[Tate doesn't just hear that roar, he feels it - and he's not as affected by it as the cat is, freezing up with another garbled hiss before her wild thrashing wiggles her out of his arms. He tries to catch her but he feels oddly... wooden, clumsy and startled into losing his grip. His heart's sitting at the base of his throat, throbbing there when the silence rings in his ears and his protests are silenced too.
He just stands there, turning slowly around to look at Derek with - wide eyes and a quickened heartbeat. He wants to go after the cat but just stares instead, feeling like his ears have just popped and the world's not a frozen mess after a handful of seconds more. He rubs his hand over his arm, feeling scratches itch and remind him of something half-buried in his subconscious. But that's gone as quickly as it pipes up. Tate hates the way his voice sounds when he speaks - quieted and stifled:]
Her name's Cobain.
[He feels like his voice warbles, a child just scolded trying to speak.]
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He just stands there, turning slowly around to look at Derek with - wide eyes and a quickened heartbeat. He wants to go after the cat but just stares instead, feeling like his ears have just popped and the world's not a frozen mess after a handful of seconds more. He rubs his hand over his arm, feeling scratches itch and remind him of something half-buried in his subconscious. But that's gone as quickly as it pipes up. Tate hates the way his voice sounds when he speaks - quieted and stifled:]
Her name's Cobain.
[He feels like his voice warbles, a child just scolded trying to speak.]
Cat... Cat Cobain.