we built this city on broken glass

The violet gaze of the stallion continued to linger upon the woman before him even if any true ability of the Werewolf to see his eyes in turn was obscured beneath that fringe of white forelock. His fingers toyed idly with the edge of that cookie, his chewing near rhythmic and as controlled as every other part of his being so tended to be. That near notorious look of utter indifference lingering upon his features as if he held no true emotion about that conversation or those questions in any sense. The stallion long since having learned to master those emotions in every sense- perhaps to his own detriment. Frost so readily struggling to handle those more complex emotions in turn and yet he made no comment of ay such thing lest he somehow encourage that woman to pity him once more. The stallion simply unable to handle that notion another might feel sorry forhim. Even if, perhaps, such pity was well placed. Her query on the origins of those amulets at last seemed to prompt some manner of word for the cold creature. Frost assuring her simply he hardly knew why or when those medallions were bestowed upon those pack leaders, the truth having long ago been lost to idle stories and myths that he hardly believed- at least not in full. The woman's curiosity suddenly seeming to seize her again even despite that defeated slack off her shoulders. Raven asking to hear those very tales as Frost eyed her near incredulously once more. Why she would take so much interest he hardly knew. A part of the man almost anticipating some mocking from the woman even as she near nervously twisted that engagement ring on her finger. Frost snorting softly.

"The stories are long and this is not the place to tell them properly. I would need more time then we have to do them justice but, in short, one of the stories tells of the four packs preparing to go to war with one another. Back when the world was new the packs were truly large. Hundreds of Were's in each pack. A war between them all would be devastating. Each of the packs had something they believed the other wanted. A treasure, a secret, an area of land- something. Each was determined to defend that from the others. In an effort to prevent the Great War it is said the Gods themselves crafted the four medallions- allowing each of the Alpha's to protect the things their packs treasured most. Each of the medallions should lead you to each of the packs most treasured possessions or secrets. That is merely one of the stories though. Believe of it what you will."

His shoulders shrugged lightly once more, the man affording her several moments to further consider that tale as she asked after her own connection to those packs and what that near age-old bloodline could mean. Here, within this city, it meant decidedly little. Not to those who hardly cared to know of it. Within his own country though such lineage would surely be treated with distinctly more respect. Another bite of that cookie was taken then, Frost allowing one eye to raise ever so slightly as she queried more upon those gods, admitting to her own lack of knowledge upon those deities outside Roman or Greek. A part of the stallion content to consider the pleasure Alexander would have taken in someone displaying an interest in those grecian religions. Frost contemplating that query upon Fenrir, one of the many wolves in his own culture and yet perhaps by far the most infamous. Perhaps it was not unusual that Raven should take interest in them. Those cold, frosted words coming suddenly then.

"He's the son of the god Loki, the trickster god, and the giantess Angrboða, which makes him the brother of the serpent Jormungand and the underworld goddess Hel. The God's raised Fenrir themselves, they thought it would keep him under control, but he grew too fast. The gods became troubled and decided he should be chained. Their first two attempts were unsuccessful; For their third attempt, the gods had the dwarves forge the strongest chain ever built. Fenrir was suspicious of this chain though. He refused to come to them and be chained unless one of the Gods rested a hand in his mouth as a sign of good faith. Only Tyr was brave enough to do this, knowing that it would mean the loss of his hand. And, sure enough, when Fenrir found himself unable to break free of his bonds, he ripped Tyr's hand from its arm. The chain was then tied to a boulder and a sword was placed in Fenrir's jaws to hold them open. At Ragnarok, he broke free and ran throughout the world with his lower jaw against the ground and his upper jaw in the sky, devouring everything in his path. He killed the god Odin before finally being killed himself by one of Odin's avenging sons. I suspect he killed Odin because he was angry- do you blame him? He was betrayed by his Masters."

His own fingers tapped upon that table then, the stallion considering those very words for several moments longer before seeming to shake whatever thought touched him all the same. That faint simper touching his lips all the same. The man almost....enjoying speaking of those stories before he quickly sought to remove that look of pleasure all the same and return to that near apathetic look. His attention returned to that very medallion within his hands. The war horse commenting that he would read that translation only once. Raven hurriedly moving to fish her phone from her pocket to type down those very words he read- offering her that truly ridiculous ingredient list and yet if she held any desire to break that seal then she would need follow that very list. That very request was met with a snort of sorts. A pen plucked from his pocket as the stallion pulled a napkin towards him, that number scrawled upon it before being unceremoniously shoved in her direction.

"I have several mobile phones, that one is one of my secondary phones. Ring it and leave a message with what you want if I don't answer and I will get back to you."

That medallion was placed back upon the table then, those long fingers pushing it toward her as he had promised. The stallion seeing little need to abscond with some object he held no interest in. He held some suspicion of exactly what Fenrir's vault would hold, such a thing holding no value to him, his features remaining near blank all the same as the woman removed the rest of those amulets and pushed them towards him. His gaze lingered upon those near ancient objects once more, his fingers briefly extended to brush over the surface of that reptilian one as the one spoke of it. Someone, it seemed, had died for the object. A waste of life. A minor god was hardly worth the effort and yet that sam cold apathy existed all the same as those violet eyes met her own. That serpent medallion pushed back towards her.

"Níðhöggr. That is the creature upon it. A Minor god. A creature really- and it is worth nothing. It has already been activated and used. There is no magic left in that. The Hunter, this time, was chasing ghosts."

Had the man gotten hold of it before it had been used such a tale might well prove different and yet those artifacts were good only once. That amulet little more than an empty shell in every sense of the world. A paperweight and nothing more. Someone had mislead the Hunter- perhaps purposefully. His attention shifted then to the bird, one finger idly tracing that surface.

"Huginn and Muninn. Odin's Raven's and spies. This one can still be used. You will need the Noridc words to activate it but in short it will allow you, once only, to listen in to any conversation. You need only activate it and place it somewhere useful. When you return, any conversations that occured in its presence will be played back to you. At least thats what it claims to do. As for that- that is Freya. She is both a key and a Map- one that leads to a place that i suspect only your mate would ever find interest in. It is a ruin now."

FrosT