we built this city on broken glass

He was aware, somewhat, of the thoughts that turned within his girlfriend's mind as they passed through those rows and rows of stables. The horses here poking their heads, if they were able, over those stable doors to peer with curiosity at the pair as they passed. It was as difficult a concept to explain to Nadya that some of those horses were, genuinely, happy in that situation as it was to attempt to explain to those same horses the world and life they might well be missing out on. They knew nothing else then this world and this life. They would struggle within the outside world in much the same way as he himself had done. A struggle he had not ever, truly, spoken about to another in any true depth. He had been fortunate that his mother had taught him to read so young. That ability alone so providing him a veritable calm in the storm of the 'real' world, an ability to learn what he could not be taught from others. To be able to read allowed him, slowly, to understand the world around him. Yet, the vast majority of these horses had no ability to read, no ability to speak any language outside either Icelandic or some variation of english and thrust into the real world with no one to care for them they would, very likely, get themselves killed. Many of them, after all, spent nearly all their time in their equine form. They knew nothing else. Yet too, he understood Nadya's own discontent. After all, she was as he himself. They knew the outside world, they knew what could be grasped by every Were here if they only desired it, they wanted that world for each of them in turn if only so they could see how much better it might be. Yet 'better' was perhaps a precarious word. How many of them might not believe the outside world was better at all?

For now however, the stallion offered nothing of it. A plan already in mind and yet he would until Nadya and himself were well and truly alone before he made any offering of it. After all, slim though that chance was, another mind reader might well exist amongst either the horses or Hunters themselves and in a place such as this- his to many of the wrong kinds of thoughts would hardly prove....beneficial. It hardly took long to move away from those warm, dry stables and back out onto the frozen, hard ground and icy wind that so punctuated this part of Iceland. Frost, for once, almost glad for that terribly thick mane that covered his neck and caught the snowflakes within it- stopping them from soaking the fur beneath. It hardly took long to walk away from that main settlement then, following that dirt road down to those vast and sprawling enclosures where most off his mind were kept. Those Hunters who guarded the double gates paid little heed to either Nadya or himself, merely glancing toward Nadya to eye her uniform before waving her in. Their television show fortunately drawing their attention. Frost pressed forward once more then, those gates shutting and locking behind them then as he strode further and further into those fields that, come the summer, would be strikingly beautiful with grass and wildflowers and yet- within the winter was little more than frosted tussock grass, frozen earth and barren hills. How very....depressing it was.

Still, he could hardly prevent at those very memories that tugged more forcibly as his mind now. Those very images dancing within his thoughts. Images he had long since tried to remove from his very memory as if they had never existed at all. Frost distinctly careful now to keep those thoughts to himself alone and spare Nadya from just what turned within his mind. The stallion instead choosing to share but a fraction of those considerations as his violet gaze lingered on that surrounding fence and how....foolish he had once been, for years, not to realise they were fenced in. It was not until he had been dared to find the fences end as a child that he'd come to realise that it had now end, but rather, went all the way around. How....shocking it had been to his mind to discover it. Nadya's own words interrupting his thoughts then, his ears turned backward toward her in that display of listening.

"It goes for at least a mile in front of us, out to the right and across the fields it goes for at least two, if not more. There is only one other gate at the far end. It is guarded just like that one we passed through. I will not be able to get out the same way I did the last time- but I have another plan. We will speak of it tonight."

