The edges of his nails ran through the strands of his ragged hair, she was only trying to help and he knew and understood it. There hadn't been the sense of suffocation from her gentleness and consideration. Yet, even then, he still felt far more like a burden that shouldn't be taken on. A heavy sigh weighing out of him while a weary gaze lifted towards a nearby wall. "I know, Liv. . . And I don't mean to spurn your generosity and your offer." It'd had been because of the fact he cared about the woman's safety so intensely, as much as several people in his life that he would've protected by running off if it meant they could live - hate him - but live. But he knew, running never solved anything truly only built up more problems and made the issue that had been escaped fester and grow more toxic. "Your home should be a place that's happy not defiled like that, you know? I want to be able to protect that as long as I can." He turned towards her with the sharp brown eyes staying on her ivory features.
Soft snorted laughter shook up in his chest, almost nearly quiet unless someone had acute hearing or toned out the rest of the activity happening in the halls enough to catch it. "I'm just throwing stones in a glass house with that whole stubborn thing, you know." He'd been stubborn himself. The entire ordeal, his reluctance to intrude on her, to keep her and everyone else back from getting caught in the maelstrom of blood, teeth, and pain had been due to his stubbornness on the matter. The atmosphere had lightened, she deserved the lack of tension as much as he could offer. Though his mood still had been stuck inside of himself like a javelin lanced through a leg.
"Now, that's just rude. . . Using my own methods for other people against me. There has to be something against the code of friend-conduct for that." It was his turn to try and poke more of holes in the bubble of tension that enveloped both of them. Managing to at least ease his own moody countenance a fraction, for the good. "I'm not kind to myself because of what runs through my veins. . . Not sure if that will change but I keep getting told I shouldn't let it determine how I view myself but. . ." The tip of his tongue flickering against the sharpened row canines, the reminder that his body had been naturally engineered to kill, to tear, to maim and devour. "Easier said than done." It wasn't the tone of someone whom had given up the attempt of trying to view themselves in more than a depreciating way but acknowledging that the mountain was far higher than it seemed.
Travis' eyes close slightly with his face lowering towards the ground with a furrowing brow and another slight huff. He knew the angle she'd been going, both with the necessity to keep a balance but also that factor that she -was- a Half-breed and fought with the varied amount of skepticism and stereotypes that often came with having even a drop of Veela blood in the veins. "Sorry. . . That was insulting on my part. You've gone through more than enough of your own issues, I know that." Being a ferocious beast or at least viewed as such, it wasn't so different in weight to being viewed as only a symbol of sex - as if the person had been naturally designed -only- for that.
Her hand coursing along his arm causing a shiver, mostly from the gentleness contrast to the grim sharp cruelty of the reality that jabbed him on the inside. That stuck through his brain and tore up everything he sore and thought in more ways than he could've comprehended in the moment. "That's just your nicer way of saying, 'I'm stubborn and staying. So shut up and get over it, Travis.' " Over the last few months he'd gotten instinctively bad at pushing people away. It'd been due to Liv's intervention that made him draw people into himself, forging stronger bonds with those that he hadn't considered.
Then the shift of what his own actions would be, eyes looking towards her and the sharp glance and twitch of his eyes gave away the idea churning in his head. Words spoken soon after only being more of a confirmation than anything else. "I'm going to prepare for a hell of a fight. I don't trust anyone in the Ministry, the one person I did? She's gone. I guess the Australian Minister of Magic -does- count now. . . But having association to me isn't good for his image and whatever he plans to do for the magical community." Shoulders rising up in a strengthening shrug before taking up his bag once more and latching it around his shoulders.
"I'll be. . . " A brief moment of hesitation, almost as if he had to consider how much he could give her. Whether it'd been out of trust or concern she may end up being a target for that information wasn't made entirely clear. "I'll be at Old Man Mackey's Shack. It's barely used, most of the scents that enter the area are easy to pick up because of its location. And it lets me keep my stalker's gaze far away from everyone else that way." Walking up to the woman, forehead leaning in to gently press against hers in an intimate fashion. "Thank you for taking care of Sigma and the Kittens, and try not to worry too much, alright?" Something else he knew would be far harder to do than to just say it as if it were the easiest thing to command in oneself.
Turning towards the door and walking towards the entry point of the Nursing wing. "If you see Meadow start fretting. . . Lend her hand a bit? This. . . Is probably really hard on her. Especially after everything her and I have been through." Speaking of the young teens name seemed to brighten his countenance another fraction, as much as Liv's presence held on him. He didn't give her much time to stop him or even speak before briskly walking along the corridor. Only the clicking of his shoes hastily retreating until there'd been faint sounds and then. . . Nothing.