The spotted cat moves readily to return to his Ark, the bouncers moving aside hurriedly to admit their Leader as heavy paws pad softly against the ground, tail lashing in anger as he pace up the gangplank and into the heated steel of the ship, the sound of roars and screeches readily seeming to fill his ears as they swivel and twist atop his head. Tonight however, the fighting is ignored, the calls of employees seeking to have him join them as they so often do fallen upon deaf ears- his mood readily palpable to the staff whom live and exists within the Ark as their gazes hurriedly avert in submission and an effort to appease the clearly irate cat as he stalks upward, other patrons moving quickly from his path. He is well known within the Kingdom he has created with Tetradore, well known within the confines of the Ark even before their take over, his ability to fight having long been respected amongst the gathering Were's, his capture of the giant ship having only further proven his right to lead amongst them and as such he remains unchallenged, even despite Tetra's absence tonight, the golden cat stalking up the steel staircase and towards the upper landings that admitted staff only and those whom had sufficient favour to be allowed upon the upper levels. For a moment he is half given to pause, golden eyes peering down from atop the balcony and towards the fighting below, the Ark filled to capacity this particular evening and yet it seems even the delectable scent of blood and anger and fear cannot coax him from the foulness of his mood tonight.

He has so few relationships, so few friends whom are willing to tolerate him or whom he is willing to tolerate in turn, the most dominant and significant relationship of his existence is....damaged, fractured, this rift between himself and his companion- for reasons he cannot perceive nor seem to correct seeming to so slowly begin to unravel the boy. He cannot stand his Leaders determination to ignore him, cannot perceive the continued sharp looks and muttered words or commands to stay away. It does not make sense within his mind, the creature unable to understand and as such he has become only more frustrated, more wild, more violent towards those around him in this manifestation of his distress. He does not understand emotion beyond the most basic of forms, is unable to identify even that which he himself is given to feel and as such he merely becomes....angry. He had apologised, uttered that single word to which he has given no other and yet, it would seem that 'sorry' is a meaningless phrase, holding no sway or power despite the sanctity with which others treat it, mind rapidly having come to understand such a thing. It has been weeks.....weeks since he had dared to slice open Tetra's cheek and the battle that had ensured, the boy willingly having returned to his place beneath the other man and yet still he refused to speak with him, feed him, look at him and it would seem the deviant can take it no longer.

He resides himself to his place once more, leopard form seated outside his companions ever-closed door, willing to wait, it would seem, for the man to return home as he will eventually do, this brief intermission in which Tetradore is given to arrive or leave the only time in which he is truly afforded to see his once closest companion no matter how much he may vocalise his complaint. His moment of solitude however is given to be short lived, the feeling of another against his side seeing amber eyes shift downward to rest upon the nervous wolf as she lingers close, the angry shouts of Hamish drawing his attention in equal measure as jaws part in a hiss of disdain, the bouncer readily skidding to a halt in frantically muttered apologies to the leopard before he moves to hurry away. Yet even Birdie, it would seem, is unwelcome tonight, shoulder thrown against her, seeking to forcefully shove her away from him. He does not want to see her- does not want to talk to her or be near her and yet never before he has displayed such evident contempt for her presence. His mind however- has rapidly begun to sink into the depths of his own form of chaos, pushed until a snap is surely inevitable, unable to attempt to understand any longer, resulting in the almighty tantrum that is sure to follow- mind simply...to exhausted to try anymore, anger and hate and distress released in the only method he truly knows how, incapable of stopping himself.

Live here, my...home.....own it....with Tetra. Ours.

The words are snapped almost forcefully back towards her own mind as he moves simply to shove past her once more and towards his own room next door, having resigned himself to the fact his companion has not returned, shoulder thrown against the door as it creaks open, the room, opulent as it is, musty from disuse, his scent faded within it as fur gives way to skin, Tobias returned now to his human form as his words tumble in a jumbled mess from his lips, an outward manifestation perhaps, of the rapid breakdown that seems to be occurring within the confines of his mind. The dresser is the first piece of furniture to suffer his wrath, launched by a seemingly invisible force into the far wall, shattering and exploding in a hail of polished wood, the leopard having seized upon Birdie's own power and yet.....possesses not true ability to control it, his telekinesis reacting entirely to the onslaught of frustration that rolls within him. It is a sudden and violent onslaught, near every item in the room launches and slammed or thrown, the sound of shattering and breaking echoing throughout the ark as the boy merely stands with fists clenched, a frantic hiss of words that make little sense pouring from his lips, eyes seeming entirely unable to focus upon any one thing as splintered wood and steel launches about the room in a cyclone of destruction.

"Not...my fault.....not my...fault! Can't.....fix.....can't....can't...can't."

He is shouting it now, form very near seeming to shake with this rage, words repeated over and over as a chair collides with a window, glass shattering about the floor as yet another object is thrown into the wall in the violent tantrum. It is the shuddering of the door that perhaps indicates his power is beginning to extend beyond this single room, the boy entirely unable to control it and yet so intense is his rage in this moment he hardly seems to care, the very second level of the ship beginning to shudder as that power brushes against the very beams that seem to hold it.....

He only wants his friend back.....