The very notion that more than the naming of these mere titles may be expected from him momentarily saw the creatures head tilt, eyes narrowed slightly in some sense of wary consideration as if her very words are some sort of test or exam to be passed. He understands, perhaps, the notion of the word itself, a title, a label, another word for belonging or ownership and as such it is the reason behind his willingness to permit the use of these distinctly human titles. They are, within their essence, meaningless to the animalistic side of himself and yet that part that remains human, that still attempts to perceive the nature of those around him has come to the understanding that such labels...names....are important and yet the very in-depth reasons as to why perhaps remain to be seen. Yet there are some things that he simply never will understand, that his mind may forever remain incapable of perceiving. Emotions are not within his capabilities to accurately predict or decipher, that such words hold more than a simple ownership or promise simply does not exist for him and yet, perhaps, in time, such a thing can be learned or taught. For now the words are merely a title and yet one he is willing to bestow upon her all the same, one that at least perhaps, displays his willingness to choose her over others. It is a primitive way of thinking perhaps, simple in it's assurance and yet he is not wholly incorrect within himself, more so he merely sees the most obvious of such a label and yet such thoughts perhaps betray a some ability- deeply buried, to understand what so many believe him incapable of.

"Birdie....belongs to me. Just to me....not other....boys and Tobi....does not have....other girls. Just Birdie."

It is simplistic, perhaps and yet....entirely correct in it's utter simpleness. Just Birdie- such a phrase, it would seem, designed to encompass all things as those dark eyes linger upon her once more, searching her own features now, seeking some form of assurance in this, some form of praise for having achieved this understanding before his thoughts shift once more, returning instead the gift he has for her- doing just as tradition assures him is correct- offering gifts to those he classifies as important within his existence. Her presence so close beside him is willingly accepted, having long since become accustomed to her touches against him, although indeed in the wake of Nadya and Tetradore's rage he has become....noticeably withdrawn in the affection he extends towards the woman in any sort of physical manner. His mind cannot fully comprehend the situation with Nadya, perhaps never will, not upon all it's levels, some part of him having recognised only his Leader's anger and as such the boy remains entierly unwilling to suffer it again, content to offer the curly-haired woman the occasional touch, more so within his leopard form, content to sleep beside her and yet within his human skin his contact has become a more fleeting thing. Fearing, as ever, a reprisal from his Alpha once more, determined to maintain his promise of refraining from playing such a 'game' with a woman again despite the pull of the instincts that stir readily within him, demanding a closeness with the woman he simply refuses to allow beyond the occasional stolen kiss and the manner in which he curls about her at night.

For the moment however he is readily distracted from such thoughts by the gift he moves to press within her hand, content to allow her to lean against him now, dark yes held against her features once more, seeking some reaction, seeking to assure himself she is content with this, watching each and every line upon her face in the manner he so often does when seeking guidance in this- the small smile that lingered upon her lips seeming to please him, content enough to allow the girl to stand upward- pressing her lips against his own in this moment- assured entirely they are alone, long fingers catching readily within her shirt- holding her against him a moment still, clearly unwilling to relinquish his hold upon her just yet- returning this stolen kiss. His hold upon her releases readily enough, watching the girl as she moves to place the pendant around her own neck, a matching gift, it would seem, for the one she had given him, his own crooked grin alighting his features as she moves to lean back against him once more in this brief moment of...affection between the pair, fingers reaching up to catch a single curl, twisting about his hand now as a snickering hiss parts his lips- the boy clearly seeming to enjoy this momentary game he has made for himself before her words seem to distract him, features frowning slightly now.

"Birdie does....not want to....fight?"

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