His darker-hued sisters fall does not go unnoticed, forest green eyes narrowed briefly upon her before he dismisses the event entirely, finding he does not care nearly enough to engage himself in laughter as he seeks the shade of his selected tree before lowering his silvery black form back to the earth to stretch out upon his side. A sigh leaves his lips, those beautiful eyes closing once more as he rediscovers the serenity his sister had robbed from him. She was a dominant being, pushy, bossy, loud and forever of a disturbance. He is hardly any less when it comes to dominance perhaps and yet- such is his nature that he remains less forceful about it, calmer, quieter- seemingly lacking any true drive to argue with her either way. He simply refuses to obey her commands as he refuses to obey the commands of any. Yet he does not scream and shout or throw idle tantrums. He simply lays down, a peaceful protest and yet, in time, one that many would come to respect- the boy, in truth, of a truly terrible nature and wholly poor temperament though much remained to be seen in such youth. The cold nose of his sibling within his shadow-touched fur achieves little more than the twitch of a muscle from the notoriously patient creature, Gunsynd unwilling to offer her any further acknowledgement as his eyes close over once more- her shrill, puppyish voice seeing his ears flick in mild consideration before his lips offer that single, belated word that has so come to characterize the creature.

“No.”

It had been his first word and by far his most favoured, he and his sibling alone the only children so far, outside of uncles Elijah and Reaver whom were as of yet unknown, whom had managed to prove capable of actual speech- the vast majority of Tobias’ brood proving unwilling to learn, else incapable. Even brothers Lonhro and Singe only ever seemed to manage certain stuttering. Perhaps it was unfortunate, in that regard, that this child at least had formulated such an ability- one he chose to squander with little save the occasional syllable. His sister’s assurance that she has found something he will like is met with little to no reaction all, failing to believe for even half a moment, that such a thing might be true. He liked very little, he cared for even less and as such he doubts very much that Nevermore had managed to find anything that was even remotely worthy of his getting up for.

“What is it?”

He asks at last, as if choosing a somewhat….in-between option. No longer wholly ignoring her and yet not nearly excited enough to actually engage in physical activity. Lazy he may be, but unintelligent he is not. If his sisters discovery is worthy of him getting up, then he will do as such- if it is not then he will remain in his lounging position until hunger should drive him back to his Mother. Hmmm.

And Nevermore truly believed she was the one in control. How cute.