It is the scent of meat, perhaps, that manages to draw the golden-hued leopard from his plush couch, the creature slinking like liquid oil to land atop the floor of the bar, the residue of spilled drinks sticking to his paws though he pays it little head and he slides readily into the far shadows and away from the aggravating lights that flash and dance and threaten to see him come undone entirely one of these nights. For now however, the odour of meat permeating the scent of rotted vampire flesh seems to induce his hunger, a rumbling growl of curiosity rolling within his throat as he slinks further into the depths of the club, seeking and searching for that tantalizing odour as his desire to hunt and ability to do as such simply begins to take over, the room rapidly searched before those gleaming golden eyes fall upon a....small vampire. She is a...kitten, he is sure, mind utterly unable to perceive the age and time within vampires and the manner by which they simply do not change. He sees only a kitten, a baby and nothing more, cannot understand that her small frame may well be in possession of a near-adult mind as his tail flicks against his sotted sides. She is small and as such his mind perceives she is weak as all kittens are, a toy to be played with, a creature to be robbed of the meal she has as he allows himself to drop lower and lower still, slinking as only a cat truly can, weaving in and out of bodies and forms until he remains behind the girl. He acts simply as any animal, as any predator would in the face of that which he perceives as prey, coming from behind, pausing to watch her a moment longer, head tilting and turning as others seem to....fly away from her.

Yet Tobias has not seen this power before, cannot be expected to understand it, cannot perceive she controls there very bodies as he creeps closer and closer still, soft and silent as muscle bunches and lights flicker, lunging with a sudden, feral snarl for the package under one arm, seizing it within his jaws and ripping it free from her grasp, quite possibly knocking the girl down entirely should she still cling to it before landing and lunging again, his pilfered prize within his jaws as he leaps up and over the bar, much to the barman's displeasure before proceeding the scamper back into the darkness, into the corridor, up the steel stairs and out onto the rooftop he and Tetra have shared these past nights. He expects no retaliation from the kitten he had stolen from, she is inferior to him, beneath him, a child and nothing more and as such he lowers his prize to the earth, claws ripping at the wrapping, revealing the meat inside as he hurriedly begins to eat. It smells of Naddy and indeed for a moment he is half given to pause in his frenzied feeding, the scent of his pack mate seeing a purr of sorts vibrate from within. It has been some days since he has seen his companion, his desire for her ....company having surpassed merely that of simply wishing to be in her presence, an entirely different need lingering within him, surely a contributing factor to his near excessive energy of late, the lack of his pack mate resulting in no real way to release his energy in any useful form, having taken to pacing the club for hours on end until either Tetra or Risqué is driven to madness by his movements.

A snort of sorts is released before he returns to the meat, another piece hurriedly forced into his jaws as he seats himself before his stolen meal, meat between his paws, the thought of the girl he had stolen from already forgotten as a satisfied purr hums within the night air around him.

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