She was different. In every possible way. To every woman, or mare, Frost had ever met. That she thought highly of herself was decidedly clear and yet, given just what she was perhaps she had every right too. Her determination to continue to linger just outside of his own reach however was almost...frustrating. Both sides of himself desired to expect her more....closely. That distinctly animal part desired to touch her. To draw in her scent and commit it to memory and yet the way in which she continued to dance upon the periphery of his reach had hardly been missed. The rope at Frost's neck continued to pull taut, holding him back, preventing him from extending beyond its limited reach. Yet the rules of that race dictated every horse need be tethered every night. Their ruse would fall apart quickly if Alexander continued to be the one and only competitor seemingly perfectly content with allowing his horse to roam freely across the Mongolian plains without fear of losing it. Still, Frost was near certain he had never hated that rope more than he did in that moment. When that desire to touch the ethereal mare gripped him so potently as she confirmed once again she was entirely alone. No herd and no stallion. His wings, it seemed, were the cause of her interest. An interest Frost was wholly content to play upon if only to keep her attention- and keep her presence until he could deduce how to find her again after tonight. It was her own curiosity that saw her draw closer and finally within his reach as her own muzzle extended to press to the firm muscle of his pale shoulder. Her touch was as warm and soft as he had anticipated. His muscle flinched beneath her touch and yet those wings she sought remained notoriously absent even despite her prodigy.

It was Frost's own near cryptic words that seemed to draw her attention then. The stallion content to imply the truth. That his wings appeared when he summoned them or needed them in some other way- unlike her horn seemed to do. Her horn, in fact, was very near an example of an adaptive failure on her part. The very implication that she was anything less than perfect seemed to ensnare her attention with a fury. Attempting to merely invite her to travel with Alexander and himself had hardly worked, any efforts on his part to find her after tonight would be hampered by Alexander and his desire to win that race. What if she was merely....insulted enough that she was determined to find him? That plan was nothing short of fragile. After all, too much insult and she might simply refuse to exist in his presence ever again. No, he needed just enough to irritate her, anger her, make her determined to prove him wrong. Even within his equine form Frost was so hardly a fool. The stallion, just as the man within, was nothing short of practised when it came to reading those around him. His unicorn gave little and yet her pride was as clear as day. A trait he found...intriguing in every fashion and yet here and now it was one he was determined to use agianst her- if only for his own gain. After all, how many beings had ever dared insult a unicorn? How many had made themselves memorable in her mind? Precious few, Frost was near certain. That stallion was nothing if not determined, here and now, to leave a distinctly....unforgettable memory within her mind if only to bring her back. His insult, it seemed, had done exactly that as she whirled upon him.

She was nothing if not an icon- or so she insisted. The very kind children were told stories off, that man risked their lives to spot a glimpse of, that kings attempted to capture in fables. She had no need to adapt. A soft snort rose from within the war horse as his thick tail lifted to flick at his flanks once more. The equine equivalent of folding his arms across his chest in some vague suggestion of disbelief.

"If you have not failed to adapt- then why is your species on the brink of extinction?"

It was the law of nature. Fabled or not that unicorn species was, by her own admission, nothing short of rare. Rarer even then Fae. Frost, in that moment, so hardly paused to consider his own new predicament. The pegasus, after all, was near equally as rare as the unicorn.His words, perhaps, hypocritical and yet neither equine seemed content to debate that very truth in that moment. Frost merely content to eye his companion almost daringly, as if further provoking that argument and welcoming that very challenge. Whatever else the unicorn had been about to say was cut off by the loud snort from across the camp. Khan's dun stallion had become all the more irate. One hoof lifted, pawing restlessly at the ground as it began to tug more forcefully at its own rope. Frost's own ears pinned momentarily backward in irritation before the unicorn insisted the only being awake in that camp was the 'vile' thing inside Khan's tent. She knew Khan? Or merely knew what he was and felt repulsed by it? How intriguing. The mare's attention upon that dun stallion however had hardly gone unnoticed by Frost in turn. She was, at last, entirely within his reach and entirely distracted. Frost's own muzzle extended suddenly, pressing momentarily to her own as the scent so uniquely her own brushed sweetly over his nose. The stallion committing it to memory as the mare wheeled backward near wildly. Her outrage was clear once more as her own ears pinned backward only to declare he did not have permission. Frost's own features remained near determinedly....nonchalant. The equine determined only to irritate her all the more with his feigned disinterest in her clear discontent. Frost instead choosing only to further speak of his 'adaptive' abilities. Those that allowed him to hide his wings as well as her horn, if he chose.

