Those teasing words upon the young woman's lips as she rose were hardly missed. The violet of his gaze watching as she lowered her drink to rest upon that blanket before moving to take up that offer of that age-old, cultural dance. It was, by design, so intended for two horses to perform, one that required a precision of movement, anticipation of action and so finding that same pace and rhythm when one assessed another for suitability on more than one level. Once, so many years ago, it had been used to find the fittest amongst them, the most eligible bachelor, in a sense. Every young woman of the right age given the chance to dance with every young man in their equine forms until those pairs so inevitably happened. Tonight, Frost remained assured he could alter those actions to make use of their hands, to perform those movements in a way as to make use of their human forms and yet still hold the same meaning. Nadya was a dancer by trade, her ability to follow choreography surely one of her stronger traits and yet too, that stallion could hardly deny he was curious as to just how well she might find rhythm with him and whether or not she would be willing to follow his lead in that subtle dance of give and take. Take direction, after all, was not in either of their natures.

Her assurance that such a dance was similar to a waltz was met with a simple nod from the snowy-haired man. Some of the steps, he would admit, were truly similar to the beginning of the traditional waltz and yet a number of them too were designed entirely to be completed with four legs, Frost so adjusting that dance to make up for their human forms tonight. There was a fluidity to her movements all the same, Frost finding himself intrigued by how quickly she seemed to comprehend those steps, the faintest simper touching his features as he shifted their position then- taking the lead now. There was little resistance in her frame, Nadya, so at last, relenting to his lead- that stallion aware of that shift in her form, in her allowing him to guide her as the dance dictated. Her dress beneath that moonlight, the sway of his hips and too her svelte form were hardly wasted on him. He was not, by nature, prone to those overt shows of emotion or even allowing others to know where his attention lingered. The man entirely held behind those walls and shields and yet he was unable to stop the way his eyes lingered on her or the faint tug of those more instinctive urges. Those wants and desires new to him in some sense. After all, no woman had ever stirred those feelings within him of his own accord. He had been made to feel, once. These emotions however had developed of their own accord and just for her. She was important, no matter how he tried to deny it. She mattered to him. He cared what she thought. He wanted her. Her steps falling so easily in time with his own as that dance at last came to a halt, her hands resting in his own. Something close to a genuine smile daring to tug at his features.

His name, his true name, upon her lips saw his head lift upwards, a soft 'hmm' upon his lips. The man almost unused to hearing it. After all, it had been year since he had last been among any who knew it let alone were close enough to be entitled to say it. Her question saw one eye lift softly upward as she inquired as to that moniker that might be afforded to a significant other, Frost pausing for only the barest of moments as his hands dropped from her own to rest upon her waist with that gentleness so many believed him incapable off. He could be kind when he had reason to be so, he could care when he wanted to. Such emotions however so often proved difficult if only for how long he had spent denying them.

"Kærastan."

He pulls her against him then, his actions bolder then they often were. After all, for all he might be there existed a knowledge of just how to treat a woman he cared for, Frost hardly demanding in any sense and yet with that newly afforded title so placed upon her he was assured he might be allowed a little as his lips so smoothly found her own. The stallion entirely content to kiss the woman that now, in some sense, so belong entirely to him. Frost having been assured since the moment he met her that this was where she belonged. His persistence it seemed, finally rewarded.