Those vibrant emerald eyes remained entirely steadfast upon that young woman, presenting her with a less than pleased glimpse to his features at the simple knowledge that, somehow, she was associated with that man he so despised. That scowl she presented him with coaxed little more then a raise of his eyebrows. Though that law that so banned all equestrian kind from the Ark had hardly fallen from his lips, Tetradore presently held little need to revoke it. That retort that left her lips failed to amuse him in the slightest, his lips merely parting to so correct the young woman in front of him out of sheer principle than any sort of care of being accurate. If she was going to accuse him of something, she should at least do it correctly. "I believe the word you are looking for is 'speciest'." Still, that discontent within the woman was subdued, but slightly, by that nearly respectful dip of her head, at least willing to acknowledge his position above her. It was, something, at least. Though he was hardly willing to drop his guard for that simple gesture alone. Rather, the man was acutely aware of the reaction she held to that mention of the man he could so innately smell upon her, their scents too close for him to mistake it and yet, entirely her own in its nature. It was vexing to say the least.

His eyebrows rose ever so slightly at the curt tone to her voice, that very mention of the man so seemed to prompt some sort of sour taste within her, one she seemed all too keen to inform him of. How interesting. And yet, even that clear dislike of the man hardly held a candle to the words that left her lips - the admittance that Frost had turned her. Tetradore had Frost's very child within his grasp! What a foolish girl. Did she not know that connection that existed between maker and vector? He shuddered to think of the equine getting his hooves on Henry, that secret one he was inclined to even keep from his own pack for the time being if only for how deep of a weakness the newly turned panther was for him. Still, a soft snort left his nose at the notion that her turning had been accidental. Although he might not have had any sort of room to object, Tetradore knew his foe well enough to know that very little was not entirely deliberate with the Norwegian man. "Do you believe that?" He inquired, eying her all too intently in response to her tale.

His gaze, however, remained entirely judgemental in his stare, that glimpse alone apparently prompting the girl to continue in some effort to make herself excused from the horrific actions the steed had beset upon his pack. He slowly brought his beer to his lips, considering the words she spoke as she mentioned of the gossip within their community, not that he was terribly surprised. Still, this was the first he'd heard mention of Frost's intentions to take Nadya into his pack. He knew well the man was courting her but this was an entirely different level then what he had anticipated - even if it was hardly a reach. His lips pressed together in distaste and yet, he hardly offered the woman even a syllable of the thoughts that danced across his mind. He supposed, really, he had suspected Nadya's intent to leave for some time and yet, hearing confirmation, of sorts, hardly helped the sting within his chest at her betrayal, should Frost succeed in his plans.

His gaze refocused upon the woman in front of him as she shook her head, admitting with a hint of sadness of how he'd left her. God damned girl with her tugging at his heart. His gaze narrowed ever so slightly as she spoke of enduring this transition from human to were alone. It was grossly irresponsible of Frost, if it was true, that very thing so coaxing a scowl upon his features. Still, even in the wake of those feelings, Tetradore was hardly inclined to offer her a word of sympathy, willing, for the moment, to play that listening ear the girl clearly needed as she so vented her anger and sadness when it came to that man whom had made her. It was difficult, really, to tell if she was genuine or this whole situation was a farce and yet, those instincts to protect her raged through him all the same. God damn it. It was, however, that mention of her birthday that caused a sigh to leave his lips, his own head shaking ever so slightly. Fine. He would give her one night - and then see what tomorrow held for her.

"Boys." His voice was loud, instantly silencing the whole Ark, the present ongoing fight even pausing in the wake of it as all eyes fell upon him. He glanced over his shoulder at the crowd, a grin almost appearing upon his features. "It appears we have a birthday in our midsts." He stated, gesturing slightly to the girl beside him and, in turn, all eyes fell upon her as the group surrounding them let a roar of glee echo. "Shots for everyone! Clear the ring!" The bartenders instantly began pouring drinks, the ring clearly immediately at his command and slowly, his gaze turned back towards the young woman in front of him. "If you're going to celebrate your Birthday in the Ark, You have to do it the way the Ark does it." He stated simply, those two shots placed in front of him but moment's later, that amber liquid altogether enticing in the wake of all he had just learned. "All in one go, girl." He instructed, lifting his own glass to let the entirety of that whiskey slide down his throat. Dear god, he needed that. "Come on," He spoke once he'd seen to it she'd drank her own glass. He gestured for her to follow him towards that now empty ring, lifting up the edge of the rope for her. "Come on sweetpea. It might not be a full moon but I can help you shift." After all, he was willing to make an effort to understand she was a new were - she might need a bit of help but the celebrations were hardly going to end just because of that. "You get another free shot if you win." Now, the only question was, who did he intend to choose who would lose to a horse without it being painfully obvious...