His words, it seemed, had pushed her beyond that heated outrage and towards a nearly cold...vengeance. Good. She regarded him coolly then as she insisted just as many creatures had wings as they had horns. Unicorns, apparently, did not deal in deceit as she so suggested him implied. The mare declared he held no understanding of what she was capable of if he considered such apparent impurity as his first line of thought. What an utterly....bizarre creature she was in every way. Frost's violet gaze met her own near determinedly then in those precarious moments of silence. Another intriguing thought already having settled within his mind as he offered those cool, calm lyrics as effortlessly and smoothly as always.

"Where does the fabled unicorn draw the line between what is deceit and what is protection?"

That very query however seemed determined to go unanswered as a sudden -snap- reverberated within the air. Frost's head jerked abruptly away from his companion to eye the dun stallion, now finally broken free of its tether, as it launched forward and toward them. The equine male distinctly clear on gaining that unicorn mare for himself. Fuck. Frost's gaze shifted abruptly back toward the mare, his effort to step in front of her and at least attempt to shield her from that incoming impact was met with....nothing. The mare seemingly having disappeared entirely as little more than a handful of white moths fluttered skyward in the place she had been moments ago. Had she...teleported? How precious little time Frost had to consider that very notion before that impact of hooves on solid earth saw his gaze swing back to his aggressor. That Mongolian pony was less than half his own size and yet- like the very plains it had been born upon the other stallion was nothing short of vicious. Frosts ears slammed backward once more, the muscles within his figure readily coiled before the haulking draft pushed backward and onto his hind legs in a truly towering display. One heavy, feathered front hoof was effortlessly struk forward in an effort to warn that other stallion backward and yet the dun pony was nothing if not equally determined to fight over a mare no longer even present.

The dun stallion's own form was thrown backward and onto his hind legs in turn, both equine colliding mid-air as those roars so unique to stallions alone seemed to echo across that once quite campsite. The dun's teeth snaked forward, colliding with Frost's chest with entirely enough force to draw blood. That sudden pain prompted Frost's own lips to part as he seized that smaller horse by the withers, their hooves crashing back to earth as he did, their front legs continuing to strike at each other as Frost all but hauled the other equine backwards.

"Will you fuck off you bastard of a horse"

Those words, he knew, were all but wasted on the animal as they were pressed to its mind. Blood rapidly began to taint Frost's own tongue as his grip on the other stallions withers hardly relented, tearing that flesh open beneath his teeth. Frost was prevented by his own rope from forcing that stallion back any further as the sound of their hooves and screams seemed to bring that campsite to life. How and when that vampire appeared Frost hardly knew. Khan so suddenly seeming to be in amongst them as a large, wood and leather horse stick was swung at Frost's face- forcing the stallion to release his hold in an effort to dodge that blow, Khan aiming a second swing at his own stallion, forcing it backward before reaching to grasp the broken rope that hung from its neck. The vampire's voice rose, those shouted Mongolian words all but lost upon Frost as he struggled to bring his own stallion under control and yet how readily the war horse suspected they were hardly words of kindness. That horse stick was swung a second time, colliding with the dun stallion's flank- that very act finally seeming to strike some sense into the creature as it ceased to rear, yielding to its masters desires- before Khan turned toward Frost once more. That horse stick was upraised again with every intention of striking the snowy stallion by way of punishment. Frost's own head rose, his ear laying backwards as his body tensed, one foreleg entirely ready to strike out toward the vampire as Khan strode forward- only to pause in near the same moment as Alexander's tent so finally opened, releasing a barking Peritas and a decidedly irritated looking Alexander. The Hunter greeted with the sight of Khan mere feet from himself, that horse stick gripped firmly within his hand as his arm slowly lowered.

Khan's gaze shifted between Alexander and the white stallion in that moment. His gaze narrowed momentarily and near curiously upon Frost for the barest of seconds. That now thoroughly awakened campsite seeming to pause as several other riders merely watched on. Khan's tongue brushed over his fangs almost contemplatively, before that horse stick was abruptly tossed at Alexander's feet. Khan, in that moment, speaking the first English that Frost had heard the man truly engage within. "We have ways among my people, Alexander. Ways unchanged in thousands of years for dealing with our horses. Your stallion did not step back when I went to strike him, he intended to strike me in turn. No true Horselord would keep a stallion like that. He reflects his rider. Undisciplined, uneducated and well out of his depth. Keep your fucking animal contained or i can make no promises for its safety if it injures my horse again. These are my lands- not yours. Go back to the sun and beaches and safety of Greece- and take that thing with you. He's bleeding. It attracts predators." Khan's lips pulled back from his fangs, those pointed canines exposed in a distinctly clear threat so invisible to the other riders who watched on behind them. Frost's own ears so merely pinned backward once more. His words pressed to Alexander's mind alone.

"Alexander, I didn't-"

How Alex hardly appeared as if he desired to hear it right now.