I'm Loosing My Soul
Pushing me to the edge of my decline
He was positively soaked, his clothes practically sticking to him as Tetradore's shadows unfurled to reveal the warm interior of the rocking Ark. A small frown tugged at the Were-King's features as he moved towards the counter against the far wall, only to pluck a towel from its depths. He paused just long enough to run it over his dark brown locks, the soft groaning of his sports cars filling his ears as the boat shifted side to side with the angry ocean that surrounded them. It was abnormal for the Alpha to be up so early. Usually he tended to stay in bed at least until late in the morning, if not early afternoon, the man often skipping breakfast entirely. The warmth of his bed is exactly where Tetradore should have been, if it wasn't for the multitude of phone calls he'd gotten earlier in the morning regarding difficulties with the port authority, incorrectly filed paperwork, unsecured cargo, and the status of one of his crew's vaccinations. It had been a busy morning for the Were-King, to say the very least. How he was looking forward to getting dry and, if he was lucky, finding some sort of blissful alone time whilst the storm raged on beyond those large glass windows.
He trekked towards the stairs where his own suite surely awaited him, only to pause at the sound of clinking bottles down the hallway. That was...odd. This early in the morning it was unlikely that the girls would be getting prepared for the evening ahead. Tetradore paused, his towel now draping over his shoulders as water still dripped from his shirt and soaked jeans. Even his shoes felt like they were squelching as the man turned towards the hallway that led to the large cargo hold the bar and accompanying fighting rings were situated within. He hardly took more than a step or two into the arena when the sight of his vector's back caused his brow to rise ever so slightly. "You're starting early, aren't you?" He commented, hardly expecting much of a response. Henry had become....downright hostile, the man clearly not coping with his breakup well, though Tetradore made little effort to get involved within his vector's love life. Frankly, he was almost prepared for some bitter comment from the man for even so much as uttering a word within Henry's direction. It almost made him wonder why he even tried...though, perhaps he was just being particularly pessimistic after his last encounter with his other vector. God, how did he get saddled with two exceedingly difficult people?