The soft snort of derision that leaves the girls lips at his use of the word 'pet' sees his own gaze shift slightly with disdain. Perhaps he is not as others, perhaps his mind does not work upon the same wavelength as those around him and yet even he is aware of the shame in such a thing. Pet amongst the race of the Were is a sinful thing, a derogatory thing, those whom wear collars or walk upon leashes often shunned entirely by their own kind. Instinct alone assures him of the wrongness of it and yet some part of his darkened gaze still clings to some sense of hope that Pretty will not turn away from him as others have, as even he had done in Tetradore's presence once his Leaders imprisonment had been understood. Yet for all this shame, for all it stands for and all the misery he has suffered since he had allowed himself perhaps, to walk into Risque's arms, accepted this degradation to some extent....because he would not leave Tetradore alone. For a selfish creature he is indeed capable of truly alarming....selflessness. Tetra is his brother, his family, his leader and his everything and he is will to suffer it would- if only to assure his companion is not left alone. Even if Pretty no longer has any desire to associate with him...he will still have his boy-hood friend and it is this alone he seems to cling too. Her acceptance of his somewhat curt reply sees his features soften slightly, before her words earn her yet another glare of discord, stating that they were far from done with this conversation.

"Oh yes we are."

It is, astonishingly; a complete sentence, words cool as the part the deviant lips, eyes meeting her own briefly beneath that mop of ever-untamed black hair the falls softly about his face, highlighting his youth in this moment. It is perhaps the first sign he is content to give that he may well be entirely more...capable then he often portrays, this sharply spoken sentence betraying a sense of understanding he often seems to lack as he eyes the women warily a moment before moving to shove past her, the fox leaping easily out of his way with a trumpet look that does little more than earn her a snort as he waits for her to do as commanded, grinning readily now as she wanders towards the ice-cream man. He moves to pause within the shade of the tree, lingering now, waiting for the man to become distracted with Pretty before the leopard begins to move, feet soft and silent atop the grass as he circles wide like a predator upon the hunt. He is animalistic in all he does, unable truly to understand that in certain situations his animal instincts are better fought rather than revelled within and yet within those few moments the unfortunate vendor has become his prey, dark eyes fixated upon the man as each movement flows smoothly into the next in the manner in which a feline alone is capable. The unfortunate man has become wholly fixated upon the vixen, one arm lifting to point clearly in the direction of the library, oblivious to the creeping boy until it is far too late.

The shaggy-haired deviant lunges suddenly in a manner in which a lion takes down a gazelle, a full-bodied crash tackle his evident answer to this situation, a yelp of sorts released from the vendor as he careens forward, head slamming into his own cart- the man unconsciousness within moments- a rather pleased looking Tobias left sitting atop his slumped body as he snickers in delight. Dark eyes lift once more to Pretty, a grin of sorts tracing his lips as he moves to scramble upward, bending down once more to snatch up the unconscious man, dragging him hurriedly sideways and back towards the tree, dumping the body unceremoniously within the shade, pausing only to place the man's baseball cap over his face- as if he has simply decided to take a nap. It is surely evident indeed, that this is not the boy's first crime. With the vendor taken care of the lanky leopard strides back to the cart and the waiting girl, long fingers moving to slide the freezer door open, reaching in to snatch a small tub of ice-cream from inside, prying the lid off moments later before seemingly content to stare at the frozen contents within.

"Very....cold."

This is his single observation it would seem, eyes diverting back to Pretty, watching now to see how the girl goes about....eating the cold food, the boy not entirely sure as to how this is done, clearly searching for some form of guidance, one finger pocking at it experimentally, displeased with the chill and yet the scent of sugar exists all the same. What brings about his next words however, clearly cannot be said, his mind suddenly seeming to fixate upon another scent within the air, one lingering entirely upon Pretty and one he knows well. Birdie. For a moment his head simply tilts, curious now, he remembers Pretty with Birdie upon the full moon so many months ago and yet his mind had not help the same possession it now does over the curly-haired women, Pretty having become a rather sudden...threat and as any animal he simply seeks to eliminate it.

"Biride...belongs to me...."

He simply needs Pretty to know it. Tobi does not shre.

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