A visible frown tugged the corners of Tetradore's lips, his arms crossed over his chest as he surveyed the sodden fields before him. The downpour above continued to splatter loudly against the vinyl of his raincoat, though the cold winds still cut through the water-resistant fabric and to his quickly chilling skin. God, how he hated being outside in the rain. The man was entirely incapable of understanding the glee that seemed to provoke such erratic dancing within the goats that hopped from his father's stone hedge to the muddied fields underfoot. They were entirely undeterred by the dismal weather when Tetradore himself wished nothing more than to be inside! Had it not been for Matteo, he likely would not have left the warm comfort of his bean bag at all. A soft breath left his lips, his own soured thoughts accompanied only by his father's equally disgruntled voice at the fate of his waterlogged fields. Frankly, Tetradore failed to see how even crops could have survived the weather, regardless of the goats that had consumed whatever leafy green bits they could find. He hardly voiced such a thought, however, Matteo's cantankerous mood prompted little more than silence within the Hispanic if only for how rare it was to see his father in such a state in the first place.

The Alpha eyed the scowl upon the Frenchman's feature as he listened to the foreign lit of Matteo's voice. Those instructions were answered with little more than a small nod of acknowledgment as he trailed into the muck after Matteo - the mud already coating the underside of his shoes and soiling the hem of his jeans. His movements, even as a man, contained a sort of feline grace as Tetradore headed towards his designated side of the large field - the goats eying him wearily all the while, even as they continued their prancing at what they deemed an acceptable distance. Tetradore was hardly as inclined as his father to chase after the devilish creatures, the man far more content to curse at them as he waved his arms, frightening the creatures into fleeing towards the hole in the fence. It was, admittedly, hardly as effective of a tactic. Several of those goats circled around him as if this was a magnificently fun game of avoidance that they excelled at, one of them bleeting at him in an almost antagonistic manner. His less than stellar performance, however, hardly went unnoticed by Matteo - the Frenchman far more adept at the art of animal husbandry than the were-feline...ironically.

The very sound of Matteo's rich laughter drew the vibrant hue of Tetradore's gaze from the final vexing creatures. He glowered at the sheer suggestion of running after the godforsaken animals, the Were-King more than willing to answer that instruction with cursing. Those hellish creatures were hardly worth the effort to exert himself, he was sure, particularly when he had far more...practical capabilities. Effortlessly he called to his own affinities, those shadows rushing to envelop him only for Tetradore to reappear but moments after behind the two goats that were giving him such a headache. His very appearance started the two small creatures, the miniature goats racing away from him as they cried out in panic at his sudden presence. Thankfully, the goats bolted into the pasture they belonged in, Matteo quickly reaching out to touch the fence behind them. Stone and wood securely resettled at the mere brush of the Frenchman's fingers, leaving the two staring at the herd of goats that hardly seemed to notice the end to the enjoyment. Such creatures, frankly, seemed far more like his father then he suspected Matteo was willing to admit - eternally impish no matter where they were.

For a moment, the vivid emerald of Tetradore's gaze turned towards the enigmatic silver of his father's, the rain all but soaking his face in the process. Somewhere, in his effort to terrify those goats back into captivity, his own hood had fallen back, leaving his usually fluffy locks in stringy disarray that clung to his caramel cheeks. Both men appeared as if they'd ventured into the depths of a mud pit - the dirt and grime coating far more of their pants than Tetradore was willing to admit was comfortable. How he was looking forward to returning to the warmth of the chateau! It was unfortunate that the very moment the sentiment left Matteo's lips, the pair were echoed with an altogether pathetic sound. The mere vulnerability of it saw Tetradore's irises turn towards the goats that still lingered just on the other side of the fence - those creatures merely staring up at him in some peculiar mixture of awe and hope and disappointment. That questioning glance from Matteo prompted his shoulders to rise in a vague shrug, the Alpha more than willing to leave those goats to their fate in favor of a hot shower. It was almost...unfortunate...that his father was not as eager.

It hardly took long for the Frenchman to find the source of that pitiful cry, the nearby bush holding within its very depths the sight of a muddied, hardly distinguishable...thing that just...cried at them. It's very efforts to escape only further resulted in it further getting hopelessly entangled within the branches and vines - causing a soft, resigned sigh to leave Aiden's lips. He had been reduced to goat rescuer, hadn't he? He hardly had to hear Matteo's inquiry before Tetradore was bending down to reach his hands into the branches Matteo held aside, the creature hardly staying still, despite his very efforts. It took several moments of prying and snapping at the bush before he was able to pull the tiny goat from the depths of its foliaged prison - the small thing no larger than the palm of his hand! It shook violently in the wet, cold weather, the Alpha entirely inclined to pull the small animal closer towards his chest and natural warmth. With the kid in hand, Tetradore found his gaze turning questioningly towards his father, looking for some insight on what to do with the thing.

