we built this city on broken glass

It was cruel, he supposed, to tease the girl as he did. He had hardly said anything, much less done anything and yet he could feel the fear in her body. He could smell the stress that seemed to emanate from her in waves and while he had so hardly done anything to encourage that very discontent he made little effort to alleviate it either. A part of him almost enjoying watching her sweat if only for some callous part of himself he was struggling, still, to gain control off and further press back down. For all his equine species distinctly passive tendencies there was a truly predatory air to the Icelandic fellow in every sense. One he made little effort to dispel. He could the feel her efforts to press back against his own mental affinity, that feral side off her far stronger it seemed and yet the equine was content to press back all the more, the wolf, he suspected, lacking any mental affinity capble of out-doing him. That physical shove however was far more pronounced and unexpected, a flicker of surprise touching his features as he was forced to step back, Frost frowning slightly as he stepped forward again. The woman nervously handed him that bag along with that plate of treats. The scent of those pumpkin and chocolate brownies perhaps promoting a thaw of that icy exterior he so often presented the world with. His hand reached out to take them then before those words fell from his lips in query as to the sanctity of those very treats, his affinity reaching for her mind in the same moments as she seemed to steel herself for that reply. Raven looking almost indignant as if the suggestion of her poisoning them was beneath her. Poison, as they say, was a woman's weapon and hardly one he'd would put past the werewolf to use. Even if he suspected her notorious moral compass would prevent her from any such act. Her blunt words prompting little reaction from the steed as those violet eyes merely found her own.

"You wouldn't. At least, not with your words- but your thoughts don't lie. Which is why I asked."

The question, it seemed, had been designed to have the woman think about those baked treats and whether or not she had added extra ingredients. That very question sure to prompt her thoughts on the very topic and give away anything she might have hidden regardless of what words she offered. Frost allowed that affinity to withdraw back to himself as he shouldered that bag and Raven reached suddenly for the plastic wrapping on top of those brownies, the woman peeling it off only to take one of those treats and bite purposefully into it. The wolf clearly determined to make a point as she regarded him coolly and with more confidence then was usual for her. Frost merely inclined to watch for several moments longer as she finished that impromptu meal. Raven evidently believing it critical that she proved her own innocence in this, Frost near briefly considering suggesting that perhaps that was merely the only unpoisoned one and she should, perhaps, try and eat most of them if only to prove her morality and yet he suspected, perhaps, Tetradore would not see the amusement he did in fooling his subordinate into eating fifteen brownies at once. How annoying it was to so have to be....good.

No sooner had Raven finished that very treat then Frost easily turned towards the park and the forest beyond, the war horse gesturing towards it then only to take several steps in its direction. His figured paused to assure himself she was coming. Raven seemed to waver once more. That previous confidence teetering upon some proverbial edge before she boldly declared someone would come looking for her if she went missing. How confident she seemed in that. Perhaps she was right, perhaps they would and yet really how long would that take? Frost largely assured no one would realise she was gone until dinner tonight when the curly haired woman failed to arrive with food. Then again, perhaps she and her mate were closer than that. It hardly mattered all the same, he had little intention of attacking her a second time. She had learned her lesson from the first and he supposed he had agreed with Tetradore to work on those very pack relations which surely prompted some measure of good behaviour from him.

"I'm walking, Raven. Keep up."

That, it seemed, was the only response he was inclined to give as he strode further off the street and into that forested area around, Raven trailing unwillingly after him with her arms folded defiantly across her chest. It was hardly a far walk to reach that place he had in mind. Frost leading them down that trail until the street disappeared entirely and only the forest surrounded them. Those trees became thicker and thicker, the sounds of the street dying behind them until only the wind in those trees and the sound of the nearby river seemed to exist- Frost abruptly making another turn that led down a small embankment and onto the wide, flat, open banks of the river. He could smell how clean that water was from here, the sound of it equally satisfying and almost....relaxing. Frost himself appearing all the more calm in this environment when compared to that concrete jungle they had come from. The stallion abruptly seating himself down on a nearby, fallen log before gesturing for Raven to do the same. That bag with the money was placed easily at his feet. Frost instead reaching for his own backpack then, the equine momentarily fishing within its depths before plucking that sizeable book from within it. That heavy, worn, leather-bound volume held out towards the curly-haired woman then.

"I have no reason to attack you today, Raven. You haven't attacked me like you did the last time. Now, I want this back when your done, it is the only english copy I have."

That book of Norse Myths and Gods was one of only several outside his own native Iceland, an english copy all the more rare and yet Raven had shown an almost...genuine interest in those stories and that religion. Frost attempting to offer her those tales she had asked after in some display of.....consideration, perhaps, for the woman he had so previously been content to treat with little more than contempt. It was an...effort. One that was perhaps more significant then it truly appeared coming from a man rarely inclined to any true kindness in any sense. This something of a small step toward. Frost gesturing lightly for her to open that book, those pages colourfully decorated with picture after picture to go with those very stories printed down them. Frost resting back against that log now, his fingers picking idly at that aged wood as he afforded the woman that chance to flick through those pages of the book, his own violet gaze peering at the picture on the page.

"That is Sleipnir, the Horse God, he was Odin's mount. He has eight legs and is supposedly the swiftest of any horse."

The sound of those very hoofbeats easily struck against the ground then. Frost near curious as to how long it would take the woman to notice them and that they were hardly coming from him. That near jet black stallion having appeared behind the woman then, his velveteen muzzle reached down toward her cheek to release that hot rush of air that felt so entirely real in every sense. Frost's illusions by far one of his most potent powers. That eight-legged stallion stepped easily over that log then, his head lowered to sniff at that book Raven held before wandering towards Frost. The Icelandic fellow raising one hand to the animals neck almost absentmindedly then, those icelandic words uttered towards it as his fingers tangled in that long, jet black mane. Snowflakes readily beginning to fall from the sky around then then. Sleipnir's head raised to eye them in curiosity before some distant noise saw his ears prick upward, his dark gaze turned across the river to the forest. Frost's attention shifted back to Raven.

"You can pick one God to hear about or one story to know about and I will tell it to you here and now- the rest you can read for yourself."

FrosT