It was those flickering lights, flashing and dancing like something out of a horror movie that saw the stallion glance upward as if willing to see some sort of logical explanation for their malfunction, his gaze narrowing slightly upon them as he stepped out into that hallway. His curiosity for those lights lasted but a few moments longer, that shadowy figure at the end of it near instantly drawing his gaze if only because it had never existed there before and too- that distinctly prey part of him remained eternally alert to those subtle changes in the home he lived in. For several long moments his gaze lingered upon that Black Panther whose pelt seemed to meld with the darkness and whose green gaze was wholly unmistakable. He knew that panther. Frost assured he would know him anywhere. Even the scent of him remained the same and yet some manner of hesitation gripped the equine still. Frost unable to decide whether the man was truly real after seeing him die with his own eyes or this was some sort of apparition. The stallion never before holding much belief in the world of spirits. After all, if they truly existed to seek revenge upon the living then he is assured he would have seen them long before this. Still- there existed that doubt, that insecurity, that single moment of hesitation that was so rare upon the man.

His voice echoed down that hall, seeming all-too loud even to his own ears and yet he remained where he stood in some final act of defiance, refusing to retreat backwards and yet he hardly walked forwards either. The man a veritable catalyst for his species in that moment, wavering upon the edge of the inevitable flight or fight as he struggled to make one choice or another in response to that cat. The sudden movement forward of the feline saw his gaze narrow once more, his form tensing as the cat begun to stride forward and the hallway seemed to grow all the darker even despite those flickering lights. The panther seemed far larger then he remembered it being, those first few touches of genuine fear daring to make themselves available in that moment. Frost, like so many others, inclined to fear what he did not understand. His own affinity embraced him hurriedly, that searing heat wrapping about him to prevent the panther launching any sort of attack or at least, to harm him for it if he did and yet a part of them man remained unsure as to whether the feline could truly be harmed by that now all the same.

The house plunged suddenly into darkness the moment that curse word left his lips. That inky blackness swallowing the hallway entirely as Frost's own night vision struggled into life. He could hardly risk shifting in a space this tight and too he hardly knew if his own second floor was designed to hold something that weighed so much as his animal form. That man veritably forced to remain as he was in that more fragile, human guise. The cat disappeared suddenly from within that hallway, Frost entirely assured he could feel something behind him, his hair standing on end at that single uttered word before he dared to turn. Only to find that empty space. The lights suddenly returning a moment later. Frost at least a shade whiter then he might normally have been. His form slumping against the nearest wall with a muttered curse on his lips. Fate it seemed- had finally caught up with him after all these years. Those next few months a veritable living nightmare that saw the panther apparition return more the once. Frost so at first believing himself to be haunted until the point he so demanded Alexander, with his supposed religious ties, assess the house. The stallion coming to believe in the wake of such an event that, real or not, that panther remained wholly determined torment him. That doubt over his existence, real or otherwise, so eternally plaguing his thoughts.


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