Tetradore was certainly a peculiar soul, of that there was hardly any doubt. Emotions were an eternally vexing phenomenon for him. So much of his life was simply spent attempting to not feel anything, to push away anything he held even the smallest of fondness for, and it still affected his ability to interact with others he encountered. He was so often regarded as cold, calculating, indifferent, an asshole, someone who could not be pleased, hell, he'd heard it all and yet, beneath that chilled exterior there was still a heart that beat with a steady pace - one that still attempted to connect with someone. The man was all too aware of the weary way in which the woman had regarded him and yet, he'd paid it little mind, taking that time she spent within the warm embrace of that shower to so see too those responsibilities he had given himself - food and clothing. It wasn't much, he knew, and yet she must not have had any sort of place to go, less she surely would have rejected his offer or insisted he returned her to her own home. Still, he had little intention of questioning what had brought her to this point in her life. After all, he had little interest in turn of telling others his life story. One did not ask if one did not intend to share in return.

By the time the young woman had finally emerged from that bathroom swathed in that towel, Tetradore had managed to fetch both of them a set of clothing, saw to their food needs, and was presently positioned in front of the stove boredly moving potatoes around in a pan till they became warm to the touch. Cooking was definitely not the man's forte. He'd never had a need to do something so particularly...domestic. His emerald eyes glanced upwards at the sound of her voice, the man hardly commenting as he put that food on their designated plates, moving around that flat to place that plate in front of her before he settled across from her. He had anticipated some sort of interrogation, naturally, and yet, he had expected for her to at least want to eat before tackling him with those demands for answers. Oh how wrong he was! That inquiry of his name, however, was an easy enough start - or, rather, he thought it would be.

It was a habit, really, the way he so constantly provided any asking after his last name. His first was something he kept for himself, something he'd hidden away even from that vampire mistress he'd had for so many years. It was that family line he was so determined to carry on, even if that fire all those years ago had so seeked to remove them entirely from the face of the earth. Aunts, uncles, grandparents, cousins, parents. All of them were gone. It was that inquiry of whether or not it was spanish that caused a quizzical look on his features. "Er...I...guess so?" He commented with a small shrug on his shoulders. It was all too clear that he atleast had Mexican origins. He supposed it wasn't much of a stretch that his name had the same source. He cut another piece of that steak, his eyebrow raising as she continued, insisting he hardly seemed like a Tetradore at all. A small frown crossed his lips and yet, the man merely offered yet another shrug in response. After all, that name had come near define him. "Well....I am?" Tetradore uttered with some finality to it. After all, his true first name felt....entirely foreign to him - uttered only by his sister these days.

The sound of her name upon her lips drew his gaze towards her, it was funny that she insisted she was 'just Mira' and yet questioned him on being 'just Tetradore'. "Mira it is." He concluded, shoving another piece of steak in his mouth, chewing on it thoughtfully as the girl paused to near inhale her own meal. Poor thing, it looked as if she hadn't eaten in some time. It made him inquisitive of the life she had come from and yet, he merely let her near devour that juicy steak. A small simper crossed his features at her insistence that she rather enjoyed the meal in front of her. "I'm glad." It was a good steak, really, but considering the price he paid for it, it sure as hell better be. His emerald eyes focused upon her as she lenaed forward quite suddenly, inquiring as to who he was. His own gaze met those golden eyes with a rather blank stare, the man blinked at her several times before asking quite simply, "What?"

Tetradore had never been asked before who he was and for a moment he found himself entirely unsure of what to say to her. After all, what defined him as him? What did he say? That he'd spent the last nineteen years of his life as someone's pet? That he'd only just begun to finally have a life? That he'd had everything and everyone he ever cared about stolen from him in some fashion or another? A small frown crossed his lips as he stared hard at the girl in front of him. Yes - all those things defined him and yet...he had little desire to tell her his life story, much less explain those very dark points within his life. "I am the Alpha of the West." He stated after a moment, even if he knew that such was entirely unsatisfactory of an answer and yet...without any knowledge of what she was looking for, he scarcely knew what to provide her. After all, Alpha was very much how he defined himself now - a provider, a protector, a leader with responsibilities he often times struggled to succeed in. Yes - that was who he was.