That almost contemplative look to the Frenchman's features prompted a curious glance from Aiden, though he said nothing of it as Matteo listened for any syllable that might speak of the goat's mother. In their shared distraction, Tetradore had hardly noticed the goat's sudden revelation that there was surely more heat to be found - at least, that was until the thing successfully managed it's struggling effort to escape his grasp and climb into his jacket. The very sensation of it all drew Tetradore's gaze down towards the goat as he inquired what the hell the damn thing was up to - not that he terribly expected any response. He let the tiny thing continue in its efforts, however, the goat curled up against him only to poke its small head out in the hole between the buttons of his rain jacket. A soft sigh left his lips as Matteo reached out to brush a single finger against the creature's head - Tetradore all but capable of feeling the dampness of the goat as it soiled his shirt with it's...wet.....muddiness. The things he did....for goats. The teasing tone to his father's voice, however, drew his gaze upwards towards the Frenchman, Tetradore incapable of helping the roll to his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, whatever." He grumbled, falling into step beside Matteo towards the long gravel path out of Chambord.

He followed Matteo through the large gates of the estate, the pair trekking along the sidewalk in the rain and towards the smaller estate 'next door' if it could truly be called that with the extensive grounds that Chambord covered. Nevertheless, Tetradore was entirely caught off guard by Matteo's sudden warning that his neighbor was...curious...and apparently untrustworthy. His brow rose inquisitively, "Okay....?" Tetradore responded, half in agreement and half in suspicion of the very man he was about to meet. Who, after all, could prompt such weariness within his own father? The man who fought against the greats of history and turned the tide of civilizations? That question, however, was one he'd gain an answer to soon enough as the pair headed up a stone staircase and towards a rather large verandah, the very sanctuary it offered from the rain was one he was content to treasure. His stare hand reached up, gingerly stroking the top of the goat's head in a rare glimpse of...betraying affection for the tiny thing - the kid's once violent shivering had subsided with the sheer heat his Were body naturally gave off.

The pair stood in front of those large, heavy doors for several moments before any sound reached their ears of movement within the estate. Tetradore could hear several locks clicking behind the oak doors before, finally, it opened to reveal a middle-aged man....in an evening suit. His brow rose ever so slightly and yet, even that was hardly as surprising as the simple instinctual knowledge that he was a vampire. The very curl of the man's lips caused Tetradore's emerald eyes to narrow, his entire physique tensing, almost preparing for that shift, if it should be deemed necessary. Fortunately, that almost threatening glimpse of the man's sharpened canines was quickly suppressed as a glance of recognition filled the man's features. The almost friendliness to his tone was all but ignored as Tetradore's own gaze shifted towards his father. "Instincts, huh?" He inquired in a clearly dubious manner, the Alpha entirely uncaring of how rude it might be to continue their conversation in front of the very man he spoke of. He fell silent, however, in the aftermath of those words, his facial features alone betraying how utterly unimpressed he was with Matteo's 'neighbor', much less the certainty he had that Pascal wanted to eat his own father for dinner! Surely Alexander did not know of this! He couldn't possibly fathom that his grandfather would put up with...that look.

Aiden's very discontent only deepened at that sniff he was afforded, his brow rising ever so slightly as Pascal commented after his nationality of all things. Truly it was not that which surprised the vampire. Even so, Tetradore kept his tongue, choosing not to voice the myriad of biting responses that so filtered through his own thoughts. Thankfully, the vampire hardly saw the need to comment further after Tetradore's origins, Pascal instead holding out his hand for the goat nestled against Aiden's chest. The very notion that the goat would have been better left to die in the bush provoked a look akin to insult upon the Were-King's features, even if he...might have contemplated the same thing but moments ago when he had first been promoted to goat rescuer. That a vampire intended to feed the goat he went through all the trouble to rescue to his dogs was far more disrespect then the Alpha was willing to tolerate.

Matteo's inquiry echoed his own thoughts, his emerald eyes turned to follow Pascal's gesture towards the dining room table and the feast so clearly set out. He...cooked....Tetradore's goat's mother. A frown crossed Aiden's features, Matteo's own utterance perhaps far better than another that Aiden had to offer at that particular moment and yet oh how he disliked the idea of giving over the tiny animal that cuddled against him to join in the same fate. The sudden hand he was presented with again was eyed with a narrowed gaze before Aiden stepped back and out of the vampire's reach. "I think I'll keep it." He responded, offering Pascal with that same deadpan voice he so often used with his one pack, the likes of which almost dared the man to challenge him when his mind had been made up. "Come on, let's get out of here," Tetradore commented, turning towards Matteo with the clear indication that he was done here, even if he was entirely unwilling to leave his father alone upon the vampire's porch. What the fuck had Matteo been thinking?