This was getting decidedly tiresome. Either someone was playing a game with him, someone whom knew those facets of his past that but a handful of beings still living were privy too. Else he was beset of a poltergeist. The Nordic man uninclined to believe in those legitimate ghosts or that one of those many souls whom had fallen to his hooves over the years had so returned from beyond the grave with a determination to seek vengeance against him for a death wrongfully carried out. It was those flowers that littered his bloodied bedroom and hall and front lawn that so drove his thoughts towards the most recent of deaths listed beneath his name. This hardly seemed the work of Raven. The woman too meek, to shy to dare to trespass into his pack home and yet the evident calculation behind it so seemed to rule out that lanky deviant whom Frost had perhaps anticipated all along and yet an all-out battle would have been more the style to be expected from Tetradore's utter imbecile of a Beta whom held all the intelligence of a slice of toast. This sort of forethought, this rather meticulous planning and clear intent seemed beyond the miscreant boy. In fact, if he hardly knew better the stallion would be inclined to think it was the work of Aiden himself. That thought dismissed from his mind almost as soon as it had settled. Those violet eyes casting a final look at his bloodied walls, that potent scent of blood driving him from the room more readily then he cared to admit. His very species was designed to flea at the scent or sight of it, those instinctive urges pressing upon him and yet he merely strode into the hall with that same practised calm he exercised in most things. His voice echoing now throughout that empty home.

It was someone connected to Nightshade, somehow, of that he was entirely sure. His thoughts dancing between Alexis and Tobias still and yet without that knowledge he had truly little to act upon. The man entirely suspicious all the same as the faintest of sounds from the kitchen seemed to draw his attention then. He moved with ease towards that part of the house, his own affinity summoned to life to surround his form with that shield of heat. Frost determined to incinerate anything that might attempt to leap at him from the darkness. Those mental shields firmly in place in turn lest anyone attempt an assault in a less than physical manner. The sudden flickering of those lights above saw the stallion pause, his singular good eye cast upward towards the fitting above as is sputtered several times and died entirely as if following the script of some horror film. A grumble of sorts parted his lips. The man pausing a moment longer to allow his eyes to adjust to the darkness, his species natural ability to see within the gloom readily seeing the man move forward a moment later- the sound of scratching resulting in his head jerking to the side. What in gods name was that?

Another flicker of irritation rose within him. The man stepping into the kitchen then with every intention of continuing into the dining room- the sudden realisation that something or, more so, someone was standing upon his table seeing the man jerk back with a cry of alarm that fell near instinctively form his lips, each muscle tensing as his affinity lashed wildly towards it. Only to find he could reach nothing and no one. His 'target' failing to respond. Those heat signatures unchanging if only because there were none to grasp onto. It was that single moment of clarity that saw the equine reach up, brushing those white locks aside to eye what was clearly a set of chairs stacked atop one another and put in turn atop his table. It was the simple...oddness of it that so seemed to unsettle the man if only slightly, Frost shaking his head, one hand resting upon the table- that simple motion enough to unbalance those precariously balanced chairs entirely. Frost lunging forward to save only one from crashing to the floor as that unholy noise echoed throughout. A soft snort erupting from within him now. That single chair he held tossed to the side with abandon now. He had truly had about enough of these stupid games that were serving to do little more then irritate him. The man unwilling to acknowledge perhaps those first few tendrils of genuine fear that existed somewhere within as he stepped over those scattered chairs and into the dining room.

"Threw out my apples, bastard."

It was little more than a murmur beneath his breath, the man having spied that bin on his way past and yet he hardly intended to afford his 'ghost' the true satisfaction of knowing it displeased him as he stepped into that utterly torn up dining room. One hand reached gingerly towards that wall paper, fingers tracing those slashes. Discontent turning in him now. Unease tugging at him. Tetradore had died. He was sure of it. His thoughts progressed no further, that sudden growl seeing the man pivot in place, prepared to lash out with his power again only to find that space behind him empty as he stumbled back into the hall. It was those flickering, malfunctioning lights that saw the stallion draw his attention down that darkened hallway and towards the shadowy figure situated at the end of it, green eyes aglow in the gloom. The panther sitting as if he was entirely alive. It was an illusion. It had to be. Someone playing a far more dangerous game with him now and yet he could see the heat signature rising from the man. He could feel it. Living beings alone were warm. Had Tetradore...survived that night? Yet if he had, why had it taken him months return? Unless this truly was some sort of malevolent spirit, the sort he had never believed in before and yet his bloodied bedroom and torn walls seemed to linger at the forefront of his mind.

"You're dead. You died"

He took a single step towards that giant cat, halting once more, Frost, for the first time, so indecisive about his next action. The stallion trying to decide whether the man before him was alive or dead. Ghost or man. The very first cracks forming in that mental shield that surrounded him with that uncertainty seeing it waver. Disbelief touching his voice.

"I saw you die."

Yet had he? Had he truly? He had seen a man disappear. Not die. Not really and yet it seemed an impossibility, those violet eyes narrowing darkly now and yet he still came no further forward. He could hardly shift in this narrow space, Frost distinctly outmatched here and ghost or otherwise he knew it. The man vulnerable. A sensation he greatly disliked. The stallion attempting to do what his species perhaps did best and attempt to hide that uncertainty that had begun to plague him. Frost distinctly unused to not being in control.

"What do you fucking want?!"

He wasn't going any closer to it. Whatever it was.

f r o s t
we built this city on broken glass