. That remark called from hallway prompted a grumble from Tetradore. "You're ridiculous." He uttered under his breath, only to see the fae's head pop around the corner as Matteo once again attempted to get him up and moving. An exasperated sigh left his lips as he reached down, moving Herbert from his lap before he rose to his feet, trailing after Matteo with a fleeting glimpse of annoyance.

aiden tetradore