The very warmth of the sun on his short, ebony coat was nothing shy of absolutely glorious. With the dampness that still covered his frame, Tetradore found a newfound appreciation to the heat of the day. His emerald eyes watched for several moments as Matteo left him to fret over the contents of the picnic basket, allowing the Were-King those few sweet moments of peace to coax that shift to overcome him, even though the feline within him would have loved nothing more than merely lounging on the checkered blanket. Food, it seemed, won out in the end. His stomach, even despite the feast that had been breakfast, was beginning to growl from such frequent and sustained uses of his own affinities. It wasn't often, after all, that Tetradore was required to use his powers so much. He pulled on the cotton of his undergarments. His skin was still wet, prompting some fighting with his jeans before the man pulled the thin material of his shirt back onto his broad shoulders. He all but flopped back onto the warm blanket, content to watch the food Matteo continued to pluck from the depths of his basket. It amused him, admittedly, that the French seemed so taken with cold cut meats and cheeses. The salad was quickly ignored at the very sight of those sweets he so eternally craved. That cake, after all, was nothing short of astounding. The very presence of it prompted a soft sound of anticipation from his lips.

His emerald eyes watched as Matteo reached forward to light a small flickering flame upon the cake, followed quickly by a small, wrapped box. His eyebrow rose ever so slightly as he reached for the secondary present, one Matteo so wordlessly provided him with permission to open. His fingers plucked at the wrapping paper, only to reveal a small velveteen box. With a flick of the lid, Tetradore found himself staring at a rather inquisitive set of rosary beads. The Alpha's eyebrows furrowed ever so slightly and yet, he hardly had to question after the gift before Matteo felt fit to inform him of its purpose. After all, Tetradore was hardly known for his staunch religious beliefs, especially in the face of his own traumatic history. Though he had been raised as a child with the faith - Tetradore had found himself quickly losing any belief in the God that Matteo eternally remained devoted to. It was, however, the curious history of the necklace and the fact that it had, once, been Matteo's own that held some sort of true meaning. The watch upon his wrist had belonged to his own father, and now, he too had an item from the very man who had raised him - one that he could actually keep.

He placed the wooden rosary over his neck, letting it rest amongst the Pheonix pendent that both cursed and blessed him so greatly. He hardly dwelled upon the necklaces for very long, however, the man instead far more caught up on those words Matteo had given him. His inquiry of how the rosary had gifted the elder fae hope prompted a contemplative glimpse upon the fae's own features. He knew, naturally, how long Matteo had been within the French army, much less of the very number of wars the fae had fought within at Alexander's side. He had not, however, considered the very guilt that might too afflict Matteo at the lives he had both taken, and the ones he had watched suffer. It was, admittedly, a notion that Tetradore understood well. He had seen far more souls then he cared to admit die thanks to Risque's cruel desires. It was, perhaps, not on the same magnitude as war but a life loss and one violent taken was still...difficult all the same. His own head bobbed in clear understanding, even if he failed to grasp just yet how the rosary beads had made such remorse any better.

It was almost peculiar to consider an age in which Matteo found his powers as unwieldy as Tetradore's own could sometimes be. The Frenchman was so distinctly old and sophisticated that Tetradore himself had never once witnessed such moments of failings. Still, he supposed that once upon a time, Matteo had been young too. His emerald eyes slowly drifted down to the darkly colored beads around his neck at the elder fae's gesture and yet, he was hardly prepared for the true connotation behind such a present, even if he had vaguely grasped its purpose in some fashion. How many times had Tetradore himself sat on the brink of complete and utter desolation? How many times had he contemplated the meaninglessness to his own life, if not for the amusement of the vampire who all but owned him? How many times had he so feebly attempted to assure himself that, maybe, at least Matteo would miss him if he succumbed to that brink of death that he had been pushed to so many times over and over again? He knew, at that moment, just how true his companion's lyrics were. "Sometimes it does," Tetradore responded in agreement, his own voice was decidedly distracted, thanks largely to those thoughts of the past that so pulled at him.

Tetradore was, admittedly, almost relieved as the conversation shifted to far lighter topics. His own stomach near growled with a renewed hunger for the chocolate tart in front of him. He leaned forward, blowing out the flickering little light with a singular breath, only to comment on the very elaborateness of the tart. Although tarts in themselves were not foreign to the Alpha, after so many birthdays spent with Matteo, he had never quite seen the fae go to such extents as this before. The very idea of having thirty-one candles upon it, however, prompted a ready laugh upon Tetradore's lips. "Do you even have room for that many on there? How would you even light them?" He inquired, willing enough to entertain the idea for a short amount of time. He took the knife offered to him, cutting through the tart in one smooth movement as Tetradore went about picking a rather large piece for himself, one he fully intended to indulge within. His body, after all, surely needed to replenish its own energy. His vibrant emerald eyes shifted upwards at the sound of his companion's voice. That question for pepper caused his gaze to shift, searching for the grinder amongst the plates.

Tetradore reached for the pepper, handing his faux father the grinder with a singular word upon his lips. "Bread?" His intention to hold the pepper grinder hostage in exchange for bread was surely clear. After all, though he had a rather large slice of chocolate tart upon his plate, Tetradore did intend to eat more than his birthday tart. It was only with his slice of bread in hand that Tetradore turned his attention towards the meat platter, layering that bread with deli slices and cheese with the clear intention of making a far more traditional sandwich of sorts. All the while, his attention remained resolutely upon his faux father as Matteo spoke of what he had discovered from the friend he had visited after Tetradore had first shown off is own ability for teleportation. The mention of this 'shadow stream'. However caused his eyebrows to furrow as he shook his head, indicating that this was a world he had not heard of. He was more than content to nibble upon his bread and meat cheese creation whilst Matteo spoke and yet, the very idea of some shadow realm created within him a plethora of considerations upon the forefront of his mind.

"If this shadow stream is a separate world that runs parallel to our own, does it have its own...life forms? Do we have any idea of what we'd be up against if we did manage to find this place?" It was an intriguing theory, he supposed, even if Tetradore was entirely unsure of how it might make his teleportation faster. Surely he'd have to use shadows in order to slip into that alternate world too, wouldn't he? Would it not be the same then as teleporting only upon this plane of existence? At the very least it was worth the experimentation of trying of only for the novelty of it all. "How do we teleport to a world we've never seen?" He inquired, musing on the idea all the same. After all, up to this point, Tetradore had required a distinct place to go - a picture of the area so he knew where to orientate himself. Would it not be dangerous to visit a world full of shadows? Would they not lose themselves in the effort to do so? And, perhaps importantly of all, would Risque's control over him be capable of crossing whole worlds? It was tempting to tease the idea that, perhaps Tetradore did not belong in this version of the world when there was another available to him.

aiden tetradore