we built this city on broken glass

It had been a busy day. Busier then he had truly liked if he was honest in that admittance. Frost had spent the better part of that morning at Alexander's cafe. The stallion having found a certain degree of comfort in working in the relative solitude the cafe provided- along with that near continual supply of tea, coffee and cake. Frost seeing little need not to continue to pressure that wait staff to bring him what he desired. At least until Alexander began to scowl more notably toward him. That balance between the pair upon just how much sugar Frost was allowed to consume in any one sitting was continually precarious. Still, his work was made all the more easier by his Hunter companions presence. Having Alexander on hand to ask after his decisions or indeed to run his own concerns by had proven an effective business strategy in the least. Frost had arrived later that morning. The man having first seen to Nadya's request to drop her twins off at preschool. Frost, for the first time, having spent several minutes observing that 'classroom'. The sheer amount of.....information available to the children at such a young age was almost baffling- that room filled to near bursting with the very sorts of things he, once, had almost craved to have. The very vast difference between the opportunities presented to himself in comparison to Nadya's children truly stark.

How often Nadya told him he expected to much of the children at such a young age. Frost so hardly ever harsh with them, after all, they were children and yet he was still inclined to push them perhaps further then Nadya herself. After all, at that same age, he had been capable of....vastly more and yet, perhaps, it was he whom had been the anomaly. He whom had been forced to early and too young to face the realities of the world. To learn to very near care for himself at five years old. Perhaps it was he whom had been denied that childhood Micah and Isabella so relished in and nadya was determined to allow them to have. Frost inclined to admit he had no desire to see them grow up to soon. After all, that very....innocence about them would hardly last. The world, soon enough, would present itself to them- along with its....hardships. How strange it was that apart of himself near desired to protect them from it, while another part sought to show it to them if only to prepare them. This business of parenting harder then he had anticipated and yet he was, he was sure, getting steadily better at it. Even if Nadya had to remind him, on occasion, that they were not always old enough to understand his explanations.

Frost shifted the paperwork in front of him. Such thoughts, for now, easily dismissed as he returned to listing those newest horses agianst the names of the Hunters that alexander had chosen for them. Pages and pages of those names still to be sorted. Frost frowning occasional at any matchup he found unusual and yet, he supposed, he had at least some faith in Alexander. Some. It was only when that clock upon the far wall chimed for three that the man pushed himself away from that desk, a few words exchanged with Alexander before he headed for that door with a carrot cupcake in hand. He had promised Nadya he would return by for. Frost, for all he was, not inclined to break his word once it was given. His jacket was pulled tighter around his figure, his hands stuffed into his pockets the moment that cupcake was finished as he begun that walk home. The stallion content to ignore the curious questions of one young girl whom spoke rather loudly about that colour of his hair to her mother. Frost long since having learned to ignore such queries whether from children or adults.

That walk, in the least, was hardly too far. Frost arriving home fifteen minutes before four. The pack house, for once, relatively quiet. Malia, he suspected, might well still be sleeping. Scarlett and Claire were out, Abigail either having gone to visit that boyfriend of hers else having retired to the garden. The warmth and silence of the house was welcoming. The steady thrum of that pack bond a welcome embrace in turn. Frost easily stamped that mud from his shoes by the door before striding smoothly down the hall and into the kitchen. The scents of whatever Nadya had been cooking still lingering within the air. He had hardly forgotten that riding lesson he had promised to take the children too. Frost having taken to bringing the children with him almost daily to visit that pony he had gotten for them. The both of them having taken a shine to the creature. Isabella seemed distinctly more keen to ride then her sibling. The girl having natural balance. Micah, for the most part, tending to enjoy caring for that pony and leading it around before spending countless hours brushing its coat long after Isabella had lost interest in those barn chores.

The vague sounds of movement from upstairs briefly saw Frosts violet gaze glance upward before he made his way into the living room only to find Nadya seated upon the sofa with that cup of tea in hand and a gift bag resting before her on the table. It was hardly unusual, in any sense, for one of those children from the dance studio to gift nadya with something. Especially come christmas or when one of them moved on. Frost having become distinctly used to those sometimes obscure gifts from other parents. The stallion mistaking that gift bag for that very thing as he moved to ease himself onto that space beside her with contentment. One hand reached upward, pushing aside the white blond of his hair to allow his striking violet gaze to meet her own.

"Are you coming to the stables today? Isabella will want to show you what she's been working on. She's a bold rider. Micah still just likes to look after it, but the boy shows some promise in that area at least. He's far better at those chores then his sister."

It that pony was Isabella's alone he was almost certain it would die of thirst, starvation and dirty bedding all at once. She was hardly irresponsible per say, rather she seemed....to prioritise other tasks. Frost nodded toward that gift back resting atop the table then.

"Is that a thank you gift from one of the parents again? It better not be any more of that fancy soap carved to look like a flower or an animal. We have enough soap to survive the plague."

His features frowned slightly at that very consideration, Frost noticing for the first time that almost....nervous feel to that pack bond between his mate and himself. The stallion eyeing her almost warily then. Perhaps nervous was not quite the right word. No. It was more...anxious. An anticipation of sorts?her very name voiced as a clear question then of what exactly it was that seemed to prompt that almost anxious feeling.

"Naja?

FrosT