It was curious, truly, that a member of his own species breached what was deemed as his territory. The were-kind that stalked the hull of that ship knew well what areas were restricted to their presence. The very depths of that metal boat were his sanctuary, a part of that business of sorts that the were-King was particularly possessive over. The ring was to remain perfectly contained whilst all other parts of life went on behind those closed doors and roped off hallways. That ebony jaguar was nothing short of an anomaly, much less the simple fact of what she was. There were so few of his species within that city and those felines that did exist rarely went by him unnoticed. It was near natural, that he should draw his own, particularly before Frost collected them for his menagerie. Delicately, he held out his hands in front of the feline, simply allowing her to draw in his scent if she so desired it. He hardly expected the way the woman so reacted, her gaze abruptly fluttering open only to prompt a sudden flailing of panic at his closeness. His eyebrows rose in surprise as she scrambled to her feet, rushing out of that desk with such frenzied speed that she near threatened to topple not only it but him in the process.His hand clutched at that desk, using his weight to keep the desk where it was and himself upright.

Before he knew it, that slender frame had all but disappeared from existence but a few moments after he'd managed to gather his own wits. A small frown crossed his lips as the man rose, plucking those few objects and array of papers off the rug from where they'd fallen in those thrashing efforts to escape. This was wholly unexpected. It was that movement from the man's peripheral vision that drew his bright emerald eyes, the man pausing in front of his desk with cash and papers still in hand. His eyebrow furrowed as he simply watched the woman flicker in and out of view as if she was some sort of broken hologram or a fuzzy television connection. Idly, Tetradore commented on how she hardly belonged here, much less the small box still gripped tightly within her mouth. All of it was entirely baffling to him. Those words, however, seemed enough to prompt some sort of action from the clearly uncertain creature. He could feel that fear and anxiety that rolled off of her in waves and yet, it hardly seemed him that concerned her.

Tetradore watched as she slowly stepped out of that new found hiding place, her ebony frame entirely visible once again. His eyebrows rose once again at that statement that was so pressed into his thoughts and slowly, he nodded. It was hardly peculiar, really, that his reputation might proceed him on any sort of introduction. After all, the west was largely his territory, his contribution to the black market and those illicit side businesses kept him well connected. What was certainly bizarre was the fact that he was 'The Tetradore' and that sound of awe that so seemed to echo within her voice, as soft and quiet as it so was. He watched the way she approached him, her feminine figure sliding against the jeaned fabric of his pants, so marking him with her scent and, in return, absorbing his own. That insistence that she did, indeed, have a gift for him was met with idle curiosity. "Do you, now?" He inquired, watching as she moved around his frame only to settle in front of him - presenting him with that nondescript ebony box. Tetradore paused to deposit those papers and bundled bills back onto his desk before leaning down to pluck that box from the floor.

The man tugged at that black lace ribbon that surrounded the box, keeping it tightly closed as that inquiry so pressed into his mind, that uncertainty quite clearly noticeable within the woman's voice. He glanced up from the workings of that box as the panther quite suddenly disappeared, that fear once against near palpable for the man who so reigned supreme over that very element. He paused as his emerald eyes so scanned the bedroom, knowing well the creature had not really left him. Tetradore watched as she slowly peeked out from that hidden realm she was so keen to occupy, that request holding a begging that even he could not simply ignore. "All right, all right." He agreed, giving into that tugging as he followed the woman towards the exit. "Where are we going?" Tetradore inquired, his attention turning back towards that box as he finally opened that lid, entirely unexpecting what so innocently rested within. He dropped it automatically, the box and collar within near clattered on the floor as he stepped back, that first touch of fear invading his soul after all those months, after that year of her being dead. She was dead. He had seen her die. He had killed her. He'd set her on fire and watched her body get burned by the sun. She was dead. This could not be her.

Perhaps it was Frost. Yes, that sounded vastly more reasonable. The Norwegian would have known now...now that his sister had gone to join him. He would have known about his past, about his capture, about his terror of her. It was all likely just some ploy to get back at him for haunting the man for months on end. He surely wouldn't have put it past the man. After all, he'd seen how long Frost had played Samantha. Yes, this definitely had to be the work of the man. These were likely all just illusions pressed into his mind. A soft growl reverberated upon his lips as he picked up that all too familiar collar, placing it back in that box only to fit that lid back on top. That new found assurance that, surely, it could not be his mistress prompted him to willingly follow the feline once again, his head held high and his eyes narrowed with the expectancy of that battle that surely would come again. Only this time, the horse had gone too far. This time, he would not yield to the man, even in death.