we built this city on broken glass

Tetradore's assurance that he would make at least some effort to remember those lessons Frost had taken the time to attempt to teach today was seemingly all the reassurance the stallion required. The white-haired man merely nodding in ascension as he found his own place against the hood of that car, that illusion dropped from his figure to return himself to his usual appearance. Whether or not the panther truly would remember that lesson he hardly knew and yet- something in that promise had been sincere enough to prompt the war horse into believing him and for now- that was enough. That silence that settled over the pair was hardly uncomfortable in any sense. Both men, perhaps, far more willing to simply embrace that quiet then most. Neither particularly prone to great bouts of talkativeness- at least not until that alcohol had taken more of an effect. Frost hardly meant to witness those images that turned within the older man's mind then. The stallion unaware he had still maintained some measure of connection to tetradore's thoughts, that affinity one he was still learning to master and yet those thoughts came in a rapid succession. The Western WereKing turning over and over what Frost could only suspect was his last encounter with that bitch of vampire. She really had looked dead. His own features frowned slightly in consideration and yet, in a rare show of good nature the man made an effort to remove his mind from Tetradore's entirely, leaving the man and his thoughts in peace and private- the way they should be. Still, this was his war now too, in a sense, the more he could find out about the vampiric woman who might yet prove to be his enemy in turn- the better. Even if Tet knew so little about her, perhaps there were others who might know more. Maybe the council had records. Frost nothing if not thorough in his considerations. Yet- other curiosities intrigued him more for the moment.

That query on affinities was offered almost bluntly and yet if that Panther was no longer his enemy he saw little need not to find out just what the man could do. If he was ever required to fight beside him, rather than against him, then a knowledge of what they were capable off was surely sensible. Frost a decidedly practical creature even despite his less than friendly demeanor in most instances. He had hardly survived this long, after all, because he was prone to stupidity. He knew some of what his newfound ally was capable off and yet the rest of those powers remained something of a mystery. Perhaps the other Alpha possessed only a few and yet Frost found himself doubtful of that idea. An Alpha, of any sort, was rarely lacking strength. It was that venom he queried first, his features wrinkling slightly at the idea of it, another swig of that drink taken as he asked after that healing or lack thereof that acid might prompt. Frost eyeing the other man beneath that fringe of wild white hair with a genuine curiosity then. It made sense, he supposed, that something that acidic would hamper healing or prevent it entirely. Especially on a weakened or tired opponent. A glimmer of surprise managed to touch his near impassive features at that admittance Tobias, Tetradore's beloved Beta, bore a scar from that very venom upon his neck.

"You branded your Beta? Either way, I figure you made your point."

His own shoulder's lifted into a shrug of sorts, Frost hardly the sort of being to be bothered by the disciplinary actions of other Alphas. Teradore's pack was his own to do with as he saw fit. A small scar to the neck, in the scheme of things, was hardly life altering and Tobias seemed no worse for it. The stallions mind already considering another possibility.

"Have you ever tried harvesting it? If they can milk snakes and spiders for venom then why not you? You could easily tip knives or other weapons with that acid and arm your whole pack with it if you had too. Just a thought."

Ingenuity, it seemed, was hardly an issue for the Icelandic man. Frost having spent the better part of his life fighting one battle or another. The mans affinity for war decidedly...pronounced when he chose to engage it. His attention shifted then to that teleportation. A higher order power, at least, if that research was to be believed. Tetradore himself seeming to hold an almost genuine interest in the idea that such an affinity was rarely, if ever, randomly developed. His parents apparently lacking that talent, rather, this so-called family friend the likely source. Frost merely allowing one eye to lift upward in a look vaguely dubious. Whoever this 'friend' was, Tetradore was clearly protective off them.

"A family friend? Whoever they are you must be close to them, emotionally anyway. That's the way that power works, for the most part, not that anyone seems to know why. It's inherited via bonds. Genetic, vector or emotional. You don't just spontaneously learn to teleport- at least if that research is right."

