Strolling her way through the bouncers to the club with an almost cautious hint to the way in which she walked to any who knew her exceptionally well or were more perceptive than her Master, Nivain quickly took in the sights and sounds of the new and strange atmosphere before heading towards a table she had identified as having a good vantage point of the club as a whole. She was here as an experiment, to see if she could meld into modern society with the ease she was used to when she had been more active in the outwardly placed schemes of her Master. So far all she felt was overly exposed, longing for the silence of the library over which she had control second only to her Master, but she had taken the time to dress and ask permission to once again leave the Manor, and so she refused to leave and return to the library with her scaled tail between her legs.

Clad in skin-fitting leather pants and a long-sleeved net top of deep crimson that clearly showed her black leather bra and ever-present Dragon fang necklace beneath, Nivain stalked her way through the throng with the grace of one barefoot rather than in the spike heeled crimson suede boots she was wearing until she reached the table she had decided was to be hers for the night. Until she spotted the male leopard sat in her seat, obviously having slipped behind the table onto the couch whilst she was making her way through the crowd.

With a slightly cool voice despite the higher-than-average heat of her body from her flame, Nivain stared at the leopard and crossed her arms over her chest, the net top riding up slightly to almost bare a line of flesh between the leather and net and her long crimson-tipped black nails gleaming in the light.

"I think, my feline friend, that you have comandeered the seat I had chosen as mine for the evening."

It had been a long while since the wereleopard had been inside any clubs. He normally would be outside them, begging for money like a bum from the people fine enough to get in. But thanks to Darla, the Master of the City, he had been granted the ability to get into Raver’s Paradise without having to pay, because of his connections to her home. This one had especially caught his eye, though, and he was pulled toward it like a little boy to a toy store. Within minutes he had slipped in passed the guards, this time being let in and not trying to sneak passed them.

The music beating down in the main room made his arm hairs stand on end. He was immediately pulsing with excitement, and started looking around for a good table for him to sit at. Not soon after he had started looking, Pierre spotted a nice table sitting not too far into the club, and had a nice view of the room. Smiling to himself at his newfound table-picking skills, Pierre hefted his duffle bag over his shoulder and walked over to it.

Sitting down on the comfortable cushioned seats, Pierre pulled off his fingerless gloves and shoved them in his bag. Slipping of his worn-out trench coat, he threw it over the bag at his feet and started looking around in curiosity. But before he could even order his usual glass of iced water, a woman started walking over to him with a determined look in her eyes. The fact that Pierre was already extremely wary – okay, frightened – of women didn’t help the face when she noted that the seat he was currently taking was actually her own.

Pierre looked up at the woman standing over him and blushed, not out of attraction, but out of embarrassment that he had picked someone else’s table as his own. “I- I- ” Pierre stood from his seat and pulled his trench coat up to his chest. Now slightly put off by the sudden change of the scene for his night, Pierre grew wary of even the woman’s eyes, and so decided to stare at one of her shoulders. “I didn’t- I mean, I’m sorry,” he said.

Arching an eyebrow with the hint of a smirk playing at her lips, Nivain waved a hand in dismissal to stop the boy from speaking and moved around the table to take a seat, close to the cat but not so close as to be able to touch. It did not take an empath to feel how scared he was, and she felt she could still enjoy his fear from a comfortable; non-touching; distance.

Scanning the crowd with an air of amusement that carried to her voice, Nivain gestured to the seat the cat had just vacated without looking at him again.

"Do not do it again should we meet once more, and it will be forgiven. Now, you took this seat. Sit in it."

Looking over at the cat out of the corner of her eye once he was seated so as to not make it obvious, Nivain examined his aura to determine which species of cat he was. Having spent decades with her Master, she had grown accustomed to the vibration of the energy of feline lycanthropes, but had yet been able to determine their exact flavour instantly. Delve a little deeper and she could do it, but that was not good enough in her eyes and so the young cat would do for study purposes. But, she had a good guess.

"You are a leopard, are you not?"