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 finish line was well within their reach and with their greatest competition behind them, Alexander found himself easing up on the demanding pace he had set. That brief reprieve he'd allowed the trio at the side of a happily bubbling creek was nothing short of welcomed. Though the majority of his life had been spent in some saddle or another, it had been...decades, at least, since the Macedonian conqueror had consecutively ridden for so very long. Even he, with his body's supernatural capabilities, had begun to feel the effects of it. It was with a soft breath, and one final pat upon the ivory steed's neck, that Alexander reached down to scoop the ever eager Peritas back up and into the saddle. The puppy had managed the last few days far better then the Dark Hunter had anticipated, somehow managing to remain still for hours on end if only for the glee of the wind in its face and the view of the neverending Mongolian plains surrounding it. He had just picked up the reins to encourage his stallion onwards when Frost suddenly seemed to pause, his ears upright upon his head as they swiveled - that very look was one he knew well. His mount had heard something. His lips pressed together as Alexander turned within his saddle, quite at the same moment that Frost's thoughts filtered through his mind to inform him that, against all odds, he was certain there was another.

Just how Khan had made it this far without them noticing baffled him, just as much as the Mongolian's presence in the first place. He shouldn't have been able to catch up with them - though considering the state of the man's horse as the pair all but flew by, perhaps Alexander shouldn't have been surprised. The Dark Hunter's heels immediately pressed into the sides of his mount, spurring Frost into action as the larger stallion all but leapt after his competition. He leaned forward in the saddle, making every effort to ensure Frost reached the maximum speed he could with the finish line so terribly close. Peritas, sandwiched between Alexander's chest and Frost's back, was nearly squished in the process, though he hardly seemed to mind between both enjoying the wind in his face and Alexander's own proximity. The sound of hooves filled the air as the two horses went thundering across the plains and yet, without a doubt, they were gaining. He could see Khan glancing behind him, only to beat the flanks of his horse with the stick in his hand in a feeble effort to encourage it faster on still - as if the dun steed had anything left to give. It hardly took long before they drew up alongside Khan, just before the crest of the hill. Frost's lead, however, was forced to give away that momentary margin as they were forced to shift to a far more controlled gait.

Alexander quite literally threw his physique backward as Frost's heels dug into the ground in an attempt to reduce his speed upon the steep hillside. In this alone did that far lighter Dun have the advantage, the smaller horse quickly regaining that lead, no matter how small it was. Khan's stallion hit the base of the hill first, only to throw himself forward and across the flat plains that Alexander knew his own horse so excelled at. There was still a chance for the pair to win, still the possibility of besting the Mongolian and Alexander had little intention of merely giving up. His heels pressed eagerly to Frost's side the moment the stallion's hooves graced the plains, encouraging the steed onward as he leaned forward again. Beneath him, Peritas had begun to yip at the vampire and dun as they swiftly drew alongside them, as if the little puppy was somehow ferocious enough to see even the undead falter. The thunderous sound of hooves filled the air, stifling the roar of the crowd that had begun to shout in earnest at the sight of the two riders charging towards the finish line. He could see that arch in the distance, the one that signaled the end of the race, "Éla, Frost. Grigorótera!" (Come on Frost, Faster!) Those words were all but muttered in his native tongue as he encouraged his mount further faster still, the Dark Hunter keeping so carefully in tune with his stallion even in spite of it. His victory, after all, still hinged upon Frost's health.

