It was an intriguing quandary to be sure, that sheer suggestion of a power that could see into the thoughts of any man - to peel away that thin veneer that so protected them all from the world at large. It was a mighty aptitude, one that both baffled him and terrified him all at once. His emerald eyes shifted towards his companion as Frost only confirmed that very affinity, the man surely plucking from his mind those very considerations. A small frown crossed his features at that admittance of that ability and yet, he said little of Frost's assurance that such a gift was truly anything but. He could imagine, certainly how it would be little more than a hindrance. Men were not meant to know those inner thoughts of other men. The relationship problems Frost must surely have, to know every tiny annoyance and frustration every soul had with him. He could understand well why the man might have such a prickly exterior. Tetradore himself would have certainly chased everyone away if only for a glimpse of peace and quiet. It was a power that would have driven him mad and for that, Frost was a better man. However, though that gift could surely be a curse, he could equally understand how it had the ability to make the equine damn near unbeatable.

It was that consideration that so prompted that realization within him that his own defeat had been quite near guaranteed. With such an ability, tactics were near rendered useless. Frost's ability to command his body temperature had already been problematic but this....this was something else entirely. Nadya had been correct in everything. She had been right to throw her strength with the far more proficient pack. He had been right to attempt to coax him to fall to his knees and submit to the man rather than face death a second time at her boyfriend's hands. It was a dismal realization, to be sure, one he was careful to keep from displaying upon his features. That belligerent tone he was near greeted with caused his gaze to flutter to the man at his side and yet, Tetradore merely offered his companion a small shrug. "I am not being a fool, I'm a realist." He stated simply, lifting his arms to cradle his head as he leaned back against the hood of that car. Was that not what he was trained to do, after all? He was meant to assess hi enemies, find their weaknesses, and kill them. How quickly or slowly depended wholly upon his mistress' preferences. Beyond attacking the equine from above and crushing his skull, Tetradore would quite simply lose in any sort of prolonged battle. It just was the way it was.

As it was, Tetradore hardly succumbed to that oblivion of self-loathing. Quite on the contrary, the man made every effort to steady his thoughts upon the present. It was a method he knew well, one he had employed many a times to cope with whatever horror Risque had forced upon him. It was those inquiries he so easily threw his attention towards, the man answering with the same sort of bluntness as he had thus far. After all, there was no longer a reason to hide exactly what he was up against, there was no reason to keep that past from his companion or the monstrosities his mistress was capable of committing. His own information of the woman was decidedly limited, of that he knew well. Frost's reaction, although subtle, provided enough of an indication to show the steed's thoughts on those rather dejecting odds they so stood up against. Even so, Tetradore hardly hesitated, switching that conversation all too easily toward his companion's own vector. His experiences with the woman were certainly peculiar, and though she had turned him down originally, he fully intended to ensure she knew that offer remained for her, if her maker allowed it. That alliance was, perhaps, more important than any one singular member.

He hardly expected, once those details of that deal were worked out, to be afforded even a glimpse into his companion's past. Those very words, few and vague though they were, spoke volumes to that life that Frost had lived. Much less to the unique understanding the man was able to gain from Tetradore's own tale. Despite those words of caution he provided his companion with, the were-King had little intention of stepping on their relationship, much less putting any sort of divide between the two. After all, it was better that Nadya stay with the Icelandic man, if only for the safety he would sure provide her and his niece and nephew. Rather, Tetradore was all too willing to offer some sort of.....brotherly reassurance that those fears Frost might have held of his own haunting past were now his concern as well. His own abilities, though far inferior, were certainly easily added to the mix to stand up against Frost's nightmares. It was the least he could do in return. That hint of emotionalness between the two men, however, was all together fleeting, replaced in stead with the far more comfortable topic of alcohol.

It seemed only natural, really, that such a deal should be done over booze. It was only once the pair of men had shaken hands to cement that very accord that Tetradore bothered to employ his own affinity. That threat of the loss of that Bugatti, however, caused his gaze to shift to the blue-hued sports vehicle. "I wouldn't dream of it." He commented simply, those shadows quite near racing to his figure before the man simply disappeared from view. Acquiring that liquor from his own stocks was hardly difficult at all, those bottles plucked with ease from his own bar before the were-King returned with booze in hand - if only for the safety of his own vehicle. Those words of approval prompted a small grin upon his lips. He handed that bottle of Whiskey to his companion, those bottles of beer placed at their feet next to the now empty box. Tetradore himself was all too willing to sip upon that Whiskey the moment it was returned to him, entirely unprepared for exactly how enthusiastic Frost was of this lesson. Even so, the man was certainly attentive to that information he was provided. It was, he supposed, hardly new really, after all Risque had used her own affinity for illusions to simply subject the man to reliving scenes he abhorred, things he knew were not real just as she too utilized them to so fool him of her death.

He was silent of this, however, his emerald eyes simply following his companion as Frost reached for that bottle of alcohol, only to pull bottle after bottle from that singular one. His eyebrow rose ever so lightly at those words of encouragement, his gaze briefly shifted to those bottles only to turn again to his companion as Frost's affinity for illusions once again toyed with that reality, transforming his own appearance into one far more like Tetradore himself. "That's.....creepy....." He muttered, clearly taken back by that appearance. That pun, however, was hardly lost upon him, the man simply snorted in response. Even so, he still made an effort to follow through with that challenge of sorts. He eyed those bottles for several long moments, ensuring those labels matched and the shapes themselves seemed...similar, much less the liquid contents. All of it looked, by first appearances alone, perfect. Even so, it was a shot in the dark that prompted him to select a bottle from that line up, the man hardly surprised with that scowl or declaration that he was wrong. His own eye was, perhaps, not keen enough to spy that difference between them and yet, didn't Frost say he only needed to make the illusionist themselves weaker? His gaze shifted briefly towards that figure of himself in consideration. "Well, if I get to drink for getting it right, then surely you should get a drink for doing so well." Okay, so maybe he sounded a bit too much like a teacher awarding a child for a good job. But hey, all he needed to do was get Frost hammered enough, right? It seemed like a good plan. Onto the next wrong bottle....