A soft, deep chuckle left the were-panther's lips at the sound of her feminine voice. Her gaze still studying the interior of the ship. The exterior of the boat was meant to look no different then the others that surrounded it. There was no effort made to clean the rust from it's hull or the dirt from the steel. It was the perfect kind of camouflage - keeping the outsiders from it's depths and requiring the weres that did want to participate some kind of invitation. The interior, however, Tetradore required to at least be well kept. The blood and booze was cleaned up every night when the fighting was oven and the ship was emptied. The stools were put back in their places, the trash cleaned up and the floor mopped till they shined. The Ark was a plethora of mystery and Tetradore loved it.
It was also true that the Ark had some what of a reputation amongst the were community. It was dingy and dirty on outside appearance, the crowd within it's hull no less boisterous and rough. The winnings were good, the fights were dirty and the booze flowed aplenty. Drug deals happened deep within it's depths, gambling, bets, and of course the fights and here he sat, the proverbial King of this decrepit underground world. His take over was sharp, hostile, and brutal. Most of the were community hadn't even been aware that the Polar Bear had been dethroned. It was not a fact he chose to flaunt, instead simply relishing in all that had become his domain. Surely the after math had required some time and careful cultivation but, in the end, the Ark had become just as profitable as before, perhaps even more so. Still, it was this preserved secrecy that Tetradore employed that caused his eyebrows to raise ever so slightly as the blonde woman asked after him by name - full name. Clearly she'd done more research then most. It made him suspicious of her, of what she was and slowly his emerald eyes narrowed ever so slightly.
"Perhaps I am." He responded ever so slightly, the smallest of shrugs crossing his broad shoulders. "What are the rumors you have heard?" He inquired, his eyebrows raising ever so slightly in a brief show of curiosity. Tetradore wasn't sure what to think of the girl he found in front of him. Not now. There was something almost devious about her from the look in her eye, something distinctly predator - though what she was he couldn't quite place. Still, Tetradore didn't feel particularly threatened. Having bested a bear and dominated a tiger, the were-panther had earned some mediocre of ego. Slowly, Tetradore climbed to his feet, his drink dangling between his fingertips in a nonchalant fashion as his emerald eyes perused her female figure with a hint of inquisitiveness. "Did you come here for the fights or for another reason entirely?" Tetradore questioned. She had certainly managed to capture his interest - the real question was, could she keep it?