we built this city on broken glass

The idea of coming to that appointment with Nadya so readily saw a near wary look find the Icelandic man's features. This was...foreign territory. Frost largely unfamiliar with medical practices in any sense, let alone the kind so specialising in women and pregnancy. That he might even be permitted within that building was surprising to him. He could hardly deny he was curious and yet such a thing seemed almost intrusive on his part all the same. Frost simply raised with that very belief that some things were for women alone and yet- Nadya seemed sincere in her invitation. Frost remained silent for several more moments, his thoughts were interrupted by Isabella's rather vocal declaration of that coming baby. Frost assured that had Nadya informed him of her pregnancy with that same directness he would surely have understood in a more timely manner. His mate insisting that that first child was special and should be handled with more grace. That soft sound of amusement rose within Frost's own throat. The stallion content to rise from the couch in turn and make his way toward the door.

The feel of Nadya's fingers entwining with his own readily prompted his violet gaze to shift downward and toward their hands. Those public displays of affection, even the smallest indication, were distinctly rare between the pair. Frost so un-used to those very things that Nadya was almost careful to offer them only on occasion. The equine steadily becoming more open to the idea and more content in that evident affection. Those frigid, icy barriers inclined to shift for Nadya alone. Frost's gaze shifted upward once more to eye both of those children and assure they remained upon the path and away from the road. Another question toying within his thoughts. That of the child's species. After all, if that research was correct there was no way of knowing whether that child was feline or equine. Nadya all but confirming that very thing. Frosts features frowning slightly in consideration.

"I suspected as much."

He was so hardly a many of words, when he chose not to be. Frost, instead, contemplative of his own thoughts once more. He was hardly concerned, he supposed, if that child should prove to be a panther like his or her mother and yet he could hardly deny that having another horse in that family would not be displeasing. Still, he supposed, the birth of a child was one facet of nature that would not be rushed. The stallion resigning himself to that rather long wait as they approached the barn. The children rushing ahead once more. How readily he could near feel Nadya tense beside him, his mate struggling to hold herself back from calling after the children as they rushed from stall to stall, their hands eagerly reaching up to pet horse after horse before rushing toward their own pet. Frost chuckling softly at Nadya's internal discourse before that sudden kiss to his cheek saw his gaze drift sideways once more. Nadya insisting that when that child came she was determined it have a 'true' name in the same fashion he did. That tradition unique to his own culture and people. One it seemed Nadya was willing to allow upon their own child. That very gesture far more...meaningful then he truly knew how to express. After all, he had been denied any chance to name his other children. Nadya's own use of his real name seeing that faint lift of his lips.

"I would like that. You would not be opposed to it having an Icelandic name?"

The violet of his gaze met her own once more. Those true names, after all, so tended to be in his own language. Frost seeking to assure himself that Nadya would hardly mind such a thing. The manner of that last name another thing entirely, after all, his own culture so differed vastly to the rest of the world in even that tradition. Frost, for now, content to consider that first name alone.

"Naja, when you mentioned that appointment earlier. What do they do as these appointments?"

He had not, it seemed, forgotten her earlier question. Frost curious to find out more in the very least as the children clipped the lead rope to the ponies halter before breaking out into the argument of who would lead it from the stall, both eager to earn their mothers praise. Nadya was swift in her insistence to let Micah lead, the woman asuste in her observation that Isabella was the one whom likely led more often. The little girls pouting features turned toward him. Frost rarely swayed by those baleful looks.

"Let your brother lead. You fetch the brushes."

Another job, just for her, seemed to give the child a new purpose. Isabella racing into that tack room to find that bucket of brushes as Micah expertly tied that pony to the rail outside the door with that very knot Frost had showed him. That simple nod of approval from the snowy-haired man seemed to prompt that beaming grin from the boy as he reached for his own brush before beginning to brush the ponies leg. Isabella diligently working on the ponies white tail before holding out that comb to Nadya and insisting her Mother have a go. Frost raising one eye slightly at the memory of Nadya's first experience with a pony those months ago. Those teasing words finding him then.

"Yes Naja, why don't you brush the ponies tail too."

FrosT