If she hadn't been so entirely intoxicated, else heading that way, the woman may well have appeared almost nervous. Even with her surely dulled senses she seemed on edge, his violet gaze hardly missing the nervous way she picked at the wood of the bar or held onto her glass a little too tightly. She seemed anxious, distracted- even his approach seeming to do little to distract her thoughts as he easily eased himself into the seat beside her. It was curious indeed to find such a woman alone, her scent was most assuredly Were and more so, most assuredly fox- so long spent in the company of Claire resulting in his ability to detect that particular scent from among his own kind with ease. Yet her scent stood alone, untainted by any indication of pack and as such his curiosity in the slender young woman is only increased in those few moments before she manages to offer him a slurring words. Hmm, evidently she was drunk enough to slur her sentences slightly, yet not to entirely far gone as to have lost all sense- responding to the question he posed as he continued to watch her from beneath that forelock of shockingly white hair. A rarity on any human being. She seems to wobble a moment as she turns to face him- though he hardly makes any offer to reach towards her or restore her balance, quite content to allow her to find her own equilibrium before he became more intensely aware of the heated blush steadily blossoming cross her cheeks.
His powers make him so readily attuned to heat in any form, even something so mild as a blush as it burned her cheeks in his presence, lip quirking ever so slightly at the sight of her. Perhaps she was related to his little Claire in some fashion, evidently holding her same capacity to blush at his mere presence though for now he can hardly prove such a thing or finds it truly potent to his interest in the young woman. She was a pretty thing, yet most women her age tended to hold some level of intrigue for the stallion. Who did she remind him off?
"Another vixen I know, one of two, actually- foxes are not all that common in this area, perhaps you might know either of them."
He sees no need to add anything further, that one fox reminds him of another is surely not all that surprising, his conversation easy, light, word rolling smoothly from his lips as he offers them. The girl seems to maintain her discomfort however, seeming almost uneasy in his presence. Perhaps Alpha males always made her so, perhaps it was merely himself- the man hardly given to mind. He was used to a certain reaction to his presence- discomfort hardly the most offensive response to his existence he had ever experienced. After all- there are always those determined to challenge his dominance, determined to attempt to undermine his authority or seek to test his patience. Raven the latest and most unfortunate causality of his temper. It was rare, truly, that the man ever permitted any lack of control within himself and yet the wolf had simply pushed that tiny bit to far- her fractured, broken body the punishment she had received for her efforts. Tetradore should have kept a tighter rein over his pack, a disorganised pack was a weak pack and truly when he found the time and the weakest point within it, Frost remained determined to see how easy it might be to unravel Tetradore's little empire. He offers little more than the faintest hint of a simper at her blush, offering no further comment in regards to it as she surrenders her name. Cecily. Hardly a common moniker and yet names held little importance in the end, his own seeming to inspire the woman's curiosity all the same as she takes the offered hand.
"It is. Frost was the name my Father gave me as a child- I have been told that it suits. My Mother afforded me a proper name but I no longer use it- few can pronounce it correctly unless they are familiar with my language and I grew tired of it being mispronounced."
Another smile, a brief, momentary lift of his lips and little more though he sees no need to delve further into the peculiars of naming within his own country of birth. His birth name was near impossible for any whom did not speak the language, even it's westernized version was a moniker he rarely responded too. His name is personal- to an extent, something offered to family or riders alone and he has little ties to either of those. Her cheeks seem only to flush once more as his hand embraces her own- his mind once more reminded of Claire and the naive innocence of the girl. Were all vixens so very...untouched? How such attractive young women wandered about without male attention truly was curios, the poor creature before him seeming to have stressed herself once more, growing ever more flustered. The more submissive ones always were the more entertaining, far easier to deal with. She assures him they have hardly met before she claims to be leaving- her sudden invitation to follow seeing his gaze widen momentarily in a rarely seen look of fleeting surprise. It was hardly common to have a woman so blatantly suggest what it appeared she was suggesting and yet the panic that seems to overtake her feminine features mere moments later assures him that the implication- was not at all intended. Her drunkenness seeming to have swayed her words.
A chuckle of sorts hums within his throat, Frost moving to rise smoothly from his own bar stool as the red-faced woman blundered further onward before managing a sentence at last, his own hand waving in an easily dismissive gesture.
"Cecily."
He waits, the faintest trace of command laced within that word, demanding her attention as what could be seen of his gaze found her own once more, seeking to break her from her stuttering dissolution.
"I understood what you meant- do not stress yourself."
That same hand moves to gesture briefly to the door, words smooth, gentle now in some effort to actually stabilize the girls rampant anxiety, stepping easily to follow her out and onto the street at her side.
"Where do you live? I'll walk you home. I can't claim to know you- yet, though you seem a little.....anxious and there are lesser men then me on the streets tonight who might have enjoyed your stuttered proposal far too much. Now tell me, where did you come from before this city, hmm?"
His words are harmless, or seemingly so, polite inquiry and little else though each word seeks to steal just a little more information from her then the last, the equine a cunning creature to his core- his interest in this woman, for whatever reason- assured. For now however he simply seeks to know a little more about her.
Frostbite
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