Any further conversation between horse and rider was, momentarily, halted as the calls for the riders to line up echoed across that space. Alexander was quick to lift himself into the saddle, the Hunter settling comfortably before reaching for the reins. Frost, admittedly, had become used to that bridle over those past few days. The Hunter's hands were, after all, distinctly gentle on those reins. Alex, by far, the most competent rider to ever sit upon his back- even if Frost rarely dared to offer such praise for his companion. Those thoughts of unicorns, for a few moments at least, were cast aside as the trio of dog, horse and rider took their place in that lineup. Khan, still at his camp, continued to struggle to saddle his stallion. The dun having taken distinct damage to his withers. That saddle was sure to rub and irritate with every movement. If nothing else- Khan would be forced to start in very near last place. That was decidedly satisfying. Frost's heavy hooves had no sooner found that starting line then the horses surrounding them began to paw and dance and fight agianst their own bridles. Those equine feeling that anticipation as much as their riders before the ringing of those starting bellows echoed. The first twang of sound had no sooner entered the air than the swiftest horses in that pack near launched forward in a race for the front. Frost's own far heavier form leapt forward, his feathered hooves beat at the ground and yet the war horse hardly chose to exert himself fully just yet. It would be pointless, after all, to exhaust himself racing agianst those thoroughbreds and arabians. Endurance, after all, was the talent his very breed was most known for.

Those competitors, just as before, began to spread out. Frost, Alexander and Peritas were soon enough alone once more on that plain. The trio settled into fourth place. Their rivals were little more than specks in the distance- the riders behind them equally so. Little save for the sound of Frost's hooves rang across that hard earth, the white stallion slowing to a long, loping trot once more. That pace was easy and comfortable enough to keep up for the rest of the day. Alexander, for his part, so hardly seemed to find any need to check his pace- Frost simply continued. The trio rode in silence for several miles before Frost's thoughts, at last, pressed into his companions mind. That conversation picked up where it had left off. Frost, once more, insisted upon his belief that mare had been a unicorn. A true unicron. Not merely a WereHorse with a talent for illusions like himself. He was, after all, very near gifted at knowing when he existed in the presence of another illusionist. Was it possible she was so powerful as to be able to hide her affinity entirely? Alexander was silent for several more moments and yet Frost was nothing short of aware of the thoughts that turned with meticulous order inside his rider's mind. Alexander, at last, admitting that perhaps the mare had not been using an illusion power and yet Frost had no way of knowing she was not utilising any ability. A near disgruntled snort left the equine's nose in response. Alexander was right and yet how loath Frost was to admit it.

Another silence settled between the pair. Frost's hooves pounded at the earth in that rhythmic motion for several long strides before his thoughts found Alexander's again. Frost, this time, insisted that Alexander had been wrong before. Even if it has been centuries ago. If he was wrong once then surely he could be wrong again- as unlikely a possibility as it was. Frost felt his companion stiffen- if only slightly. A potent silence hanging between them before Alexander near gruffly insisted that 'they would see'.

"Yes, we will."

That, it seemed, was all Frost was content to offer as the equine's attention turned back firmly to that race. Their position in fourth so hardly changed for the next two days, it was not until another day later that they finally cantered past a competitor to take that third position, her thoroughbred stallion suffering fatigue. It was another day after that, very near on the cusp of evening that they passed the rider in second place. His mare having pulled up lame. That pair was out of the race entirely after a sharp stone sliced the mare's foot open. It left only a single rider ahead of them. A former winner and serial placegetter in that race. He and his Akel-Teke gelding were nothing short of fit. The Akel-Teke, Alexander had insisted, had been akin to his own Bucephalus. The Hunter so rarely, if ever, choosing to mention his former steed. Frost, for his part, so rarely cared to hear it and yet he took a fascination of sorts in how fondly Alexander spoke of the breed of horse Frost fond...weedy in build at best. Still, that gelding had proven nothing short of difficult to catch. This, the first time in all those days, Alexander had truly begun to push him to go faster. The bite of fatigue, for the first time, began to tug at Frost's own muscles at the end of each day and yet- Alexander isnisted, it was still not enough. They needed to go faster still. Alexander so persistently asking for more each day. Frost was nothing short of near drenched in sweat the evening they finally went past the Akel-Teke. Frost and Alexander pushed onward to be the only pair at the furthest base camp that night. They would, in the least, start in first place that following day. This, the final leg, Alexander was certain, they could complete in a day if they truly, truly rode hard.

Frost, however, found himself too distinctly tired to argue. The equine, for the first time, choosing to lay down to sleep for half that night. How that night seemed far too short! The sun seemed to threaten to rise quite before Frost was ready for it to do so and yet, the war horse, for all his tiredness- so possessed a desire to win much akin to his rider's own. Frost had always been competitive- in all he did. Even if he was inclined to be silent in that determination. Alexander, after all, would not ask more of him than the Hunter believed him capable of. It was that distinct....trust in his companion that prompted the equine to try harder and harder still each time his rider asked.. Alexander hardly had to ask more than once to prompt Frost to rise from that soft sand he had made his bed in last night. The stallion's legs near ached as he pulled himself to his feet- his entire body shook, flinging that dust and sand from his coat before standing for Alexander to place that saddle and bridle the final time. Frost, today, so finding her hardly cared to argue about Peritas being lifted into the saddle before Alexander followed. They could make those last miles. They need only keep their lead.

Alexander's heels at his side sent Frost forward in response to that final starting bell, the stallion swinging into that ground covering canter once more. The sky was clear and free of breeze. The rapidly rising sun threatened to bring a degree of heat with it. The further they could travel before the middle of day, Alexander isnisted, the better a position they would be in. It was not until just before that midday peak that Frost began to feel that sweat upon his neck and flanks once more. The pair paused briefly to allow Frost and Peritas both to drink for a small stream. The wide, open, flat grasslands were all that existed between them and that finish line now. Alexander's hand rested upon his neck, the Hunter taking his feet from the stirrups to let them hang and stretch them out as he insisted Frost had done well. That journey had been nothing short of long, arduous and difficult. That race had lost over half its riders due to accident, misfortune or, quite simply- their horses unable to make that journey. Fatigue weighing heavily upon them. Frost was tired, more so then he had truly ever been. Days upon days of trotting and cantering having taken their toll and yet that end was all but in sight.

Frost had no sooner finished that drink then Alex drew up the reins once more. They need only cross that plain, go over a small rise and cross the plain on the other side to reach the finish line. It was a distant and yet rapidly approaching sound that prompted Frost to pause. One ear swiveled atop his head, the equine's violet gaze shifting to turn a moment later. He could hear....something. More so, he could smell something.

"There is another horse, Alex."

How....impossible it seemed. They had left that Akel-Teke gelding behind more than a day ago. There had been no other riders close and yet....

The sudden sound of galloping hooves broke that silence once more. A small, hardy dun stallion so flying past them in that moment, its hooves spraying water as it went. The distinct sight of Khan leaning forward atop its back prompting Frost's eyes to widen. How on earth the vampire and his pony had made up so much ground he hardly knew. That dun stallion very near sweat soaked from just how distinctly hard Khan had pushed it- quite possibly for days on end. Frost, for the barest of moments, was inclined to question whether or not the poor creature would make that journey and yet- those rules insisted only that the horse needed to cross the finish alive. Not that it needed to survive long afterward. It was the sudden nudge of Alexander's heels into his sides that prompted Frost to leap forward. His own tiredness momentarily forgotten as he broke into sudden gallop. The ivory stallion tearing across the ground and after their competition....