The often disagreeable Leopard remains firmly between his more preferred companions and the vampires to whom he has called into question, dark eyes narrowed upon the older of the pair, the power given to flow from him...alluring to the cat and yet such power assures the boy remains wary all the same, Risqué, though not nearly so old had held a similar aura and so much time as her prisoner had resulted in a distaste for such things. Davante's hand against his shoulder, announcing his exit merely sees the well-dressed boy nod in agreement before those dark chocolate eyes return to the aged vampire as he speaks. The words the man offers are calm, softly spoken, readily seeming to soothe the boys aggression and yet they are...unfamiliar to him, Tobias entirely unable to perceive this manner of speaking resulting in little more then a blank stare at the vampire attempts to inquire about his meaning of the word Syn. That this single word may, in fact, possess more than one earning has escaped the boy entirely, mind incapable of this form of understanding, lips parting to speak before Birdie moves to offer her own interpretation, assuring him this vampire is not from Syn, nor here to return Tetra and himself to those dark rooms and chains both real and imagined.

"Not from Syn."

He merely repeats the phrase, seeming to turn such words within his mind before nodding, reaching abruptly forward to seize the old vampires hand, shaking it from side to side in the same manner a dog might shake a chew toy before abruptly tossing it back towards him in what the Were has evidently deemed a suitable handshake, Antaros evidently accepted by the volatile Were before Birdie's hand upon his own rapidly proceeds to drag him sideways and away from the group. For a moment the young man allows himself to be dragged before attempting to pull free of the woman's grasp, unwilling to be led by about by a girl as he manages a snort of irritation before Birdie pauses beside....a blonde man. Dark eyes instantly move towards the shorter individual, the scent of prey seeing those dark pupils dilate, animalistic instincts tugging at what remains of his humanity, the desire to hunt rapidly beginning to override all other instincts, driven more so perhaps by his companions evident displeasure, even Tetradore forgotten within this moment as he struggles to hold back the predator that dances beneath, desiring so very much to....bite this......animal. What Frost is he hardly knows, the boy unable to identify this scent, understands only that it will bleed if bitten. It is Birdie's words that seem to pierce that predatory haze, dark eyes returned to her own as she gestures to the other male with evident displeasure.

He does not understand the nature of the comment that had been placed, indeed, Tobias had failed to hear it at all and yet the dominance within this other male is readily displeasing, his own form tensing- before Birdie's hand moves to strike suddenly at the other man, a snicker rapidly hissing between the boys teeth at such a thing, so entirely aware of his companions ability in this regard, a satisfied purr rolling within his throat before Raven moves to grasp Alexis and himself once more, dragging them both away from the blonde whom smells so very...delectable and towards Dav, Az-Rail and a witch whom Tobias has not forgotten. The boy moves once more to release himself from his partners grip, dark eyes searching briefly once more for Tetradore, assuring himself his Leader is present before his gaze returns to the group before him. Davante's exit momentarily sees the leopard shift toward him, as if half considering following one of his favoured companions, the boy having enjoyed Davante's companionship in the wake of Tetradore's determination to ignore him and yet it is Serafina's presence that so seeks to irritate him, a hiss of sorts readily rising within his throat despite Birdie's assurance that it is her belonging. He remembers this witch, he remembers her spell trapping him against the floor so many months ago, claws sliding from beneath his fingernails now- though he remains where he stands, if only for Birdie's sake, unwilling to destroy his companions....toy as another snarl rises within his throat at the sight of the rapidly tensing Hunter amongst them.

He is rapidly becoming uncomfortable in this situation, unwilling to have either himself or his chosen partner near either the Hunter or the Witch and yet it is perhaps Birdie's own growing agitation and lack of control that is rapidly beginning to feed his own. Official or not he has accepted her as pack, that bond of sorts so readily existing between them her emotion brushing against him in some fashion before one hand moves to suddenly grasp the woman's forearm.

"Birdie...needs to...leave. We need...to go home. Pretty- Birdie...needs to leave."

He can feel her energy rising, feel the woman's own animalistic emotions begging to take hold. He does not understand her feral mind and yet he has come to predict it, to feel it, unwilling to have her in such a manner tonight as he abruptly seems determined to pull her away, dark eyes drifting with command now to Alexis, evidently determined that the vixen will help him seek to drag the wolf girl away. His efforts however, prove to be short lived, Birdie rather suddenly forced abruptly away from him, slammed into the wall by the white-haired man from before. For a moment or so the dark haired boy is merely left bewildered, the sudden-ness of this attack seeming to have startled him before the crack and snap of bone sees that last thread of his own control snap. The man is rapidly replaced with the cat, spotted pelt gleaming beneath the light, as he moves towards his companion, jaws parted to rasp his tongue across her cheek, assuring himself she remains unharmed before he plunges after the Horse with a furious roar that sends waiters and tables flying in their effort to escape him, one golden eye briefly rolling to Tetradore, seeking some notion of approval to murder the horse he has taken to chasing before plunging for the door...rather oblivious to the agitated Hunter that has taken aim at him.

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