It was not exactly polite, Frost knew, to allow his words to bite back at the mare before him as they did and yet oh how she irritated his nerves! Her hot tempered nature seemed to collide almost forcefully with his own. Yet-despite her distinctly...aggravating personality the equine could hardly deny how utterly attractive she was in every sense of the word. Even her very nature, in all its abrasive, argumentative desire was alluring in a fashion. The stallion, for now, perhaps unwilling to admit that very thing even if the thought had taken root within his mind. Frost's chest pressed up agianst the top railing of the fence. The draft stallion, for several moments, considering whether or not he might make that jump and yet- Alexander would be more than irritated if he were forced to repair the entire pasture fencing were his hooves to clip it. That desire to stand with the mare without a barrier between them one that, for now, would need to linger a little longer. Frost tail lashed upward to flick agianst his flanks, his ears flickering briefly backward in discord as the mare turned his own words upon him. The supposed unicorn daring to suggest that perhaps it was she who was too much for him to handle. Perhaps he should stick to regular mares. Fillies even. An irritable snort parted the stallion's nostrils and yet, for now at least, Frost made no further effort to engage her in that back and forth they seemed to have settled upon.

The unicorn seemed to straighten herself then. Her white forelock fell softly agianst her dark eyes as she insisted he had won a prize. One that differed from the saddle and money awarded to Alexander already. The ethereal mare was apparently content to insist she would award him something. Even if his very nature reminded her of the other unicorns she had met. It was that near striking realization that seemed to settle at the forefront of Frost's mind in that moment. The others. There were more unicorns? Not merely just one? Alexander would never believe him. The Hunter already took issue with his insistence on thismares existence. Yet somehow the notion that there were more of such ethereal beings was...intriguing. Even if the mare before him hardly seemed to think so. She snorted near irritability in turn, as if such a question was a waste of her time before insisting that yes, there were others. Her words were nothing short of near flat as she reiterated her earlier request. The mare insisted he choose this apparent prize. Frost's violet gaze shifted to meet her own beneath his thickened forelock of hair, the equine eyeing her almost warily. A part of him uninclined to believe she truly intended to give him anything. Not with her attitude so far. Even if she appeared....determined. The war horse was silent for several long moments, Frost considering those veritable options before him before insisting that he had told her his name- or at least- the name he most commonly went by. He, in turn, was surely owed hers.

It was, Frost was certain, the first genuine surprise he had seen upon her features. The mare, in that moment, was content to gawk openly at him as if such a prize had been entirely unanticipated. Hmmm. Perhaps she had expected more from him. Perhaps she had expected him to be like everybody else. Frost was silently inclined to enjoy that disbelief he had coaxed to her features before she seemed to consider that request- only to insist he could call her...Aislinn. Aislinn. Frost's own head tilted slightly. He had not heard that name before. It sounded almost...gaelic. Frost's thoughts upon the matter were nearly abruptly halted by Aislinn's sudden step away from the fence, the mare so clearly intending on taking her leave- a leave she insisted was not running away so much as it was merely a chance to leave his disagreeable company.

"I've been told that I am 'not agreeable company' since I was five years old. I fear the trait might be permanent."

A trace of amusement seemed to linger within those very words. Frost, once more, near loathing the presence of the fence that separated them as Aislinn paused a final time, the unicorn mare turning to face him before insisting (almost regrettably) that he....had run a good race. Not that he needed to be told such a thing. After all, all of Mongolia had told him as such. What was the opinion of one more haughty mare?

"The opinion of a haughty mare does not matter so much- but a haughty unicorn, I think, I am inclined to remember receiving praise from. Goodnight, Aislinn."

It was perhaps the....gentlest of words they had exchanged so far. Frost, once more, finding himself near inclined to reach his muzzle toward her own and yet it was the near raucous sound of someone emerging from that celebration hall that drew the stallion's attention. Alexander, with Matteo in tow, had all but stumbled out. The pair laughing far more than Frost was certain was necessary. The equine gaze shifted back toward Aislinn. The very place she had stood only moments ago was utterly vacant now. Little more than her hoofprints upon the arth remaining and yet- he had anticipated that very thing. The faintest simper tugging at his lips in response. Surely.....he might find her again. Somehow. Perhaps he might find these other unicorns. Alexander, despite his disbelief, might surely know....something of the creatures and where they were supposed to roam. Frost moved to turn away from that fence then, his hooves shifting into a trot, his feathered feet carrying him lightly back across that paddock and towards his decidedly drunk rider and groom, the pair all but falling over themselves beside the pasture fence. The very sight prompted a roll of the equine's eyes as he approached them. Who were you talking to?" Matteo's sudden question prompted a distinct look of surprise to the equines' features.

"You saw her?"

He enquired near warily. The Frenchman paused to lift that bottle of alcohol to his lips once more, his gaze briefly shifting to the far corner of the paddock- his shoulders lifting into a sudden shrug "I don't know, ah, I see a lot of things Mon Amie." Alexander's sudden declaration that Matteo never saw the right things because he was far too busy seeing women seemed to prompt the pair into laughter once more. Frost content to eye them both with discord. Wonderful. How useful they both were tonight.

"If one of you could harness your powers of focus, limited as they may be tonight, I require to know where the name Aislinn comes from."

Alexander proceeded to point to Matteo, the Frenchman abruptly raising his hand as if he'd been called upon in class. "It is my language. It is Celtic. Ancient Celtic at that. It means...dream or...vision". Matteo's words abruptly seemed to shift into what Frost could only presume was Celtic itself. Whatever he had said seemed to amuse Alexander all over again. The pair rapidly began to converse in what Frost suspected was yet another language entirely. Frost snorted softly, the equine content to leave the pair to....god knows what for the rest of the evening as he turned away- his hoofs halted only by the sudden touch of Alexander's hand at his shoulder. His violet gaze turned to meet the blue green of his rider's own. The Hunter inquired who Aislinn was. Frost's own shoulders lifted in a veritable shrug (quite a feat for a horse).

"My future wife, I think."

The faintest of simpers once more managed to find the equine's lips, Frost turning away from the pair then, leaving them to enjoy the rest of the night as they saw fit. His own hooves carried him towards the waiting hay at the far side of the pasture. His mind was content to consider the unicorn once more and just where she had retreated too. The war horse inclined to suspect she had hardly gone far tonight. Tomorrow, perhaps, a hung-over Alexander might yet prove more...agreeable in convincing to chase after that which he believed did not exist.