i used to rule the worldseas would rise when i gave the word

The oceanic hue of his gaze lingered upon his steed as he stared at the woman across from him. It was decidedly rare that his stallion decided to socialize with anyone, particularly the patrons that frequented his cafe. She, however, was someone new - her face one that he failed to recall entirely. He could feel the usage of Frost's affinities, though in what capacity he could only garner from his observations of the pair's continued interaction between the taking of orders at the bustling register. Now, however, his influx of customers had momentarily diminished and the pair were seemingly at some sort of stalemate. His brow furrowed in contemplation, his arms folded over his chest as he simply observed the pair. The very last thing he had anticipated, however, was the sudden presence of smoke at the base of her chair. He knew, instantly, that this was merely a manifestation of his steed's power. Those airy tendrils of smoke didn't exist - nor did the flames that suddenly burst into existence at her feet. Her scream echoed through the cafe, drawing attention to her before the smoke did. How quickly pure chaos broke out in his cafe!

His patrons leapt from their seats, their screams joining hers as many made a mad dash for the exit, making Alexander's advancement all the more difficult as he struggled to maneuver around bodies determined to get in his way. His brows furrowed as he watched the young woman leap up her chair, her shoes placed upon the plush material of the seat cushion in a desperate attempt to escape the upward crawl of those flickering assault of illusions. Frost hardly seemed to notice his approach, the stallion far more focused upon scowling at the woman. Alexander approached just at the tail end of the words that left his war-horse's lips - words that were cut off rather quickly as he reached out to grasp the top of his right ear only to yank it with enough force to demand Frost's attention. His tone alone spoke volumes of his mood, even without the usage of the steed's true name. How he was loath to see his cafe reduced to such a state of panic and frenzy - even more so when it was his own mount causing such problems with his own childish antics. If the horse wished to be juvenile, Alexander had little qualms in treating him as such. Frost's protests were largely ignored, Alexander failed to cease his tugging even as he insisted Frost immediately stop pretending to burn his furniture lest the man found himself banned from enjoying any of it.

His features remained hard, his eyes narrowed as he watched Frost's gaze drift between the girl, to himself, and back again. His steed was clearly weighing his options, though what dispute he had with the harmless mortal, Alexander knew not...nor did he terribly care either. His grip tightened upon his warhorse, as if in a silent reminder that the Dark Hunter had particularly fraying patience for the man as it was. The excuse upon Frost's lips prompted a growl from the Macedonian - "Rixon...." The singular word was laced with a tone of warning, one that the stallion chose to heed but moments later with a groan of irritation. Those flames flared upward in a final glimpse of defiance, prompting a scream from the young woman before they finally disappeared altogether. Alexander released his grip upon Frost's ear the very moment those illusions dissipated and yet, he had little intention to leave. Rather, the blue-green of his irises met the combative stare of his mount, the Dark Hunter hardly inclined to back down even against the Alpha's own dominant nature. Oh, surely Frost knew not to go up against Alexander himself! How many times had they waged this war of wills - albeit not recently. Surely the steed knew exactly how this would end.

It was the frigid words upon Frost's lips that caused his brow to furrow, the Dark Hunter's glare hardly wavering. "No, do you see how many patrons I lost. Not to mention this mess you caused!" He gestured briefly around him at the fallen over chairs and spilled drinks in his patrons mad rush to flee from the scene. Few had stayed, the once bustling busy cafe now sparsely populated and yet, those few customers that had stayed were openly gawking at the confrontation taking place within the corner at the front of the cafe. The very last thing he had expected, however, was for Frost's insistence that he was fired for poor customer service - in his own cafe, at that! His brows rose in clear incredulousness, the man entirely taken aback and yet, how it caused his own irritation to flare! His arms crossed over his chest. "I'm fired?" He inquired, his tone holding a notable hint of disbelief intermingling with annoyance. "Well then, Frost, it looks like you're going to have to clean up this mess yourself. " He glanced over his shoulder at his barista, only to bark out an order to her, "Olivia, get me a mop." Alexander reached out to grasp the collar of Frost's shirt, altogether hauling him out of his seat irregardless of the difference in the pair's height. His barista scrambled to fetch the cleaning supplies he requested, only to tentatively bring both mop and bucket to her employer. The Dark Hunter all but thrusted them at his mount, only to point towards the spilled drinks that littered the floor of the cafe. "You best get at it then, since I don't work here anymore." He informed his steed, only to turn and settle almost comfortably within the seat Frost had moments ago occupied, his level gaze hardly once deviating from the Were-Horse.