we built this city on broken glass

There was so much to be done. The possibilities were endless and yet each and every possibility seemed afflicted with its own series of roadblocks in one way or another. Overhauling the Mounted Unit was no small task. One he did not envy Alexander in having and yet his own newfound position so placed an unusual set of duties upon himself. Familiarizing himself with hundreds of other Werehorses, their positions, their skills, attitudes and attributes was veritably daunting in itself and yet he had little intention of leading a group of beings he held no knowledge off. If Alexander was determined to sort out those Hunters then Frost himself was willing to see to assisting in the organisation of their mounts. His finger clicked lightly across that mouse, sending those names scrolling across the screen. Hundreds and hundreds of names. If there was anything the Council did well it was keeping records of those in its service. Frost could hardly fault them there and yet attempting to sort out who needed new riders, who needed replacing and who was better suited to who was proving to be a finicky endeavour at best. The stallion near assured his eyes were beginning to blur from looking at that screen. Each horse was sorted by microchip number and yet that system would be more efficient if done by age and then by name and then by gender and breed. Frost slowly flagged those horses without riders to move to the top of the list for Alexander to look at first. The stallion scowling slightly at one name on the list before dragging it towards the bottom. He'd never liked that mare. She could have whoever was left for a rider. That small smirk of satisfaction touching his lips before the next set of names rolled onto the screen. This was going to take significantly longer then he anticipated. Perhaps a break was in order.

The Icelandic man pushed away from his desk then before rising from the chair to stretch, one hand running through the stark white of his hair before that chair was kicked haphazardly back beneath the desk and he strode easily from his study. With Nadya out at the park with the twins and Malia still asleep upstairs the house, for once, was almost quiet. Frost momentarily relishing in that silence as he wandered into the kitchen. There was some hours yet before he need meet Alexander for that training session and yet, for once, he found himself almost restless. The idea of reading, working or merely enjoying that sun hardly appealed him today. His violet gaze turned near throughtfully upward then and toward those stairs. If Malia was home this weekend, why not ruin her sleep-in just a little and engage with her? Indeed the woman might yet prove useful in assisting him in honing those skills he still needed to work on in his human form. Besides, he had spoken to her of the importance of self-defence in her human skin in turn- why not use this time?

His hands tucked easily into the pockets of his jeans as he headed for those stairs, Frost climbing them easily before rapping his knuckles against Malia's bedroom door. The hum of that pack bond decidedly strong, assuring him she was definitely in her room. The calm, simple peace of it further prompting the notion the coyote was indeed sleeping in. It was nearly ten. That was surely enough sleep. His knuckles rapped against the door again, the stallion turning the handle then to let himself into the semi-dark off her room- the sun peeking beneath those drawn curtains. That lump beneath the blankets and too the one foot hanging from the bed prompting his head to turn slightly to eye that bizarre sleeping position. Coyotes.

"Malia- will you wake up please? Don't groan at me."

He could, when it suited him, offer some measure of manners- especially to his packmates and yet that same sternness of expectation existed still. His eyes rolling slightly as he was almost certain he saw the girl attempt to pull her head under the blankets. This, he was sure, was what she got for being up all night the evening before. Frost....aware, in some sense, of where each of those beings connected to him was at any hour of the day or night. The stallion prone to finding himself...restless on those evenings one of them stayed out to long. A part of him decidedly...protective of those women he called his own.

"I have some training to do today. I thought you could assist me. It will benefit us both and I think you might enjoy...kicking things. Can you manage to get up now or will I have to chill you feet?"

That simper of sorts managed to find the stallions lips. One eye lifting slightly in clear expectation of some retort or another. Malia had said she wanted to learn to kick the way he had kicked that moronic monkey the night of the Ark riot. Today seemed a good enough day to teach her.

FrosT