we built this city on broken glass

It was almost a relief to break that tree line, to be free of those confined trails and the reaching, scratching fingers of those trees that loomed over them, growing small and smaller the deeper into that undergrowth they had pressed. It was a foolish fear. Frost near loathing its hold upon him and yet even within his human skin it was the same. It was as if those narrow spaces somehow had less air then the rest of the world. As illogical as such a thought was. His equine mind often content to exemplify that fear even further if only because it was instinctive and yet despite that desire to merely flee in some panic from that undergrowth with its strange shapes and shadows and booming echos of thunder the man remained near determined to hold his line right up until they followed those deer out and onto that rain drenched field and into the beginnings of that battle itself.

They had positioned themselves well, Frost knew it the moment they struck that field and yet they would have merely moments to make up that small space of ground and reach those tethered horses before their Hunter riders had a chance to mount them- else Darius teleported himself clear. The black stallion unable to be held by those bridles as the others were. Frost's own pace readily increased, that field finally permitting that extension off his limbs, Alexanders desire for only more speed pacing like a single thought between the pair as the stallion merely threw all the more energy into that breakneck gallop. That oncoming impact proved far to much for one little mare, Frost vaguely noting her youth as that bridle finally snapped and sent her fleeing across the middle of the field in those precarious seconds before Alexander's blade sliced that air. He had hardly seen the man summon that sword, his own lack of vision robbing him from the sight of that bloodied blade as it swung past. Frost simply trusting Alexander's skills enough to prevent so accidentally slicing the white stallion himself in the midst of that battle. Darius too, it seemed, had well anticipated that strike, that stallion evaporating mere seconds before Frost;s own figure was set to collide with the other equine, that singular cuss muttered within his mind as he swung wide to face that field again. That faint scent of blood permeating the rain along with Alexanders assurance he had indeed struck the horse- though how well remained to be seen.

Any further thought of Darius or Xerxes was near forgotten in the wake of that singular remaining immortal, his bay stallion still tethered to that tree as it swung wildly onto its hind legs over and over in some effort to free itself from those very ties designed to hold it there. If the fools had left their horses free that very problem might have been eliminated. Frost hardly seeing a need to critique those very factors that fell in their favour all the same. The stallion instead aware of that silent command at Alexander's heels to slow. Slow? Surely slow was hardly what they needed!? Yet he had so told the man he trusted him. That near argumentative mindset shifting into that reluctant agreement all the same. Frost, tonight, inclined to that obedience as his limbs shifted, slowing that pace as commanded. His ears laced back all the same at that charging Immortal with his pike, that stallions teeth entirely ready to offer his own defense as those muscles tensed to dance sideways. The sudden appearance of that shield however saw his own figure pause. That sharpened pike tip barely scraping that surface as the man wielding it, the very man whom had fired a crossbow bolt at his head, suddenly....stopped.

That really is a handy thing you do.

He commented simply, his feet shifting to turn his body just so and allow Alexander a better view of that man he addressed, putting that field itself within range off his own vision. His ears pricked forward, listening into that dark just in case another one of their men held a long range weapon. A slither off his attention remaining on the Hunter and Immortal all the same. The Persian man appearing....confused, as if wavering between desiring to attempt to stab Alexander again or offer the man that information he asked for. Frost inclined to wish the damn fool would hurry up with his answer either way. Those battles so had a habit of heating his own blood, that adrenaline coursing thickly within it as he shifted in place once more. Those unseen enemies teasing at his thoughts, Frost desiring to move again. That Immortal suddenly breaking out into speech and yet that ancient-persian tongue was beyond his own understanding. Did Alexander understanding it? That sudden pointing gestures however, was near universal. The man pointing across the field and into the darkness to the left. Frost's own gaze straining into that night. The rain washing away the scent of those other horses as quickly as the thunder dimmed the sound of other hooves. How close were they? Had Xerxes regrouped?

It was sudden, that thought, passing across his mind like a burn to the skin. Frost so barely having a chance for his affinity to seize it and work out just who it had come from or even offer that warning. His own forehooves slammed into the ground, Frost throwing himself backward and onto his hind legs in that sudden rear upwards with precious little warning to Alexander of that movement and yet- that arrow so aimed at his legs flew beneath them. Missing it's target with the action. That sharpened head slamming with a dull thud into that tree behind. Someone, in the least, could see them. Frost propelled himself readily forward and back onto all-fours then. That Immortal hurrying to untie and mount his own horse as Frost shifted back into that canter, circling now to prevent themselves offering an easy target a second time as that lightning lit that field ago. This time- offering a view of those other riders across that field. That Scout so apparently having found them, the bow within his hand as he and his horse flanked Xerxes left side. The other Hunter too having managed to catch his little mare and mount it, that man taking up that other side, Xerxes sitting near languidly atop Darius between and slightly behind his guards. He had never seen Xerxes lead a charge. Not in all the years he had known him. The little man would never go first- not unless he had too. Frost vaguely aware off each of those man undoing those bows from their saddles now, those arrows notched in perfect coordination. That voice of Xerxes rising from above that storm and across that field then. "You will not even reach me, Alexander, nor will your little minion you stole from me. Charge across this field as you so love to do. I dare it off you."

Those words broke off into that persian once more, Frost hardly needing to understand them to know that order had been given to kill that Immortal man Alex had pilfered right along with the Macedonian himself. The -thwack- of those bowstrings echoing into that pause in the storm as that first volley of arrows was unleashed in their direction with very intention of preventing them ever crossing that field t reach Xerxes himself- lest they arrive as pin cushions.

FrosT