There was no denying that Tetradore had a peculiar relationship with women. He appreciated their petite figures and their delicate nature and yet, he had seen first hand the very power they held within those slender frames. He had seen the sort of devastation they could wreak upon his emotions and, in turn, the man was more often prone to keeping himself closed off from the fairer gender. He was hardly against those ideas of love and establishing a family - after all, his own parents had held quite the ideal relationship but Tetradore had yet to find a single woman that had even begun to compare to those memories of his mother. He had yet to find anyone who truly prompted those feelings of love and, frankly, at his age and in his current situation, Tetradore doubted he ever would. He was all too readily inclined to simply pushing them away from him and yet, his admittance that he was less inclined to their difficult nature was rewarded with an almost teasing notion that perhaps men were far more of his appetite. He could hardly help that frown upon his lips a the idea, much less the fashion in which his nose wrinkled at the sheer suggestion of being intimate with his own gender. This seemed.....hardly appealing in the slightest. His hands crossed over his chest in a pout that he was unaware of. "I'd rather keep my bed for myself." He grumbled, his emerald eyes turned pointedly towards his companion only for Matteo to disappear entirely as if he feared Tetradore's retaliation at such an idea.

That disappearing act, however, hardly lasted long before the conversation shifted to one that too brought him some level of grief. Though he knew well that alliance with Frost was one with benefits, both for his attempts to secure the safety of his pack, and for his sibling to still retain some level of familial connections even despite her attempts otherwise, he still found himself afflicted with that array of emotions at the very mention of the man. Truthfully, he could hardly tell the origin of his dissonance with the fellow. After all, Frost had been acceptable enough once the pair of men had met face to face and yet, it had hardly failed to escape his notice that the war-horse had found an out that he had not. Frost had found love where he had not. He had found freedom where Tetradore had not. And perhaps he had found some sort of family within that alliance that seemed to eternally vex the were-King. Though Matteo seemed determined to ensure that conversation persisted longer, it only served to agitate Tetradore all the more, at least until he offered some sort of agreement on the astuteness of the choice for the simple sake of no longer talking about it. He knew, just as well as he knew Matteo knew, that he was making an effort to shift that conversation to something more pleasant, even at the risk of hearing the details of a wedding he cared little about and yet, in the end, the elder fae seemed to give into such a desire.

Thankfully, even this too was short lived before Matteo saw fit to mention that very affinity that he had almost been proud to show the Frenchman. That very notion that it was this that caused him to deemed an adult, however, prompted an abrupt shove from the were-King only for Matteo to abruptly vanish, only to appear on the other side of that room with the ball in hand. He supposed, truly, he should hardly be surprised by the elder fae's sudden desire to test that very affinity, even if his gift hardly worked in the same fashion that Matteo's did. Nevertheless, Tetradore was no one to leave a game unfinished and though the result was less than ideal, the were-panther found himself properly teleported across the room with just mere seconds of time to catch the ball before it fell flat on the floor. Even he, for all his often perceived stoicness, could hardly help that satisfied simper that settled across his features at the small nod of approval he was given in the wake of that demonstration, regardless of those areas of improvement Matteo near insisted upon. Frankly, he was hardly surprised that the fae held some level of suggestion - after all, Matteo had been teleporting for all of Tetradore's life and far longer still. He was quite near the master at that affinity while Tetradore was little more than a fledgling finding his wings.

It was, admittedly, that very name that Matteo had afforded his ability that truly caught Tetradore's interest. He had never heard that term before - 'Shadow Jumpers'. His head tilted ever so slightly to the side in curiosity at the very notion that his gift had once been a secret to be guarded, though why he hadn't the faintest notion. What was so different from him then Matteo? What if his ability made it so much more valuable? That inquisitiveness, however, was subdued but momentarily by Matteo's questions of his limitations and yet, Tetradore had to admit that he had hardly properly tested just what he was capable of. He had never bothered to see how far he could go or how much he could take with him. It hadn't truly mattered to him as long as that skill achieved what he needed at the time. Admittedly, he probably deserved that exclamation from his adopted father, his own hand rose to the back of his neck in a sheepish gesture. It was, perhaps, a feeble attempt to distract the Frenchman that prompted the throw of that ball, even if he was hardly surprised by the finesse in which Matteo so used to retrieve it. That ostentatiousness was so very much the Frenchman, even if Tetradore had never truly been capable of witnessing exactly to those very levels Matteo could go. That tossed ball was quickly retrieved by the were, even if his own efforts contained far less grace than that of his companion's. Still, that effort to further flex his ability by taking Matteo with him, however, was unexpected, particularly with a goal so....precise.

A small frown graced his lips as he considered it, only to nod and rise from the bed. He crossed the room, reaching out for Matteo's hand whilst his gaze never quite left that sofa. Those shadows so easily rushed to answer his call, embracing both men with assuredness only to whisk them out of existence for a few perilous seconds and, to pop them back out on top of the very couch Matteo had desired to be. It wasn't exactly where the Frenchman had wanted them but....it counted....right? That exclamation from Matteo's lips prompted his own emerald eyes to turn downwards towards the sofa, his features shifted ever so slightly with discontent at himself before that question interrupted such thoughts. "Err...." He started, that sound alone surely gave away the answer even if he hardly voiced it out loud. Still, he could hardly deny that he was pleased Matteo saw his mistake impressive all the same, even if Tetradore himself was not nearly as pleased with his efforts. Maybe he should try this whole....practicing thing. His vibrant gaze shifted towards the Frenchman at the suggestion of those ideas and yet, patience was one thing he certainly held. "Okay." He responded, simply enough, only to step off of that sofa and settle upon it once again at Matteo's side.

Tetradore took the tumbler Matteo offered him, the man more than content to sip upon the liquor as he listened to that story the fae offered. It was curious, truly, that his kind had been regarded for their ability to kill and yet, it almost fit him, truthfully. After all, had he not been, in effect, Risque's assassin? Perhaps this was partially due to her own influence on him, that such an ability would exist within him in such a manner. His eyebrows furrowed ever so slightly at that idea of those shadows simply failing to exist within the desert, after all, Tetradore had hardly ventured to such a place to attempt such a 'jump'. Still, he waited patiently as Matteo sipped upon that alcohol, only to pick up that story once again. It was baffling to consider, really, the idea of jumping to people instead of places and yet, the longer he considered it, the more he supposed it made sense. After all, he was, in effect, moving from shadowy space to shadowy space, even if he was, at times, dragging those shadows to him. Still, the very idea was one he struggled to consider, those further mentions of myths and mysteries that surrounded that skill from ancient times only further managed to baffle him. It was, he was sure, a topic he would think of for some time after Matteo had left him.

That pondering, however, was cut short but the rather unexpected inquiry of being tucked in. He reached out, clearly intending to shove the man again only to be left with empty air. He could hardly help that roll of his eyes as Matteo's voice drew him towards the bed, the fae entirely content to lay sprawled across those sheets. His head shook ever so slightly as he stood, reaching for that bottle of liquor. "I got the newest in the series a month ago. You should see the weather effects on it." He commented, nonchalantly, equally as pleased to draw out those goodbyes just a little longer, even if Tetradore would never admit it.