Alexander Macedonia

when I walk into the room there's nothing you can do
To stop me from making moves
I'm coming for you

The ivory sheets flapped ever so gently in the late afternoon breeze as Alexander stepped into the tent with a soft sigh upon his lips. "Your Majesty. A young man stepped up to his right, reaching for his bloodied sword. "Thank you." He muttered softly as he handed over xiphos. The young page left the tent in a hurry, leaving the Macedonian Monarch alone. His hand reached for the strap upon his shoulder in an effort to undo those gilded epomydes, only for another set of fingers to reach around and brush his hands away. "Your Majesty.". That introduction was soft and yet, that voice was one the Monarch could place anywhere. "Hephaestion. A small simper crept across his features as he allowed his Chiliarch to remove the armor adorning his figure.

"It was a glorious victory today, Alexanderous."
"It was, you did magnificent out there."
"Thank you, your Majesty."
"Will you have Peithon draw a bath for me?"

The blue-green of his gaze shifted over his shoulder towards his somatophylax, simply watching as Hephaestion nodded, only to fall to silence as he continued assisting in the removal of his armor. A soft breath of contentment left his lips as his gaze turned upwards, only to fall upon those fluffy blankets that adorned his bed - one in which Hephaestion laid within. He was hardly certain exactly how he had gotten here, with his armor gone and his flesh clean of the dirt and grime of battle. At that moment, it hardly mattered to him. He stepped closer towards his bed, only to lean over the fit physique of his Chiliarch.

"Now, Hephaestion?"
"Why not? The rest of the army is preparing for tonight's celebrations - they won't notice...if you're quiet."
"And if someone walks in?"
"We will merely tell them you were showing me how a King properly enjoys his victory."

A warm chuckle left his lips as he leaned down to press his them against Hephaestion's own, only for the familiar sound of horses outside of his tent to garner his attention. There was a soft whine of protest from the man beneath him as he pulled away.

"What was that?"
"Alexanderous, leave it, someone else will deal with it."
"It could be Bucephalus, I'm just going to check. I'll be back."

He promised as he stood up, even despite Hephaestion's attempts to pull him back. The sound of those equines fighting only seemed to increase as he stepped closer towards the entrance of the tent. Something wet touched his cheek, prompting him to reach upwards and yet...it was nothing but utterly insistent. A groan left his lips as his gaze fluttered open to a cascade of wet..puppy kisses - the Macedonian was tent was replaced with one far darker and smaller. That dream lingered upon the very edge of his consciousness, one he might be able to return to if he rolled back over and fell back asleep. It was the high pitched yip of the puppy that was nearly on top of him, however, that finally pulled the Dark Hunter from his half-awake state. The sound of a whip on flesh forced Alexander to extract himself from his sleeping bag, the Macedonian near fumbling with his shirt as he pulled it on over his head - only to unzip the zipper of the tent. Peritas was quick to bound out of it, barking those high pitched puppy yips all the while. The Dark Hunter emerged to face Khan with his leather stick raised in the air. It took remarkably little time for Alexander to deduce exactly what he had walked into. How...taunt Frost's figure was, and the stallion behind Khan was certainly not where he should have been in comparison to his own.

Alexander's gaze narrowed as he took several steps forward till he stood alongside his own steed. He was altogether aware of several other figures wandering inquisitively outside of their sleeping quarters. Khan's callous gaze shifted between horse and hunter in careful consideration. Oh, how he wished for the vampire to attack, his fingers near itching for his blade even if such a duel would undoubtedly see him disqualified for having an unfair advantage on the human riders -- if only they knew. His gaze flickered down to the horse stick tossed in front of him, entirely unimpressed with Khan's need for a whip to control his horse. Khan's accent was heavy, even in spite of that clear English upon his lips. How his blood boiled at the very adjectives that Khan afforded both his warhorse and himself - those words were one he was determined to see Khan regret. Here and now, however, was hardly the place for such an outburst. Rather, Alexander purposefully stepped between Frost and his nemesis, unafraid of that pointed threat as the Mongolian's lips pulled back over his deadly sharpened canines. "Touch my horse Khan, and not even all of Mongolia will be able to keep you from me." He commented, his voice was a soft mutterance, one unlikely to be heard by the onlookers and yet, with a vampire's senses, he had little doubt that Khan would pick up every syllable.

The press of Frost's voice into his head caused his gaze to shift briefly over his shoulder - the very intensity of it was enough to cause the stallion to cease whatever words he had been close to uttering. That standoff between Hunter and Vampire hardly lasted much longer, however, with the full focus of the camp upon them. Neither man, it seemed, was inclined to make the first move, not when a race was at stake. A snarl crossed Khan's lips in response before the vampire whirled upon his feet, sharply grabbing the frayed end of his steed's tattered rope. His tugging upon it was certainly not the gentlest - the very sight of it was enough to only further the ever increasing irritation within the ancient Macedonian. Alexander turned, only for his fingers to gingerly reach out towards the skin surrounding the wound upon Frost's chest. "You'll have to let this one heal naturally. Too many people have seen it and will notice it missing." He murmured, his voice hardly above a whisper with the camp's eyes so focused upon them. "I'll grab the first aid kit." The Dark Hunter finished with a noteworthy sigh. How very much he would have liked to stay asleep and within the comfort of his dreams than to deal with this shit - particularly when it had been a dream with Hephaestion waiting for him.

It had taken nearly half an hour to clean his steed's wound, ensure the rope was still properly tied after Frost's encounter, and wrangle Peritas back into the tent when the little puppy was so thrilled with the late night excitement. Though Alexander hardly required sleep quite like his mortal counterparts - the lack of it still affected him all the same. Sleep, when it finally came, was largely dreamless for the Macedonian, the rest of the night thankfully uneventful - despite his concerns that Khan might consider making some effort to make good upon his threat. It was near sunrise when Peritas awoke him again, the little puppy nearly prancing in his desire to go out. A yawn crossed his lips as Alexander reached up to rub his eyes. He reached out towards the zipper of the tent, pulling it back just enough to release the whining puppy that struggled with tripping over his too large feet in his desperate bid to get out. It took the Dark Hunter several more moments to pull himself from his tent, finally dressed. The scent of coffee in the air from one the nearby yurts called to him - quite as it did several of the other riders. How quickly the entire camp seemed to wake at the prospect of both coffee and the sun - the riders eager to ensure they all left the site at the very moment they were allowed to.

Alexander joined several other rides in search of coffee and breakfast - the Hunter entirely unsurprised to find Khan absent at that brief morning gathering. It was rather inevitable, however, that the prior evening's events were brought up several times, though most of the other competitors seemed to be under the belief that Khan was largely at fault for them with his horse having escaped in the first place. Still, it was with those thoughts in mind that Alexander returned to his own campsite, the caffeine serving to assist in providing a sort of clarity he might have lacked from the previous evening's interruption in sleep. How his thoughts dwelled upon it as he started to take down the tent and pack up their belongings. It was unlikely, after all, that Khan's steed would have broken his rope and attacked Frost without reason - particularly when the stallion had failed to show any interest in the ivory Draft prior. Something had occurred the previous night and now, with a day's ride ahead of him and sleep finally in his system, Alexander had every desire to know precisely what it was. He approached his warhorse, easily lifting the saddle up upon Frost's back as he let the very thought hang within the forefront of his mind, certain his steed would pick up on it. "What happened last night?