His shoulders lifted into a shrug once more. Whether it was true or not he hardly knew. He had only known one teleporter outside of Tetradore himself. Darius having inherited that trait from his Mother before him. Frost's attention turned to that singular affinity the Panther had failed to mention- whatever it was that had kept him alive that night he should have died- or had died. Frost himself uncertain of just what had occured that evening. Tetradore, it seemed, not about to be forthcoming. The man simply uttering that whatever it was that had saved him that night was 'something else'. Frost merely affording him a grunt in response. If he didn't desire to share that secret then so be it. He could surely pilfer it from the mans mind if he desired to know that greatly and yet- for now at least- he merely let the curiosity pass. The Icelandic man returning that promised favour then with some description off his own talents.

That frown of sorts at his admittance of that affinity for healing himself at the price of others was hardly missed, Frost allowing his own eyes to roll lightly. For all tetradore was, for all he'd been through, he still seemed to care about those around him to a degree Frost hardly understood. Tetradore was not nearly so afflicted as Raven and yet how the man managed to summon that care for strangers he had little true idea. Frost finishing that drink then only to pluck another one from the collection at his feet. Drinking, it seemed, another skill the stallion possessed. The man answering that unasked question all the same.

"Think what you want of it, but if it came down to you or someone else- would you really let yourself die if you could heal instantly and live? I don't think you would."

There was no judgement within the words. Those cold, blunt lyrics merely stated as something of a fact. Few beings on this earth would ever willingly die if they could live at the expense of a stranger. Frost holding little issue with giving his wounds to another- or better yet- back to the one whom had given them to him to begin with. The man continuing on with that last power then, that one he did not fully comprehend. That 'closed off' feeling Tetradore provided saw him nod almost in consideration of that description before a soft snort at the notion it was capable of being circumnavigated if he could be made to feel that genuine fear left him. His lip quirking ever so slightly.

"That's what you were doing at my place that night. Do you know how long it fucking took to get the blood off my walls?"

There was no harshness in those words. Frost merely stating them once more. At hint of amusement finding those vocals all the same. After all, he could admit when another's work was worthy of some measure of praise. Tetradore's efforts that night had been admirable to say the least. After all, it had been a long, long time since he had felt any true fear akin to what the Panther had managed to stir to the surface. Fear was an emotion he would rather forget entirely- if he could. The other man's almost idle inquiry about other mind based powers and his ability to block them merely prompted another nod from the stallion, Frost lying back entirely atop that hood then, that bottle balanced with one hand upon his chest, the other folded behind his head.

"It blocks almost everything. I can choose to let a power affect me if I want, but for the most part anything that involves any sort of manipulation doesn't work on me, or at least, doesn't work all that well."

It was getting later, the sun ever so slowly beginning to set and yet, Frost saw little need to hurry to return to that city or his pack- not for tonight. He was hardly opposed to Tetradore's company in any real sense, if anything the near stoic nature of the other man almost appealed to him. That comfortable silence finding them once more as Frost's violet gaze drifted from the WereCat and towards the charred rubble of that home he claimed had been his own. His voice almost abrupt then and yet, even despite his own often frosted nature and guarded exterior he was not wholly inclined to waste an opportunity to speak to someone whom had experienced a like somewhat similar to his own.

"Most of your powers probably developed when you were free of that woman, didn't they?"

It was a question he largely suspected he knew the answer too already, after all, if Tetradore was anything like him then the vast majority of those affinities were likely discovered once he had found himself free- in some sense- from her influence. Another sip of that drink taken then. For all he could fault the WereKing for- poor liquor was certainly not it.

"It was rare, where I came from, for any of us to have more then one affinity- but the Hunters seem to prefer it that way. Easier for them to control I suppose if they know what each of us can do. Either way, I think the Will power developed because of them. The others didn't happen until I was out of that country entirely and until I met Alexander. He's a....friend. Some powers, I think, need something to happen or for you to meet someone before they activate. Can anyone in your pack do anything special?"

FrosT