Whether or not that notion he had developed a plan might soothe his girlfriends fears or not remained to be seen. The pair hardly given any longer to consider those ideas before that vast collection of little wooden houses became clear. The vast majority of Weres having congregated in this area, a handful of children milling about in turn as Frost and Nadya came closer. The rest of that Were population content to eye them warily before Frost allowed that illusion to fall. Gaeska the first to recognise him. Perhaps he should hardly have been surprised. He had known her since the day he was born. The woman rushing forward from that crowd then to throw her arms about his neck. Frost unable to help that fashion in which he tensed near slightly. Affection still something of a....surprise for the war horse. He waited only so long as it took Gaeska to release him before attempting to offer those introductions as Nadya slid down to the ground. Her request for somewhere for him to shift a sensible thought, after all, near ever Were in that field had come to congregate around them now. It would hardly take long before those Guards at the gate became suspicious at just what had attracted so much attention. Gaeska was quick to accommodate, the woman hurriedly insisting they could use her home before demanding the others clear a path to let them through. Frosts thought reaching Nadya's own once more as he stepped forward to follow behind the blonde woman with Nadya very much clinging to his side as those women and horses alike eyed her curiously. "Gaeska is the Lead Mare, like an Alpha, if you will. It is why the others do as she asks. Gaeska is her true name too- not her equine name. The Hunters call her Scorch, for her powers, but Gaeska- that means 'kindness' in my language."

That Nadya would, in time, need to become used to those varying names was surely clear and yet Frost made no further mention of it now as Gaeska stepped up that single step off her home and pushed open those double doors wide enough to allow Frost to step inside. Those doors so clearly designed for just that. The blonde woman closing them behind with that insistence she would wait outside. Frost and Nadya left alone in that utterly bare, two room 'home' that contained nothing more than a bed in the far corner and a single door that led to the bathroom. No other furniture existing in any capacity. The entirety of Gaeska's wardrobe hung on a series of hooks above the bed and yet even that consisted of no more than a spare shirt, jacket and pants. Frost easily allowed that shift to come over him the moment Nadya had laid out his own clothes, the only part of their own supplies they had brought with them.

"Every one of these homes looks exactly the same inside. I was born in a room just like this about three houses down."

That very look upon Nadya's perhaps gave away the woman's thoughts on just that. Nadya, he was assured, would not survive living in a room with only a bed and no more than several hooks to hang the entirety of her vast wardrobe- let alone attempting to raise her children. This, perhaps, the most confronting view of the world so far that Frost had been raised within. The stallion quick to sort out his own clothing then before glancing toward that door if only to make sure they were alone all the same. Frost reaching to catch Nadya's hand then and draw his girlfriend towards him and into his arms in that truly rare display of affection, his lips brushing against the top of her head. That blonde hair still so....surprising upon her. His words uttered to her alone then.

"I know that seeing all of this is not easy for you but remember- most of them know nothing else and are completely uneducated about the world outside of here."

He had no doubts Nadya was capable of handling such things and yet he so attempted to stress that understanding all the same that she would need be careful in what she spoke about and how. After all- there was every chance most of the Were here would simply not understand her at all or grow only more wary off her. That soft knock at the door saw the stallion release Nadya softly then. Gaeska opening that door a moment later only to eye Frost once more with a distinct and clear emotion- only to be near bowled out of the way byt another woman. This one older and yet her hair was still dark all the same. Nearly as dark as Nadya's own so naturally was. Katrin one of only the smallest of percentages of Were's in that place to have anything other than those varying shades of blonde. Surprising, perhaps, given the stark white of Frosts own. Katrin so hardly wasted but a moment for greetings. The woman near sprinting across the floor to throw her arms about her son. Those sobs and tears of delight freely marrying her features then as she clung to him. That initial stiffness within Frost's frame rapidly giving way as his own arms lifted to wrap around her slender figure. Katrin a tiny woman and a good head shorter than Frost himself.

"Ekki gráta móður."

That simple request for his Mother not to cry only seemed to make those tears flow more freely for several moments yet as Gaeska shooed the ret of that crowd away and closed the door to afford the tiny family a moment of privacy. How long it had been since his mother had....held him. Years. So many years. That emotion tugging at him unbidden ans Frost so attempted to turn his thoughts from such things. Those Icelandic words muttered once more. Katrin, for the first time, seeming to realise they had another in that room with them. The little woman quick to dry her strikingly blue eyes. Mother and son sharing little in the way of hair and eye colour and yet, their builds and mannerisms alone so surely reflected that shared blood.

"Mother, this is Nadya."

FrosT