How curious these children were, their minds so simply amused by something as novel as a toy duck and yet, in some way he supposed it was almost endearing, his attention drifting from one to the other as Nadya attempted to allow them those few moments of play. Frost content to return to the doorway leaning back upon it merely to watch over that little family. It was strange, in some ways, for all his own children he had hardly interacted with them, hardly been a part of their lives in any real fashion. The idea was strange to him, entirely foreign in every sense- the stallion almost fearing he might injure them somehow or that this was not his place to interfere. The man simply moving to do as he perhaps did best and simply...watch. His determination to remain apart from those bath time activities however hardly seemed to effect that consideration of his own desires, his lip quirking upward as those teasing words left his lips. The man hardly anticipating a response let alone that flick of water in his direction. Frost shifting instinctively in an effort to avoid it, several off those droplets managing to land upon him all the same before that subtle offer of 'perhaps later' merely saw one violet eye lift upward in that unspoken query.

He hardly anticipated the woman would see through such an offer and yet the intrigue of it was pleasant enough all the same. In all those years there were precious few women whom had ever quite captivated his interest as she did, Frost content to picture just how such a thing might look. The memory of the taste of her skin alone enough to tease at this thoughts, that soft simper tugging at his lips in consideration before he found a washcloth suddenly held towards him. His hand reached to take it almost reflexively, the man eyeing that soap laden cloth with suspicion. This was far more....involved then he had anticipated being, his gaze lifting to peer at those children within the tub and down to the cloth at his hand. Did she truly desire for him to....wash one of them? How on earth he was supposed to do such a thing remained to be seen. That rarely loosened shield slipping from his façade if only slightly to offer that look of bafflement. That request to remove his jacket met with suspicion before he reached too slowly unbutton it, allowing it to slip from his shoulders as he hung it over the chair.

It was with no small measure of wariness that he moved to step back towards that tub, one hand reaching gently for the young boy, his gaze lifting to watch Nadya working with Isabella before moving to mimic the woman's actions. After all, whom better to learn such a thing from then their Mother? His grip upon the child was impossibly light, Frost hardly so much as scrubbing as opposed to wiping gently, dipping that cloth back in the water to attempt to rinse the soap from him before this notion of washing hair saw him frown. Tipping water over a child's head seemed beyond his own skill, some fear that the child might cry gripping him now. How unpleasant it would be if he managed to upset the boy in front of his mother. For all his concern however the man was hardly inclined to appear useless in this task. Frost reaching for that small container, his free hand shielding the boys eyes as he tipped that water gently over him, reaching then for the shampoo.

"I have never done this before- how much is required?"

Washing his own hair was hardly the same as an infant, Micah slamming that duck into the water a moment later to send water splashing about him and across onto Frost him self- the stallion leaping back hurriedly again. This was....wetter than he had anticipated, the boy with his soapy head bursting into a flurry of giggles- Frost scowling slightly at him. The man's eyes widening suddenly in a realisation of sorts, a soft murmur of those Icelandic words falling from his lips now as he approached the boy again. A single utterance of the boy's name drew his attention, Frost staring near intently before that simper dared dance upon his lips, a soft sound of amusement parting his lips.

"Naja, I can hear your son's thoughts. It seems he is finally old enough that they are coherent to me."

It was that touch too, that surely afforded him that connection, his hand resting around the boys own as he moved to rinse that water from his head, the pair so clearly engaged in their own mental conversation now. Frost wholly curious of the boy's thoughts.

"There- I think I am done. You owe me another shirt though, Naja."

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