frost.

frozen down to the core

This woman, Frost had decided, was a frustrating sort of person. The very kind whom chose to be annoying simply for the sake of it and yet- to display his own irritation with her would, in turn, surely give her more satisfaction then he was willing. In the very least she provided a challenge- which was far more than most. The vast majority of beings who kept his company outside of Alexander or how own pack so rarely seemed to keep it long. Frost, after all, was so hardly famed for his conversational abilities. The stallion was nothing if not notoriously icy. What sense of humour he did possess was so very dry it was often missed. The equine was equally un-inclined to small talk unless it held a decided point. Freeing his chair from the woman who held it captive however was a task the warhorse had deemed worthwhile- or at least for as long as it took Alexander to investigate what was occurring between them. Until then there was little harm in letting the woman believe that he was the owner of the cafe- rather than the blond hunter behind the counter. Not that this apparent authority had seemingly earned her co-operation. Her question of just why the chair she occupied was superior to any other, much less why he wanted it, was met with a momentary silence. Followed by an abrupt snort and a decidedly short answer. One that had seemingly left his companion unsatisfied as she further queried his seating preferences.

Frost's violet gaze shifted towards the stool the woman pointed to, along with the chair he himself occupied. His companion demanded to know why these chairs were any different. If he owned that cafe he surely owned them all regardless. For several more moments the equine was inclined to a silence of sorts as he considered that very thing. His fingers tapped near idly agianst the table. Hmmm. Perhaps she was a better opponent then he had given her credit for. Still- he was entirely inclined to be equally as frustrating in return. Why were the other chairs not as good as the one she occupied?

"I like that one better."

That, Frost was certain, was a decidedly irritating answer to provide her with. The stallion, in near the same breath, content to switch that topic of conversation to the woman's brother. A supernatural no less. She hardly had any excuse to be as oblivious to the supernatural world as she seemed to pretend then. It was at that very moment that the waitress finally chose to arrive, handing Frost the very cup of tea that had been spilled only moments before. A cup of tea Frost was, perhaps, willing to trade for the return of his chair and yet the woman remained...belligerent. Women. Frost reached to add a cup of sugar to 'their' tea then, his companions' insistence there was surely any left, prompted little more than a vague simper from the equine as he moved to tip that sugar jar forward and display what was, seemingly, a full jar. That muttered 'touche' uttered from the young woman was hardly missed. Frost merely affording her a nod in return. That game they played remaining skilfully unacknowledged beneath those courtesies they afforded one another. Yet still the woman remained, her arms folded in a clear sign of determination. How unfortunate it had come to this.

Frost's own form moved to lean back within the chair he occupied, that cup of tea remained within his hand as he lifted it to his lips once more in further contemplation. The woman, he was certain, needed to vacate that chair. She had certainly chosen the....most drafty seat in the house. Those very words had no sooner left the equine lips then his own power was content to embrace her. Frost so easily allowed that chill to cover her skin and bring down her temperature until she was nothing short of cold and uncomfortable. This, he was certain, was the ideal time to offer her his name. The stallion made little effort to conceal that near obvious connection between his moniker and the woman's sudden chill. His companion looked noticeably more frosty than she had appeared before. The soft snort that left the woman's nose prompted Frost's gaze to fixate upon her once more as he took another sip of that wonderfully warm tea. Her bold query on whether he had heard the phrase you caught more flies with honey than vinegar saw a scowl dance across his features.

"No. I haven't. English is not my first language. You might have to explain it to me."

Oh how clear it was from that very look upon his features that he was distinctly well aware of the phrase! The stallion simply chose to be as difficult as the woman appeared to be in turn. That battle, however, was seemingly far from over as she declared she would sooner give herself frostbite then give up that seat. God she was so infuriating! It was that gesture towards Alexander however and the insinuation that this might really be his cafe that truly managed to coax that flicker off...annoyance to Frosts features. That look a rare break in the stallion's facade. Frost lent forward to place that tea cup back on its saucer before sitting back in his own chair once more. The pair seemingly content to eye one another in a frigid, silent stalemate.

"Fine. Sit there then."

Those words were all but snapped towards the woman as Frost afforded a near daring glance toward Alexander. The hunter looked pointedly towards the pair then as Frost hurriedly looked away. This situation was rapidly declining. Perhaps he should make one final play in the hope it worked quickly before Alexander could stop him. A veritable all or nothing. That chair would be his.

"Your chair is on fire though."

That cold seemed to flee from the young woman in near the same moment as that rapid sensation of heat was aimed toward her. Frost, this time, allowed that heat to spread from her legs upwards, each second seeing it increase before smoke itself, seemingly, began to billow from that chair. Only for flames to begin to lick at its legs. Several other people, it seemed, had noticed that fire as several screams rang out. That combination of temperature control and illusion so effortlessly worked in the stallions favour. He just needed the woman to jump out of the chair. One second would be all it took for him to claim that victory- perhaps one second to sit in his newly won chair before Alexander got hold of him in turn.

The Hunter would murder him for this and yet how unwilling Frost was to lose....at anything.

Maybe he could outrun Alex. Maybe he could take his chair with him.