The girls momentary attempts to correct the deviants behaviour see those dark eyes fall readily upon her once more as she moves towards him. He dislikes correction, dislikes being told no and yet in the months he has been given to spend with his pack once more he has slowly begun to display a willingness to allow them, and only them, to adjust his behaviour. He is content to obey Tetradore in all things, the other mans ranking assuring an inbuilt desire to please him in some sense and yet, while he is more inclined to oppose Nadya, neither seemingly capable of forcing dominance from the other she has proven to be perhaps the most....unwilling to tolerate his behaviour. He is far from the foolish creature he often appears, the boy a master of manipulation, often content to use others ability to underestimate his capabilities entirely to his advantage, so often getting just as he desires, when he desires it, for others fear to correct him. Nadya however- has proven to be the most....unwilling participant in his games, the girl so often refusing to entertain him entirely as Birdie and Tetra and Emma do. She is the...disciplinary of the group and it is perhaps for this reason he is content to fight with her over and over, the pair clashing far more then any other, Tobias determined to remain wilful and stubborn, while Nadya in turn remains equally so, refusing to bend to his desires as so many others often do. By this same measure however he is...not entirely unwilling to accept her correction, at least, not in this, scowling as she takes the butter away and he returns to fork to her, her question hastily spoken and then forgotten in the same moments as he reaches for the butter again, doing just as she had instructed, smearing it now across his ham. Well. It was almost right.

The hesitation within her voice is readily seized upon by the ham and butter eating boy, her words flustered suddenly in this moment, her form and body holding a touch of insecurity now as he regards her, eyes narrowed warily in this moment as he attempts to perceive this change in mood and the question he has been presented with as those first tendrils of his power continue to tease at her, attempting to spark a reaction, to draw out her agitation in some desire to push her in the direction he wants, to force her own power to engage, her scent in this moment no near so alluring as he desires it to be. She is fortunate perhaps, that he still remains content to ask for what he wants, rather than merely taking it. Her question seeing his head tilt slightly as she asks whom had taught him the word for the game he so enjoys, the game some part of him believes only Nadya is capable of playing, the woman's value to him assured as he seems to weigh up his answer in this moment.

"The.....picture box."

That she may not understand at all what he is talking about remains to be seen, the boy moving to shape his hands in a square like manner, struggling indeed to describe the object responsible for his having learned the word for the 'game' they so often play, assured it is as such, despite the woman content to tell him it is, in fact, not a game at all.

"Has pictures....that move and sounds but....they are not real and you....cannot eat them. I tried."

He means the television, the boy paused a moment longer to assure himself Nadya understands before those wild dark eyes are drawn towards the objects in her hands, allowing her to run her fingers back through his hair and brush aside those thick, ebony locks that seem to fall forever in his eyes. He has come to accept her touch, to allow it, even enjoy it and as such offers no resistance as his attention falls onto the toys she has brought from home, from the place they had lived so many years ago. His own memories are fractured and fragmented, though he remembers still the Tetradore house, remembers sleeping on Tetra's floor or beneath the bed on so many nights, assured their Mother had never known though the continual appearance of blankets beneath her sons bed surely indicated that she had, in fact, been well aware of her house guest. He remembered Nadya's room, the lounge room, their Father with his deep voice and the yard that had been the sight of so very many adventures. There are holes, gaps, his mind seeming to have destroyed some of these treasured moments and yet he remembers still, the boy in possession of his own single photograph though he is yet to show it to another aside from the vampire whom had helped him search so many months ago. The sight of such toy returned now see his own features lighten, fingers reaching eagerly, his own powers halted now, distracted by Naddy's offerings.

He moves to trace each one, dirty fingers carefully lifting each army man and marble, tracing almost lovingly over each car. He remembers. Though what and how much cannot be said as he moves to carefully place each one back upon the grass before him.

"The cars are....Tetra's....not mine."

For a creature whom remains determined to own everything within his immediate sight he is seemingly content to assure what is not his own is returned to his Alpha, oblivious now to the fact that the other man may well be content to allow him to have them after all these years, the boy already having returned one toy car to him. His delight with such gifts however is clear, fingers fiddling with each momentarily now, lashings of wild hair tumbling back into his face, lips pulled into a devastatingly beautiful smile that shows entirely how handsome he may well be beneath the dirt he seems to wear like a banner.

"Thank you."

It is for barely a moment that such words exist, his voice shifting suddenly into something...deeper, almost baritone, rich and smooth in the air as those deep chocolate eyes lift to her own in this rarely seen moment in which the wires of his mind seem to connect- if for but a second, in which the boy reverts entirely into the man he is...was....could have been if not for so many tragedies in his young life- the real Tobias appearing for this single moment in time before he seems to quietly slip away once more, leaving the boy and his toys blinking in momentary confusion, unable to understand why he is looking at Nadya as he reaches for another slice of ham, diligently buttering it as he lifts one army man to shoot at the invading marble.

madness, as you know, is like gravity: all it takes is a little push