The playful tone within the fae woman's words in regards to the vampires that plagued himself and Tetradore and the Faeries that so haunted her own dreams momentarily see the boys features contort in no small level of confusion. He is a creature of habit, designed entirely to learn through his mimicry of others and indeed so far he has learned from Tetradore alone that the discussion of vampires is a serious matter- one that requires a level tone of voice and a sombre expression- both he has mastered from mirroring the alpha himself. After all, Tobias hardly understands the true emotions behind such a thing or why it is so. He has merely earned to rearrange his facial features accordingly. To have Samantha now offer a distinctly light-hearted tone, one that is almost jesting is....confusing to him, his eyes narrowing upon her with momentary wariness before he seems to dismiss the event entirely. Though surely such information will be stored for later use. His name on her lips is hardly heard, the lanky boy far to preoccupied with her attempts to fix the thick black locks of hair that fell into his eyes and tangled with his lashes. Tobias staunchly refusing to have it cut- the last time such an event had been carried out having required Tetradore to near wrestle him to the floor and forcibly hold him down. The snarling and cussing that had filled the ark assuring precious few had any desire to repeat it and as such his shaggy mop of hair had simply been left to become unruly. Something he vastly seemed to prefer.

The woman's assurance that he did not look like a girl is met with a huff of irritation and yet the notion of Charles seems to distract him further, the boy hurrying to fetch his most prized of toys before presenting the ragged white dog with the pink bow in its hair towards her with far more ceremony then such a battered toy surely deserved. Charles, he is sure, is vastly more important then the bladed horse she holds- his features scowling readily at her evident lack of excitement over the dog that he treasured so much. In truth the boy had kept every single item Tetradore had ever given him, from Charles, to clothing, to magazines he could not read- even shopping receipts or empty boxes designed to be thrown out. The deviant boy seeming to treasure anything his leader had touched and handed to him no matter how casually- yet such had always been his manner. There were so few thing within this world that had ever been truly his own- those that were, no matter how insignificant they may be to others, seemed to be utterly adored by the boy. Charles a clearly favoured choice. The dog equipped with a set of wheels that allowed him to be dragged about on a string. The boys features twisting into a lopsided grin only when Samantha actually takes him and places him in her lap, smoothing his fur with the loving care Tobias is assured is required.

"He is....my....most best.....Tetra....gave him to...me. He.....gives me....all the toys when I am good."

There is a momentary frown of sorts, the unusual young man seeming to consider his own fractured words further.

"Sometimes....I am not good.....this is why I.....cannot have.....knife and fork at dinner.....I am not allowed- Tetra says. I stab people."

Dark eyes flicker suddenly back to the far woman once more, his expression decidedly devoid of any real emotion as that shocking volatility of character seems o flicker a moment before he abruptly loses the tense hold to his frame once more, seeming almost playfully innocent again as she speaks his name and his eyes meet her own. His head tilts in a manner decidedly akin to a dog at the question she poses him, the silence existing for several minutes before his gaze narrows on her warily once more.

"Sam....antha....will not....tell to....Tetra?"

One eye lifts ever so slightly in the clear implication that such a thing must be secretive before he moves to pivot upon his heels once more, gesturing the girl to follow as he strides from Tetra's room and into his own next door. His room, my comparison is far less neat, the room entirely strewn with all manner of things, clothes and toys and broken bits of everything litter the room in a veritable explosion that Raven set about cleaning up near every day only to find it returned to its state of disarray each night- a rather large, gnawed bone of....something kicked aside with his bare foot before he moves to shut the door behind them. He eyes the girl a final time before moving towards the entirely un-slept in bed, Tobias refusing to sleep within it no matter the bribe as he grasps the end of it, hauling the bed abruptly backwards before kneeling down at the space he has cleared. Leopard claws rapidly replace fingernails, those deadly hooked appendages catching the wood of the floor before prying the boards up in several places. For all his supposed insanity- the boy's cunning can hardly be denied. He reaches within that dark space, rummaging among evidently countless possessions stored within before producing what appears to be a an extremely unusual tool.

"This....kill....fairy."

He holds it abruptly towards the woman, allowing her to examine the plastic device now- closer inspection revelling it to be nothing less than a heavy duty nail gun- one that seems to have had some level of modification afforded to it- Tobias taking it from her once more, effortlessly pointing it towards the far wall before merely pressing the large black button on the handle. Several 'clicks' occur at once, no less than five rather long nails fired in that mere second to slam into the wood of the wall opposite as Tobias grins and hands it back.

"You can...borrow."

The heavy plastic that surrounds it surely protects Samantha herself (or at least lessens her exposure) to the true source of the weapons potency- the entirely iron nails loaded within and fired with rather significant force thanks to whatever tinkering the Leopard had performed upon it. Fairy's, he is sure, dislike iron touching them- let alone having it embedded with them. Even one nail distinctly painful, enough of them sure to bring down even the strongest of fae.

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