He is tired of hearing it, mind revolting violently against this continued assurance he is wrong, that he has done something displeasing to his companion despite holding no true ability to actually perceive this wrongdoing and shattering of trust. He believes his curly-haired companion, has come, somehow, to understand that she knows some of which he does not despite her lesser gender, her ability to understand emotions of others not unnoticed by the often irritable spotted cat and as such he seeks her guidance, seeks to have her make him understand and yet perhaps as any child- he does not like what he hears, blames her, to some extent, for telling him what he simply does not want to know or no longer wishes to hear, dark eyes remaining upon her as she speaks before his head simply turns away. His mind is tired, exhausted, his desperate attempts to understand that which has so lingered outside his reach resulting in little more then a mind that simply becomes overwhelmed. There is only so much he can learn, only so much he is capable of observing within a single night, his mental capacity seemingly having reached it's limit- at least for now.

His mind simply is not as others, it works upon a differently level, cannot be made to perceive as others can and indeed, overnight, perhaps, those kinks within his understanding will be ironed flat- mind given to work within the night, to think upon that which he has been told though indeed it may be some days, if not weeks, before he can fully comprehend the events of this single night. Her hand reaching to press against his chest, her attempt to explain just where Tetradore is hurt sees his own gaze narrow slightly once more, attempting again to listen to this explanation though this notion of emotional hurt is so very lost upon him, mind desperately attempting to understand when and how he had so injured Tetradore's chest and yet perhaps- had there been a physical wound, something to be touched and seen the boy would surely have understood all the more. He learns through touch, through sight and taste, that which exists only within the mind of imagination or through metaphor resulting in little more then a pained expression upon his features.

"I do not...like space."

It is little more than a derisive mutter, her hand returned to his own, gently stroking that tanned skin as he seems to still and calm furthermore, soothed by those gentle touches though his lips continue to part, muttering all the same, a tirade of words as he seems to attempt to puzzle out so much of what birdie has said tonight, features forming a frown once more before the woman speaks again. Her determination to speak of emotion, of 'feelings' sees his attention return upon her, fathomless dark pools watching beneath those lashings of equally dark hair as she offered to teach him in this regard, the woman naming feelings he knows exist and yet often remain elusive to him, the creature incapable of matching though to action and emotion to feeling beyond the most basic.

"I am...."

His words remain a struggle, tongue tripping upon them even now as he makes some attempt label what he is feeling, frustration lining each feature as that ever-tired mind seems to give up so entirely, an angry snort the only sound he seems capable of making as arms fold across his limbs and he moves to stand so abruptly once more.

"Hot."

That this is not....entirely what the woman had meant remains to be seen, the boy content to label his emotion with a physical characteristic, with what he physically feels in this moment. Hot. Angry. Yet the word remains illusive once more as he storms towards his corner- and becomes entirely oblivious to the words that follow and the shift that overtakes his form in those truly rare moments in which his mind seems to connect as it should. A sudden grasp upon his hand seems to see the man rapidly begin to shift between personalities once more, those golden flecks within his gaze fading and flaring all at once at his name upon her lips before that dark gaze holds her own as she speaks, gaze remaining unwavering as her own voice seems to find a conviction it so often lacks, the woman speaking with a sudden determination that seems to captivate his attention entirely though whether indeed he understands cannot be said, whether such words are merely wasted else secretly stored by that other being that exists behind his eyes and seems to be ever watchful from within- waiting until the woman had fallen quite before he seems to blink so very suddenly, head tilting slightly now....as if entirely confused as to how she had come to be facing him, the nervousness within her frame entirely clear as he scowls- unable to find the source of this nervousness as he simply points to the place he desires his hammock.

"Nets and tarps?"

He simply repeats these words, seeming to consider them momentarily before suddenly racing past the girl once more, bedroom door suddenly flung open with perhaps for more energy then is actually needed, the leopard momentarily standing within the doorway before a small blonde woman complete with her own set of cat ears runs forward.

"Nets and...tarps....we need....nets and tarps."

For a moment the blonde maid looks almost confused, eyes flicking from her employer to Birdie and back again as Tobias simply scowls.

"Nets and tarps...go!"

His voice moves to become deeper, a mimic once more of Tetradore's own more authorative command that sees the maid running off in the direction of the cargo area once more as the young mans attention returns to the woman within his destroyed room.

"Girl....will...bring them."

He simply nods, clearly having become entirely used to having his own set of staff, the vast majority of the ships employees perhaps only given to do as the cat commands because of Tetradore's authority and yet his own prowess within the battle rings assures his reputation and volatility result in rather obedient staff. The sudden scurrying of feet sees the small young woman return once more, arms laden with exactly what the boy has asked for, moving to placing them in the doorway, clearly unwilling to step within the leopard persona bedroom territory, his own hand waving her away in yet another gesture he has come to favour before gesturing towards the items she has brought.

"Now you...will make hammock and you...will....sleep with me?"

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