we built this city on broken glass

He was aware of her, even as she lingered outside that cafe door. Her mind was one of the ones he knew better. It was easier to find, easier to tune into ever since that time that had spent within the clutches of that deranged Hunter and yet- Frost held little interest in her mind today. He knew what lingered there. He had seen it. The stallion drawing his affinity away from those ever-present horrors that forever seemed to ligner in those darkened places no matter how firmly she tried to chase them away. That was the thing about darkness, it clung like a shadow so eternally following- no matter how much light you shed on it. His attention returned to that book before him, Frost content to ignore Raven and her presence as his violet gaze ran across those icelandic words, his lips moving lightly as he read. This was not giving him the information he needed. It was outdated. Old. Those hand-drawn maps that decorated the next page were missing several geographic features he knew existed and one volcano that had clearly been undiscovered when this book was written. Damn it all to hell. He was going to have to find something more modern and yet the internet was off limits. They would know the moment he hunted for this maps- giving away his plans within a matter of hours. The chance of that city library having the sort of book he needed was equally as limiting. Perhaps Alexander himself might have the sort of map he needed. God knew the man had enough of them. The amount of books that lined the Hunter's personal quarters upstairs might also prove equally as fruitful. He'd ask him about it tonight. Without some sort of map there was every chance he'd merely end up lost on that frozen fucking Tundra again. He couldn't waste that time. Besides, those snowfields were too vulnerable and exposed. He needed a direct path.

A soft sigh of sorts left him then, his fingers tapping against the wood of his favoured table, the stallion consumed with his own thoughts until the sudden appearance of Raven saw the man glance upward. Those violet eyes, buried beneath that strange white hair, lifting to meet her own as she placed a cup of tea down on that table only to take the seat opposite him. Had the woman taken leave off her senses? Evidently she had. The girl proceeding to place a plate of various baked treats down before him. A peace offering? Either that or she had been afflicted with some sort of foolish possession of christmas cheer. That moment near oddly reminiscent of Tetradore's own actions that day some weeks ago when the other Alpha had taken that same seat and offered that deal of sorts. Raven, it seemed, had merely come to offer him....sugar, if her words were to believed. Frost regarding her silently for several moments. His fingers pausing in that taping motion as if considering that very offering. Had one beating not been enough for the woman? A single hand reached silently forward then, Frost plucking a gingerbread man from that pile. It's head snapped suddenly and unceremoniously off before being slipped between his lips. Had Tet told the woman about his like for sugar? Perhaps it didn't damn matter.

"Your pack does seem to enjoy interrupting my afternoons."

Whether or not he even enjoyed that cookie remained to be seen, the words offered as cooly and emotionlessly as always. The stallion offering little explanation for that curious sentence all the same as the woman bit into her own treat as if to prove they were hardly poisoned. Frost swallowing his own bite then as the woman proceeded to offer those reasons why she was here. How sad that she had not simply come to have afternoon tea with him. The mention of those very medallions saw the stallion pause, that motion near imperceptible and yet she had managed to grasp his attention all the same. Frost silently breaking a leg off that poor gingerbread fellow now and slip between his lips. At least she had baking talent. He could hardly deny that.

"You mean the medallions you refused to give me?"

One eye lifted beneath that forelock of hair then. Frost content to remind her of her own deliberate unhelpfulness from all those months ago. The man leaning back within his chair then, that gingerbread still held between his long fingers as he continued to pluck at that treat. He had managed to collect those artefacts he needed even without Raven, in the end and yet her refusal to cooperate had hardly been forgotten in all that time. The woman having diligently clung to that single one she had owned even despite her lack of knowledge on what it truly was. That she had taken to collecting more was obscure, given her utter inability to read them and thereby activate them. What a strange creature she was.and yet he had long since come to the conclusion that the woman was of no use to him. She was loyal though, in the least, that part of her almost astounding. It was such a shame about all the other parts though. Frost speaking abruptly once more.

"They are written in ancient Norse. I can read them, because I am Icelandic- our language is built on the Nordic tongue. I know what they are, what they do and how to use them and yet why on earth should I afford you any of that knowledge? The goodness of my heart sadly does not extend that far. Nice cookies though, you have baking talent, for what it's worth."

He could be pleasant- when he tried. His fingers tapping against that table again as he regarded the woman levelly. What reason did he have to help her?

"Of course, I might be willing to help you- for a price."

FrosT