The manner in which the girl cuddles closer to him momentarily sees the dark eyes of the young man narrow, fractured mind attempting to understand this gesture and yet he makes not immediate move to flinch away from her. Raven was often given to do the same thing, the hammock they shared rarely allowing space between them and as such Tobias had become conditioned, perhaps, to such a gesture, tolerating the way in which she wrapped herself around him before the flutter of eyelids assured him she was waking- fractured words tumbling readily from his lips. The sudden yelp the girl offers as she frantically scrambles away from him earns the woman little more then a snicker from the cat-like boy, lips parting as he does to show those deadly, pointed fangs he has shifted into place as the hissing noise rises from within him. Tobias seemingly taking some measure of delight from her fear. The sudden shimmering of gold above however rapidly sees the dark eyes of the boy pull upward, head tilted in evident curiosity as the glitter suddenly falls around them. For a few seconds at least the girl is entirely forgotten, Tobias entirely fixated upon the sparkling glitter that now litters Tetradore's bed and himself, lips spreading into a wide childlike grin as his hands suddenly clap excitedly together. It is the shine alone that attracts him, his mind obsessed with such things as he beings to mutter to himself once more, flicking at the glitter in playful fashion before the girl erupts into tears. That he has terrified her sufficiently enough as to make her cry only seems to see him frown all over again, staring blankly at her for several moments. He does not understand tears, he cannot accurately perceive this emotion nor the complex situations in which tears may be wholly appropriate, the man briefly attempting to rearrange is features to mimic her own as she sobs her words towards him. It is a habit perhaps, the man attempting to mimic the emotions of those around him, if only to attempt to understand them. It is the way in which he learns all the same, mimicking expression, remembering in which situation it applied even if he cannot make the tears come as the girl does.

"Yes....cows. Cows are....sad. You are not....a good listener. I will tell....Tetra."

He nods his assurance of this, as if her poor listening skills (by his flawed judgement) are entirely of interest to Tetradore and yet much of the situations the men discussed involved topics so few others ever understood. Tetradore, after all, was the one who had assured his companion of the existence of the crab spiders that had been his final question to the woman. The sudden increase in her crying does little more the irritate the man, scowling towards her now, his overly sensitive feline hearing resulting in some attempt to flatten the leopard ears that sat atop his skull amongst the thick tangle of black hair- if only in an effort to drown her out.

"You are....very loud....I do not like it. If you....do not stop....leaking and making that....sound I will...bite you."

The he believes the girls tears to be some sort of leaking is surely evidently clear, the boy equally unable to identify the sobbing sound as crying, merely addressing it as offensive. He knows truly he is forbidden from biting anything within Tetradore's room, the boys ability to carve through reinforced steal with his teeth having resulted in the rule and yet he offers the threat all the same in some effort to silence her. The appearance of bubbles however, rapidly ends whatever fractured thoughts had existed as his gaze rotates upward, pupils dilated like any cat that sees something of interest. The floating spheres a source of clear awe. He launches himself rapidly from the bed, attempting to clasp one of the bubbles between his hands as he does, both hands opened carefully, assured he has trapped it within- only to find his clawed hands empty. A huff of frustration parts his lips as he leaps upward again, the man well over six foot in height, more then capable of reaching the ceiling as he does. He opens his hands once more, finding them equally as empty, features shifted into a look of utter bemusement. He is an excellent hunter, the best within the pack, this continually escaping prey baffling to him as he turns to show his empty hands to the girl still within Tetra's bed.

"Is gone?"

They are both question and statement all at once, utter confusion adorning his features as he looks upward once more, the rest of the bubbles having faded by now, leaving the room empty. This is decidedly trickery prey. Sneaky prey. Bare feet pivot rapidly on the floor, the man hurrying back to the bed, oblivious to why or how such a thing may upset the fae girl as he hauls the blanket upwards, diving beneath it before pulling it back down atop them both, leaving them both beneath the blanket now as his tail flicks in anticipation, a few cracks of light assuring vision all the same in the dark, heated space as his head lowers to peer in a decidedly cat like manner through one of the gaps in the blanket, gesturing for the poor Fae to do the same.

"We are....waiting. Waiting.....for....floating things to....come back....then we catch them."

He believes, assuredly, that he has fooled the bubbles, that they will reappear at any moment like deer in a forest, unable to see his form lying in wait beneath the blankets- the boy utterly oblivious to the manner in which the girl beneath the blankets with him is dressed, such things, after all, mean little to him- his mind incapable of making this connection between her appearance and any sense of pleasure he might take from it as he continues to peer through the gap between the blanket and the mattress in ready anticipation.

"What....are you....called?"

It is a sudden question, semi-glowing gaze turned back to her in the gloom.

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