i used to rule the world

seas would rise when i gave the word

The Macedonian King certainly should not have been surprised to discover those equine were just was capable of that human thought as his own companion and yet, he found it distinctly curious that Xerxes saw fit to degrade them to such a point. The psychology behind his motives were easy enough to understand and yet, even if the man was attempting to treat those men like the animalistic creatures they were, the Dark Hunter still found such handling of those equestrian kind to be repulsive. That frown was altogether clear upon his features at Frost's first hand account of what life was like beneath Xerxes thumb. He was hardly surprised, on one hand. After all, the Persian man had just as freely murdered his own King in hopes that his aspirations would become a reality. Look at how well that had turned out for him. His lips pressed together as Frost continued, mentioning not only that council but too Xerxes own habits to clearly ride his horses to death. It was a shame that such lives were so meaningless, that such magnificence was not wholly understood to it's fullest capacity. For all his love of Bucephalus, for all the stallion had simply understood, Alexander was hardly oblivious that he would surely pale in comparison to the ivory Alpha, if only the man was willing to reach his fullest potential.

"Xerxes first and then I will deal with the council." He muttered in a particularly dark tone, one that promised some sort of retribution though he hardly voiced why such a tale has so frustrated the ancient Monarch. Rather, Alexander merely turned from his companion, moving up those stairs to collect that clothing he desired for the evening's event. He was hardly attentive, in that moment, to Frost's visual perusal of that flat, his own thoughts solely focused that upcoming battle and his intentions to seize that victory at all costs. The King was altogether keen to dwell upon each and every meticulous detail as he pulled those boots over his socked feet. He hardly noticed the way Frost seemed to eye that painted depiction of his own steed, one that Alexander was certainly incapable of forgetting if only for that bond the pair had once shared. In fact, it wasn't until Frost continued with that information he had to offer that the Hunter glanced upwards, those options offered to him prompted a small wrinkle in his forehead. It hardly took much longer for the King to conclude exactly how he intended to initiate that battle, with such limited options he had to hope on taking advantage of what he knew not only of horses but too those immortals and the environment he was presented with. Those men were certainly not prepared for what the personification of War was capable of bringing.

That inquiry of a saddle, however, drew Alexander from those near murderous thoughts, the man quickly brushing off that mention of a saddle with the simple reminder that he had existed long before such luxuries had been considered apart from the norm. That inquiry as to why that feline pelt was so often seen depicting his own Bucephalus' spine, however, prompted a mere shrug from the man. "Just because I can ride without one does not mean I need to. Some comforts were needed to make that constant march easier." After all, he had marched the Macedonian army through some of the worst conditions on foreign terrain, those months spent upon the horse's back had been grueling, in some aspects. He hardly dwelled upon that life lost for very long, the hunter instead informing his companion exactly what his plan of attack was for the evening, the man clearly providing himself with a fall back with the ability to push them onto that open field if his primary plan to dispatch of Darius first failed. After all, Alexander was known for being particularly thorough. That nod of acceptance prompted a returning one of his own, at least until that mention of Siberia and vampire blood. The memory of that cold was enough to prompt a scowl upon his features. At the very least, tonight's battle was far closer to home, cleaning up in the aftermath would certainly be far easier than those days they'd spent trekking through that white wilderness.

Still, it was with that final assurance that Alexander gestured his companion down those stairs, that coat securely wrapped around him. He was ready for that battle, entirely prepared for that hour long ride to get the pair in that position he deemed most beneficial for their victory. He could hear that crinkle of fabric as Frost began to undress, the man simply followed his companion out that door, those discarded jeans plucked from the wet cobblestone and tossed to that same armchair inside whilst Frost busied himself with that shift. He turned towards that door, locking the entrance to the cafe behind him before those keys were shoved into his pocket. He flicked that hood upwards, protecting him, for now, from the rain only for his hand to reach out for the mane of that horse - finding nothing but air. He glanced upwards at the stallion, reaching out once more for the horse only to find Frost purposefully sidestep him once again. "You've got to be fucking kidding with me." He stated, that annoyance quite clear within the depths of that accent. Here they were, on the brink of battle and Frost was once again playing his games?! That rough shove of the horse's face against his pocket prompted a rather loud, exasperated sigh from his lips. "If you get indigestion from this, it's your own damn fault." He stated, reaching into his pocket for that treat he had intended to provide the horse after they had murdered Xerxes. He held out that apple, a glimpse of irritation upon his features even as Frost took it from his hand, providing him with his leg in the aftermath of that treat.

Alexander easily lifted himself up onto the stallion's back, the man settling easily with those muttered curses still under his breath. His heels touched Frost's side, encouraging the horse forwards. He hardly pushed the equine in any fashion, entirely willing to let Frost preserve his strength for that battle ahead. That ride to the forest was certainly chilling, to say the very least, his fingers near freezing and yet, he tried his best to keep that blood flowing all the while. He needed to be nimble for what was to come. It was only when that treeline came into view and Frost came to a slow standstill that Alexander shifted, the man sliding off of his companion as he surveyed that forest. His gaze turned towards the ground, quite clearly hunting for something amongst that rain and mud. It was a pile of leaves that saw him stop quite abruptly, beckoning his companion towards him. "I need you to smell of earth and forest." He stated quite abruptly, that point quite clear. He had every intention of attempting to mask that scent of them by rolling in the leaves and mud and dirt. It was a terribly crude antic and yet, it was what hunters had done long before those fancy sprays and scent reducing soaps had existed. First, scent and then, perhaps, he could find those deer he required far easier.