i used to rule the world

seas would rise when i gave the word

Alexander had been particularly busy during those weeks in which he was apart from his steed. Though he had allowed Frost to think he had merely abandoned him, the truth couldn't be any furthest from that idle fantasy. So much of his freetime had been dedicated to ensuring his appointment to fulfil that promise he'd made. In turn, he too had spent a fair amount of time in considering how he might ensure the army's allegiance with such a drastic shift within the ranks. He had poured over those personnel files for hours, learning as much as he could about his officers before he introduced himself to them tomorrow. Though Alexander was a quick judge of character, he saw merit in any advantage he might be capable of utilizing. In truth, Alexander was hardly surprised by those inquiries that filled Frost's thoughts. It was to be expected that the horse would be already contemplating those changes that could be made to better the lives of those equine brethren. Though, initially, Alexander had taken on such a role for Frost alone, there was now far more at stake than just the treatment of those weres. Everything would come in time, he was sure.

It was, however, that very matter Frost spoke of that was within his best interest to overlook that naturally garnered most of his attention. It was clear to him that the steed was far more involved in that 'incident' then he had initially let on. His own thoughts were abrupt as he reminded Frost that, now, the stallion was a direct reflection upon himself. Any mishap the steed involved himself in would look poorly upon Alexander in turn, as both a commander, a rider, and a trainer. Frost's assurances that his acting out was when their bond was lacking, however, hardly served to soothe the Dark Hunter's irritation, that scowl still marred his features as Frost assured him he had little intention of repeating such actions in the future, if only due to the fact that his goal had already been accomplished. The silence in those moments after were almost tense, in a fashion. Though he knew well Frost intended to allow him the moment to consider such reassurances, his displeasure was hardly one to easily be abated. It didn't matter to him what the other hunters knew, nor weather or not Frost had acted alone. That he had acted at all in such a fashion was enough of an irritation as it was.

The Macedonian King remained silent all the same in those moments afterwards as Frost informed him of the specifics behind the event. Though it was clear that the steed was accurate in saying he had little reason to return in such a fashion again, it still soothed his own dissatisfaction. Family had been important to Alexander in his youth. The very weight of the crown had been laid upon his shoulders, his father's empire had been his to look after. The simple need to rescue his mother was a feeling Alexander could understand. "You should have waited for me." He uttered abruptly in that gruff tone. After all, was that not what this whole affair had been started for? To help Frost? To help those horses? They could have rescued his mother all the same without the need to put several well bodied men in the hospital and without the ruining of one of those buildings utilized for the training of the were-horses. Had the boy trusted him so little to follow through on his word but Alexander her yet to fail him on such a thing? A soft grunt reverberated on his lips and yet, for now at least, he was willing to put those thoughts behind him, allowing himself to instead become preoccupied with ensuring those spare tree limbs failed to touch the blind side of his mount.

That forested path soon gave way to the far softer, sinking sands of the beach. The shores of the western part of town opened up before them, quiet and empty and theirs for the taking. It was tempting, truly, for Alexander as well as Frost to simply allow the steed that chance to run as his species was so meant to do. With the crisp ocean air in his lungs - how he missed waking up on the seashore! Those thoughts of his childhood were all but interrupted by Frost's assurance that he had something to show the man. His eyebrow rose ever so slightly at the idea and yet, Alexander insisted his readiness for whatever mysterious thing Frost had been so studiously working on. He could innately feel that change within the steed's gait as the draft's pace increased ever so slightly, only for those steps to quite near skip beneath the weight of the King. It was clear to see that Frost had improved...dramatically since the pair had last taken to that training. He had struggled with the concept of that maneuver, just as he too had found it problematic to execute that very step. It was hardly perfect by any means and yet, he was willing to provide the warhorse with some level of approval. At the very least, Frost had made those efforts to improve upon his own terms and his own time. This, Alexander was certain, was something to be praised.

That sudden admittance that Frost had one other thing to show, however brought a rare glimpse of surprise within the man. He hadn't anticipated the steed to be so diligent on his training when he once quite near threw a tantrum within those sessions. How things had turned for the pair compared to those first days. He hardly intervenes as Frost came to a stand still, his own attention keenly devoted to the stallion beneath him. He was aware, to some measure, of Frost's focus, his body quite mimicking his mind in that moment. That soft inquiry was met with a small nod and a reassuring brush of his hand against the equine's nape, fleeting though the gesture was before his hands buried into the stallion's mane. "Yes, I'm holding on." He felt Frost's hind legs tense as the horse rose upwards, Alexander's own center of gravity shifted with the horse, attempting to assist in that maneuver. For several moments the stallion balanced there upon his back legs, that action alone impressive enough considering how quickly he had picked up such an advanced action. However, Frost hardly seemed willing to be done with it there. Rather, the steed tossed himself into the air, the pair momentarily airborne for one fleeting moment before gravity took effect and the ground came rushing to them.

Frost landed with a thud, the ocean waves splashed upwards and against the King's shoes, wetting the bottom of his jeans. He was hardly perturbed by this, however, his blue-green eyes instead met Frost's own noting that sense of pleasure within the man's thoughts. "You are almost there....just a little more work and we'll get it." He assured the stallion, quite near agreeing with the man. He had already gotten the hardest parts down, that added kick at the end could be added in, bit by bit if necessary. Still, at the very least, that Frost had dedicated himself to this all the same had brought a small sense of pride to the Hunter's soul. Just a little bit. "Try it again." He instructed, wholly willing to spend what was left of their afternoon upon that beach, at least until Frost needed to return to his own little family - only to face the Hunter Cavalry the following morning....together.