Her exclamation that cats always land on their feet is met with yet another blank stare, dark eyes narrowed upon her in some attempt to perceive the phrase he has been offered before his head simply nods, a standard gesture, it would seem- to that which he does not understand, chocolate eyes resting still upon her face in an effort to assure the correctness of his actions. A grown man he may be, yet such is the fractured state of his mind that he is so often given to appear as a child in so many ways, some part of the dominant Leopard still desiring the praise of others, still desiring to please in the same manner as a child surely does as he seeks some form of understanding upon her own features before he simply moves towards the table and chairs he has fixated upon in this moment.

"Yes, Yes I do."

It is sudden, his words a near perfect mimic of her own from before, seeming- at last, to suddenly answer her question in regards to cats landing upon their feet, oblivious entirely to the fact that the moment for responding to her has surely passed- his words seeming bizarre and misplaced as he seats himself all the same before demanding she do as such, hurling their cutlery across the room, leaving the disgruntled waitress to retrieve it- though even she offers no true reprimand to the volatile young man. For all his perceived insanity there is perhaps something to be said for the cunning cat, few, save Tetradore, are willing to tell him off, fewer still daring to question his actions and as such there is truly little the man cannot do- his behaviour near instantly excusable and as such perhaps- he has found a manner by which to manipulate those around him to allow him to do near anything he should desire for fear of his reaction. How much he truly does, or does not understand, is surely the question. Far too many given to make the mistake that he is simply unintelligent. Indeed, he is truly far from it, those dark eyes entirely sharp as they rest upon the woman- the witch seemingly amused with his momentary tantrum and the reason behind it before delving into her bag to produce several coloured vials that near instantly seize his attention.

His eyes simply follow her hand as she moves to point to each in turn, pupils seeming to dilate as any cat surely does in the presence of that which it finds intriguing, ears twisting and turning atop his head as that long, thick tail flicks about behind him. Her explanation on headaches sees the young man's head tilt slightly, mirroring her gesture, one had reaching up to tap at his own head before those shaggy black locks tumble back into his equally dark, fathomless gaze that remains fixed upon the colours before him. He loathes liquid in any form and yet liquid that is trapped, as these are, is a source of constant fascination (and the reason Risqué had been forced to get rid of her fish tank during the months she has kept the deviant and his companion as her pets, so many hours spent chained to the wall of her bar leaving the boy with little to do save fixate upon the swimming creatures within).

"For...sickness?"

His words are fractured still and yet seeming to hold question, one hand reaching abruptly forward to seize that particular vile in clawed fingers, turning it rapidly over within his hands before abruptly proceeding to bat at it, tumbling the delicate glass back and forth across the table as a snicker hisses between his lips in delight at this new found game- oblivious to the displeasure this may cause the woman before he speaks so suddenly once more.

"Birdie....is sick....got broken- by deer that...is not deer.....this....fix yes?"

He pauses in his game only long enough to meet her gaze once more before his eyes suddenly narrow, moving to look past and behind her now, one hand lifted abruptly to point.

"What is that?!"

That his words are offered without stutter should surely be her first warning, only mimicked words are given so smoothly and yet perhaps she does not understand him so well as of yet to perceive it, the Leopard waiting only so long as it takes the woman to do as any being surely would and turn towards the source of his apparent fascination- before his form shifts rapidly, skin and hair replaced with that splendid golden coat all marked in black, the man replaced with the jungle cat as he lunges suddenly forward to size her entire bag in those powerful jaws before springing away. For a moment those golden eyes flash, form bowed down like a dog a play, daring the woman to try to take it from him again, waiting for her to try before he leaps backwards again and again- leading her a-dance through the crowd that rapidly continues to part from him. It is only when he is assured she will follow that he pivots on heavy paws, the Leopard lunging through the crowd now to twist and glide before hitting the back stairs that lead up to the viewing deck above, clamouring up them with Sorcha surely behind before he races towards the chair he had originally been seated upon- content to see that Tetradore (and the dinner he had made) had returned, as he lopes forward now to dump the witches bag at his companions feet, a myriad of potions and vials within, a veritable mixed bag of powers he offers to his Alpha now with a satisfied purr.

Riddles.....has bag....of magic......wants to sell. Now is....our bag of...magic.

It is Ravens power he utilizes now, allowing his words to be heard by his companion even within his animal form. The boy leaping up and onto his own seat beside Tetradore now, hooked claws dragging his own dinner plate towards him before proceeding to inhale the food- pausing briefly as Sorcha manages to arrive at the top of the stairs, Leopard features pulled back into a decidedly cattish grin and the game he has played- and won. Her prized bag now at Tetradore's feet as another hissing snicker slithers between his jaws.

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