we built this city on broken glass

This was....inconvenient.

It had been months since see he had last seen any 'rouge' hunters within the area. The vast majority of those in the city still existing within the limits and control of the Council and as such- so obligated to allow him to pass-by unhindered by way off his own rank within the Council force. Tonight however, his return home from his training with Alexander had proven far more....eventful then he so cared. Frost having turned into the quiet darkness of the park as he did most evenings after dropping Alexander home only to work out rather quickly he had not been alone. It had taken him even less time to decide his veritable pursuer was not with the Council. After all, the majority of Hunters whom worked within that organisation feared Alexander entirely too much to bring about any harm to his mount- the rest so in possession of the common good sense not to irritate Frost himself and yet such a being had so clearly failed to consider either of those things. It had not been difficult, in any sense, to reach out with his own affinity in search of the man's mind and yet, for perhaps the first time, Frost had found his thoughts unreachable. Whomever he was, he possessed an ability to mask the stallions own. Frost's features having frowned in further discord at that very realisation before he had simply changed course within that park, deviating from his usual path in some effort to, even momentarily, throw off his pursuer.

His steps had quickened ever so slightly, Frost stepping off the path and onto the grass if only to lessen the sound off his shoes, the snowy-haired man momentarily considering that shift back to his equine form and yet a large, pale horse, was perhaps a decidedly more efficient target for his companion. One far easier t strike at then his far smaller, more slight human frame. He could taste the man's scent on the wind and yet just where he was remained elusive, that breeze fickle in its direction. Frost remaining determined to linger in those more shaded parts of the park. Some part of the equine near convinced that whomever this was they were so trying to get a clear....shot. Though just what made him so assured it was a long range weapon his opponent wielded he hardly knew. Such a thing a simple inkling within his thoughts and one he so hardly had to wait terribly much longer to discover. His own sensitive hearing, even in his human form, picking up the sound of something being loaded. So many years spent within one army or another readily assuring him of just that sound. Frost near immediately leaping backwards just in time to prevent the first arrow slamming into the concrete ahead of him. Somewhere, within the vast expanse of the park he was almost sure he heard someone cussing. Hmm. How unfortunate for them. Still, he had little desire to attempt to find such a being hear and now. Wandering that park in search of them would prove a fool's errand. Besides- he would not forget that scent. For now however, attempting to escape without an arrow in his chest would so require his attention.

A task he had very near managed to do. Almost. Frost dodging two more arrows before reaching those park gates. His assailant unlikely to follow him onto the busy streets with such an archaic weapon and yet he still had to move from those shadows into the lights that illuminated the gates themselves- so providing his unseen assailant with a single, clear shot. It had taken several more moments for Frost to decide which side the gate to head for, such a choice a relative gamble when his opponents mind was closed off to him. This, perhaps, the single wrong choice the stallion had managed to make all evening. Frost choosing that left side only to hear the hiss of the arrow as he broke from that cover, the stallion managing to pass through that gate and place the stone wall of the park between himself the the hunter and yet- the Hunter had managed to place an arrow neatly through his forearm all at once. The very pain of that shot taking several moments to truly permeate that adrenaline. Frost wincing in readily then as he eyed his newly adored forearm.

"Fucking hell."

His own healing would surely take care of that wound and yet- not within an arrow through it. The faintest of bumps agianst that metal shaft flaring pain down his arms. The damned thing having passed right through and come out the other side. In the least that sharpened head was hardly buried in his flesh and yet- pulling the arrow out had become damned near impossible without a set of bolt cutters. This would have to wait until he got home. Damn but it didn't half tickle. Frost frowning once more. That look of distinct displeasure the only emotion he permitted upon his features as he headed for home, the man working to numb that pack bond as much as possible if only to prevent Nadya and Claire especially flying into some state of panic. Frost finally reaching the house some time after midnight- the silence at least assuring him the pack was asleep for the most part. Frost never truly having so excelled at....asking for help, even when he so required it. The stallion content to make his way quietly into that downstairs bathroom, his fingers reaching to turn on that faucet and set that warm water running in some effort to wash that blood from his arm and afford himself a better view of the arrow lanced through it and yet.....that very arrow so made it impossible to get his arm in the sink without the arrow itself touching the sides and setting the flesh of his arm alight with that pain once more.

This- was going to be a very long night.

FrosT