It is with something of a jaded sigh that the Leopard manages a yawn, white teeth flashed within the growing gloom of the club, the continual flash of lights seeing the creature turn his golden eyes away in disdain, attempting to use his paw to shield his gaze from the never-ending flashes as he reclines atop one of the many plush couches that adorn the interior of the club, having been resigned to this task alone, instructed simply to sit, to be forced to endure the growing crowd and increasing noise as it grates against him, nervous energy circulating his form as he hisses once more at vampire that has dared to come to close, goaded by his companions perhaps, their forms entirely overcome with alcohol to the point attempting to tease the Leopard has become a game, seeing him can get close enough to lay a hand on that gorgeous gold and black hide that fits so very well with the rest of the decor. What the vampire woman hopes to achieve be demanding he sit here cannot be known, oblivious to the fact that it is perhaps for this very monotony and pointlessness that she demands such things of him, if only to drive him that little bit more mad as those sharpened claws extended, his patience wearing thin, eyes searching for Tetra once more. He is content, truly, only when the other man is within his sights, watching him interact with another man, another vampire, moving to lead him back towards the office and Risque, Tobias holding little desire to follow, unable to understand what occurs in those moments as a nervous tremor seems to find his growl, searching for his companion once more, eyes fixated upon the place he had last seen Tetra, waiting for him to re-emerge.

Something jabbed against his rib sees that final tendril of his patience snap, a furious hiss spat free of his lips as he pivots atop the couch, claws slashing at the vampire boy that frantically stumbles backwards in an effort to avoid those deadly daggers the Leopard wields, teeth exposed in these moments as his tail lashes furiously and he lunges from atop the couch, dropping low, slinking back towards the shadows. It has been over an hour since he had last been checked upon, the vampire women surely busy with the man in her office, those golden eyes seeking the sight of his brother once more, assuring himself all is well as he heads for the stairs, heading for the roof, knowing Tetra will come to find him soon enough, shoulder thrown against the door- just as Tet had shown him, stepping out and onto the roof- only to be assaulted with a scent he knows all to well, the pungent, overpowering odour of blood seeming to ensnare his senses readily, pupils dilating slightly in instinctive reaction to that salty tang and yet....the scent presses further, entwining within his own senses, tugging at the bond of pack to which he is firmly bound, assuring him entirely as to whom it is that is bleeding. He barely has time to inform Tetradore of his departure, little more than a rumbling growl sent down in the direction of the other man before he moves to slink back into the shadows, knowing indeed that escape attempts during the night are far more risky, far more frowned upon and indeed some hint of nervousness seeps into his form as he descends the building, landing silently within the street, sliding like liquid obsidian into the darkness to hope he is not followed, his own unique ability entirely awakened in this moment, Nadya's location found within mere seconds as he rushes towards his own territory.

The blood is near an hour old and yet his gifts allow for such a thing to hardly matter, he does not need scent or sight, his intuition instinctive and assured, his presence announced by a sudden crash and bang within the rafters of the armoury, a snarl or agitation pulled from his lips as spotted limbs and claws scramble over his hammock, hitting the floorboards of the space above before leaping downward once more, landing entirely unceremoniously atop table itself, tail lashing as those golden cat eyes rest briefly upon Birdie before slamming upon Nadya. That gold and dark pelt recedes, giving way to his human form, wild dark hair falling into his chocolate-hued eyes as he crouches atop the table, having managed to rid himself of all his ridiculous clothing save for the leather collar fastened against his neck, the boy unable to remove it within his leopard form, nor work out how to unclasp it in his human skin, the red marks around it clearly displaying it's irritation against him before he launches himself at Nadya- surely knocking her entirely from her chair as he lands atop her, dark eyes frantically searching the woman pinned beneath him, senses assuring him she has a weakness, one hand moving to grasp her shirt, lifting it upward despite whatever protests she might have, eyes falling upon her newly stitched side- those fathomless dark pools widening.

"Naddy is....hurt!"

He cannot understand what it is he sees, instinct assuring him this is her weakness, her wound and yet the stiches confuse him, wary mistrust evident in his gaze as he continues to very near sit upon her, oblivious to the fact poor Birdie may be rather...embarrassed to view such a thing. Nadya however, has been in rather a number of positions with him, this one far less creative then a some of their others and as such he pays no attention as he moves to shift aside and allow her to sit up once more. She is pack...she is everything, that bond they share soothed at her mere presence and yet her injury bothers him as he simply points to her side.

"What is...that? Did...Birdie do that?"

Those dark eyes shift warily back to Birdie now, her scent seeming to cover Nadya entirely, the boy seemingly aware at last that he is within the presence of both of his....women, eyes flicking now from one to the other as he moves to pull himself to his feet, clearly seeing no need to find himself any clothing- at least not yet, lip curling upward slightly at Nadya.

"You smell....like a dog."

It is not bad necessarily, more so...she does not smell like......herself, the boy instantly displeased with this, having yet to notice the food that has been left out for him, attention held entirely against Nadya's side, seemingly fascinated with these stiches, head tilted in curiosity as he looks to Birdie now, messy, scruffy, dirty hair falling back into his face.

"You should have...licked it....that makes it...much better."

Had she learned nothing from his lesson last time?

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