She can see the barest hint of a smile on his features at her quip, a bit of an inside joke in regards to her own species but as he straightens his lanky form he only offers her the loose rolling of his slender shoulders. His words, like the rest of him, are cool but she can't help but see a small light of truth in them. Dog's weren't the brightest of creatures at the best of times, too many years of domestication and becoming pliant to their owners will. They say domestic cats are much more closely related to their wild ancestors than any dog is related to a wolf these days, and she would believe it. She lets out a soft huff of laughter at his statement that he enjoyed the challenge of earning the trust of those stronger animals. "We're not big on dogs here either, but you won't find much of a challenge where he's concerned," she said with an offhanded gesture at the tabby cat, "He adopted me after all, but some cats will trust until you give them a reason not to." The last words she speaks are harder as her eyes seek his own beneath his shock of white hair, not wanting him to miss the truth therein. She might forgive eventually, but she would never forget if he crossed her.

It is as she studies the medallion, her own whispered words of the only connection she could make to the Norse mythology it might be associated with confirmed by the barest nod of Frost's head. She listens silently to his own explanation, full of more than one word she wasn't overly familiar with but she merely nodded as if it all made sense. No doubt the internet could provide more answers after he had gone, he didn't seem the type who would allow himself to be interrogated on such things. She does notice the fluidity with which his crisp voice flows over the foreign tongue and she thinks, for the first time, it might be a more if not equally native tongue to him. Again she brushes past the topic as the true negotiation process begins.

There was something more that he wasn't telling her, some reason he needed her to do this job and not himself or some other lackey that his type always seemed to have laying around somewhere. She could tell their time was drawing to close, however, and she had a sense of when a deal had reached the pinnacle of its prospects. And so she made her final offer, upping the final payout fee if only because she couldn't physically bring herself to simply give him what he asked for up front. He was still getting quite the deal compared to her original offer, which even she knew had been asking too much but it was worth it to see she had garnered some reaction from him.

He laughs as he moves toward her outstretched hand, a fact she takes in a positive light so the beginning of a grin is spreading across her pink glossed lips until he pulls her toward him. They are closer than before when she had investigated his medallion which was now pressed between them. Her breathing accelerates instinctively, muscles stiffening as she fights the urge to jerk herself away. She most likely could if she tried hard enough, but she would not give him the pleasure of knowing he could make her proverbially sweat. Every predator knows that once you start acting like prey all other animals will see you as such, and he would not have that from her. Instead she steeled herself, controlling her breathing as he speaks, raising her head defiantly to stare directly into his off-putting violet eyes even as his feather light fingers brush across her jaw. She can feel the goose bumps crawling up her back at the contact, his hands warm as she remembered despite every other part of him being the opposite.

Still she faces him like the predator she is, eyes locked on his own with a steely gaze and her pink lips set in a thin hard line. He finishes his little tirade and all she offers him is a snort more than a little laden with disdain and a crinkle of her nose as he releases her. Carefully she remains exactly where he released her, watching as he stepped back but not willing to give him any ground of her own. In the game of dominance every little nuanced move meant more than most others would realize. Instead she merely watched him closely as he moved, his final instructions met with an offhanded nod as he walked brazenly to the door. She rotated, not willing to let him see the back of her, the lines blurring between woman and feline and he turned to face her once more. "See you soon, " is all she called after him, her voice light and airy as always but requiring much more effort than before.

Only once the door closed solidly between them did she exhale, shoulders slumping as all the fight seemed to leave her at once. She sat down on the floor, legs crossing beneath her as she leaned back against the armchair she was nearest. Closing her eyes her dexterous fingers massaged the corners of her temples, trying to process all of what had just taken place. It wasn't until Grayson wandered over, his soft mewling a sign that he was concerned for her as no doubt he could feel her stress. She reached out to stroke him softly when she realized Frost had called the tabby cat by name, a name she had never given him. For a moment she looked questionably at her companion before shaking her head, a soft, "I don't even want to know" leaving her lips. Some questions were better left unasked. All she knew is she hadn't seen the last of Frost, not by a long shot if her instincts were correct, but she believed he had seen the truest version of him in their last moment, locked together, his hand gripping her own with force. With a final shake of her head she stood, grabbed her purse , walked out the door and started her walk to the Cat's Meow. For once she was glad for the distraction bartending would bring her.