The Dun beside them hardly seemed inclined to yield that win either, the Mongolian upon his back nearly screaming at it as that horse stick came down again and again upon the creature's flanks. Despite Khan's 'encouragement', Frost slowly began to draw away from the other horse, inching forward with each passing footfall till his entire head was in front, then his shoulders and finally, finally the pair was a whole length in front of Khan and his Dun. Frost all but threw himself over the finish line with the dun stallion at their heels. The very moment they crossed the finish line, Alexander's grip tightened upon the reins, pulling Frost back and, finally, to a halt. The Macedonian glanced over his shoulder, a smug simper settled upon his features as he eyed the Mongolian for what was merely seconds before the crowd was upon them in a cacophony of cheers. Alexander lifted Peritas into his arms as he swung from the saddle, allowing himself to be practically embraced by the crowd as cameras flashed eagerly. A rare simper alit the handsome Monarch's features, offering a glimpse into that charisma he had once been so well known for. Even so, he hardly allowed his attention to linger upon his newfound fanfare for long. It was vastly more important to the Dark Hunter to have his victory over Khan solidified. The blue-green of his irises quickly found Matteo and Frost as his son led his mount towards the awaiting veterinarians. Alexander made his way towards the fenced off area, only to lean against one of the wooden posts as he waited in silence for the conclusion of their astute poking and prodding of his horse, Peritas still nestled in his arms as if he feared the poor puppy getting trampled by the crowd that surrounded him with baited breath.

Alexander's gaze shifted studiously between the vets as they discussed the state of his stallion in hushed voices and Frost himself, the horse led in large circles to keep the steed moving in the aftermath of that heated race. He knew his mount's condition was nothing short of acceptable - lifetimes spent with horses informing him such and yet, it was not his opinion that mattered. Not here, at any rate. The oceanic blue of his gaze shifted towards the veterinarians as they finally turned their attention towards the waiting rider, only to nod in satisfaction. That small gesture was all that was necessary for a near deafening roar to break out amongst the throng that surrounded the Macedonian Monarch. A smug simper of satisfaction settled across his features as Alexander was offered several pats on the back, a parade of firm handshakes, requests for photos, and other words of celebration. How they swarmed him and, for a moment, the King allowed himself to be lost in their enthusiasm. It was nearly an hour later before he was finally able to leave that crowd, albeit with several photographers in tow, eager to snap his picture with Frost and to capture that moment in which he officially received his prize for earning the first place within the race.

"You!" Alexander finally uttered the moment father and son were given a moment alone. "You are in trouble. Don't give me that look, Matteo." He insisted, his finger already pointing at the Frenchman and Matteo provided him with a face of utter innocence. Even in spite of his good mood, Alexander had hardly forgotten that near death experience at the side of the mountain, nor Matteo's failure to forewarn him of what was to come. He all but ignored the gentle nosing of his steed against his pocket, that sugar almost...'forgotten' in the wake of a far more important conversation...or at least, it was placed out of his mind, at the present moment. That argument, however, was halted momentarily as the pair were approached by a veterinarian with the Dun stallion in tow, trudging slowly behind him. A small frown crossed his features at the very sight of the now feeble looking horse, the blood upon his nose altogether visible as the vet called out for him. His brows furrowed as those oceanic eyes briefly swept over the camp, only to note the lack of both Khan and his groom. The man had simply left his mount behind? A scowl crossed his features, one that deepened as Frost's thoughts entered his mind, the white steed's head easily pushed away from his pocket as he turned towards the vet with his hand outstretched.

His gaze turned briefly towards Matteo even as the reins were placed within his hand, the Dun led closer towards him and within the Frenchman's reach. Not even a word needed to be uttered for Matteo to understand that unspoken thought that lingered within his mind, his son quickly scowling even as he ran his hand over the steed. It was Matteo's threat to send him the foals of this stallion that prompted an audible snort from the Macedonian's nose. "You should be honored to get foals from him, he nearly beat Frost, after all." He commented with a grin, even as his hand reached up almost gingerly towards the creature's nose. "Sas, tha se frontísoume tóra. Eísai asfalís." (Shhh, we'll take care of you now. You're safe). The Dark Hunter muttered softly towards the creature, only for that soft push from his other side to make a bid for his attention again. A soft breath left Alexander's lips as he reached into his pocket, only to pull out those very sugar cubes Frost sought. One was tossed effortlessly towards the ivory stallion, leaving Frost to find and nibble on it while a second was handed towards the Dun as a treat for a job equally as well done, even if he would forever be handicapped by his previous rider's cruelty.