It wasn't often, truly, that Tetradore spoke of his parents, much less did the boy even remember his lineage beyond them. He'd been terribly young when he was taken from that family he'd so dearly loved and with that fire - they had all died. His parents, his grandparents, his aunts and uncles, his cousins. Everyone and everything had been lost to him. It'd been so long, truly, since he thought of the origin of his own name that his thoughts simply ceased to exist beyond the simple acceptance that it was a name so carried by his father. His emerald eyes could hardly help that nearly blank look he gave the woman before him, the man truly clueless as to what she so had anticipated from him. Tetradore was fully aware of that near quizzical look that crossed her features and yet, that sudden brunt response saw the man offer little more than a soft sigh to her. "Mira, I don't know what you're expecting. My name is Tetradore, I was born with it. It was my father's name and his father before him, I don't know what else to tell you." He was quite blunt with her when the mood so struck, after all, it was the only name he'd been called by since he was seven. It had become the very personification of him, surely that was enough? Why she seemed so terribly perturbed by this whole name thing was entirely a mystery, one that was deepened only by the question she so followed it up with.

He was silent in the wake of that simple inquiry and yet, for a long moment Tetradore simply regarded her in an equally as inquisitive fashion. He had little idea, truly, of how to answer her question in the slightest. It was hardly a question of whether or not he wanted to provide her an answer so much as no idea how to even begin with such an altogether vague and open ended question. That singular word he so regarded her with seemed to prompt her toying with those mashed potatoes in consideration. He had little notion that his own reluctance to provide her with that knowledge she so sought had prompted such doubt within her. She was, he was assured, nothing but an intense woman with those golden eyes that so stared at him with a huff. His head tilted to the side as she made some effort to explain herself - those questions that followed suit vastly more answerable then that original one that she had so presented him with. "Oh, of course, I didn't realize that was what you meant." He stated, relaxing into that chair now that he at least had some notion of what this conversation was going to be about.

Regardless, he hardly started talking immediately, instead taking a bite of that steak, his emerald eyes simply glancing upwards at the woman's voice. A small frown crossed his lips as he eyed the young woman for a moment before slowly nodding in agreement. "I don't mind answering your questions, Mira, if you give me actual questions and not just...who am I. I doubt even you could answer that question. You're almost better off asking the world who it is." He rolled his eyes, gesturing with his fork to show how utterly pointless something so particularly vague and "deep" really was. After all, was it his capture that made up whom he was? His childhood? The family he had now and the hardships he now faced? Who was the man Tetradore? Hell, he hardly knew and certainly wasn't the sort of fellow to dwell deeply on such philosophical questions. They often only let to a sort of bitter resentment for the world at large. Still, she had a proposition that he was certainly not going to pass up. "I'll agree to your little game." He stated after a moment, the man leaning forward to place his elbow on the table, leaning against his cheek in a fashion that nearly appeared bored with this whole affair.

"You asked me of Frost..." He started, his emerald eyes shifting somewhere above her as his eyebrows furrowed in consideration. She hadn't asked, truly, what Frost had done or why he disliked the man. Rather, she'd asked to be prepared for if she crossed paths with the man, an if he fully anticipated to turn into a when. "Frost is...very self-centered. He will use anyone he deems necessary to get what he wants. If you do meet him, you would do well not to mention you knew me or appear you dislike me entirely. He quite enjoys attempting to 'befriend' those involved with me before hurting them in some way or another." He paused, his fork digging into some of his mashed potatoes as he admitted softly, "I suppose I can't fault him for his...willpower...but..." But what? He'd stepped a foot in Tetradore's territory and Raven went after him, so prompting the girl to suffer his wrath. Still, she had been given back to him...unlike Samantha. What he had done to Samantha was simple cruelty. "I can overlook him attacking my pack, I suspect there is more to that story then what I was given. I can even overlook him attacking myself, I did draw first blood. But I cannot overlook the man making my girlfriend think she was being stalked and hunted for months just for his own entertainment and her connection to me." A frown marred his features before he shook his head ever so slightly, his attention instead shifted towards the young woman in front of him. "All right, it's your turn. I suspect you're new around here - so why come here?" He inquired, his vibrant gaze lingering on her with a hint of inquisitiveness. Truly, he could hardly help to wonder. Either she had sought out this place for the sheer number of supernaturals that lived here, as so many did, or she wound up here accidentally, a fact he would have been far more interested in learning more of.