The panther could hardly blame the wolverine in the slightest for her rather unsightly fall into those silver jaws. Their kind came to places such as these to so give into that feral nature within them - to simply become one with that wildness that so ran through their very bones. The forest should have been a sanctuary for them and yet, on the borders of that busy metropolis it was anything but. The hunters roamed those woods with a vengeance, picking off their kind and any other that they so unfortunately came across. However, with a vampire now running for mayor, they had, of late, been otherwise preoccupied. To be frank, Tetradore doubted the maker of this little trap would return until after the pair were long gone. Still, that didn't make escape any less vital. That hiss of silver on flesh even made the feline flinch, those thoughts turning tremulously in his mind till that contemplation of assisting seemed but wholly beneficial and now that she was free? Now those more complicated matters begun. Now that metaphorical game was truly on. Those emerald eyes so bore into the woman with such intensity, even as she sought the comfort of that tree. The appearance of those goosebumps upon her flesh certainly served as a reminder to the chill within that weather, it was enough to make even Tetradore wish for escape into warmth.

It was that very thing that so provided the man the angle he was desperately seeking, a way to indebt her, of sorts, more so than she already was. Still, even Tetradore's relative monarchy was hardly as cruel and callous as the world she'd come from. Indentured servants were certainly not what he was looking for. Quite the contrary, he intended to use that favor he was owned in a drastically different fashion, that offer that so bounced around within his thoughts surely would be but the sugar on the top of that sweet endeavor to so appeal to the woman. In truth, she had very little to lose whilst he grappled with the far greater possibilities of 'what if'. It was that simple notion that prompted the were into action, pivoting from that sitting place with that nearly blank look into, instead, allowing that shift to so overcome his frame, tearing muscles and ligaments, cracking bones and receding fur only to present the young woman with the shape of that far more toned figure of a man.

His emerald eyes met those honeyed irises of the she-wolf's own as he so boldly closed that distance between them, his bare feet padding with ease against the snow and yet, that contact with the cold and that too less then favorable breeze had a way of nearly immediately bringing those goosebumps to his caramel flesh. God, he hated the cold. He hated the way it nipped and tease and pierced skin to settle into his bones, persisting with a vengeance. Tetradore was assured that the cold was the very epitome of his own personally crafted hell. Regardless, he was content to ignore that now as he settled in front of her, so eying that wound before, in a fashion that had apparently come across nearly sardonically, the man offered her shelter for the quickly arriving night and, in turn, a place to recuperate for her first brush of Sacrosanct's veiled hostility. That amusement he was presented with as his words were so effortlessly tossed back to him hardly perturbed him in the slightest, that feisty demeanor only all the more curious to the man as his head tilted ever so slightly to the side. A small shrug crossed the man's shoulders when she inquired about his rather sudden care for her, the truth of which was one he scarcely wished to voice aloud. At least, not yet.

The feeling of her hand settling within his cause a small, pleased simper to twitch at the corner of the man's lips, his own strength surely helping to support her in guiding her to her feet, remaining all the closer to her feminine figure as she attempted to keep her weight off her injured leg. What he didn't expect, however, were those nearly blunt tones that left her lips, the fierceness within those words alone saw his eyebrow raise in consideration. Well now, that was....a surprise. For a moment he considered his words before, a rather soft sigh fell from his lips. This was not apart of his plan at all, to so reveal his hand so early. Still, perhaps she would appreciate the straightforwardness. His free hand reached up to run through his curly locks before his gaze turned back towards her. "I hate to break it to you darling, but you've unfortunately wandered right into the middle of a turf war of sorts. Our city holds two packs, one in the West and one in the South. Frost has been terrorizing mine for nearly two years now and I am in need of...someone as feisty as yourself." The truth of the matter fell plainly enough, even if the details were wholly glossed over and yet, Tetradore scarcely paused there. After all, that reality of her situation had not yet fully been exposed to her and if he left it as it was now, he was fairly certain any hope would be lost altogether.

"I'll see to it you are give someplace warm, you'll be fed, and you can tend to your wounds. After you see everything I have to offer, you can choose to stay or leave as you see fit. My only condition is that I don't see you amongst the ranks of that Southern pack. Be free, be mine, but don't be his." It was fairly simple, the man hardly attempting to take her as a prisoner against her own will. She could join him or she could live out her life however she saw fit, the offer only hinged upon the man's determination not to see her as a member of his opposition. Lord only knew his pack had been through enough as it was. She would be a fierce competitor that he did not want to have. He fell silent then, his gaze entirely acutely settled upon her, looking for any subtle hint on how she had taken that proposition. It was a peculiar one to a point, but it was her decision all the same.