He's patient. He tilts his head far enough to know there really are fangs (plastic fangs,) but he doesn't back off, either. He waits, his little smile patient, if mischievous. He doesn't, for all his games, really want to scare Eddy away. That wouldn't be the point of this at all. It's a very gentle balance right now.

And what Tybalt does with gentle balances is either dance along the razor's edge or fall directly on to it, nothing in between. He's not sure which he's doing, when he closes too much of the space between himself and Eddy, ostensibly so he can reach to whisper into his ear. One eye surveys the minion, his now-rival. "You know. If we go into the pod. He won't be able to find us."