James had never truly cared what had been said about him, and yet, Lise's voice was practically grating his nerve endings as she drunkenly speed out he was having a rough day and that he had been the one to trip. Glowering down at her with such rage, he doesn't make a move to help the woman to his feet, instead those green eyes dart over to the newcomer. The man seemingly far too amused at the current situation, it was one thing to be spoken badly about however, it was entirely different when he was being laughed at. As he demands who the bloody hell this man was, the white haired man replies simply with a name that has James blinking. Truly that wasn't his real name, though James was hardly in the mood to discuss such a thing, instead, he turns those blazing eyes on Frost, his attention briefly returning to Lisé as she states that he wasn't talking to him.

Grunting unceremoniously at the woman as she exclaims she did not want to return home and instead, she wanted to continue making snow angels on the ground. Bewildered, he stares down at her as she stretches her arms above her head. What a foolish girl! He's almost tempted to reach down and yank her to her feet, though he thinks better of it, hardly wanting to touch her in any sense. Finally, if her own accord, Lisé pushes herself to a standing position, only to regard her work in the snow, a sneer so coating his features in that moment. As she speaks of her parents, Frost is the first to respond before James can get a word out, "Your parents are dead, I'm certain they'd be proud of the person you've become today," he sneers sarcastically at her before she moves away only to fall face first into the snow. For the love of god, this woman could not hold her liquor to save her life.

Lisé then suggests that they should make snow angels, James's annoyance clear on his features. His attention returns back to Frost when the man states that he should go first, only to tack on an insult at the end of his remark. Glowering fiercely, he bites his tongue, hardly wanting to cause more of a scene on the sidewalk than there already was, "Let me make something very clear, we are not friends," he gestures between himself and Lisé, "As for my mood, you do not need to be here," James says, his voice edged with rage though he was beginning to gather his wits, pushing that anger deeper inside of him. As much as he wanted to call forth that power and use it on both of the unnatural creatures before him, he refrains.

Lisé begins to spout nonsense, hardly affording her any attention as he watches her drunkenly stumble around before falling to the ground. Frost's next words have the man blinking in confusion. Why the bloody hell were they talking about giraffes? Grunting to himself, he moves away from Lisé and the man not caring if she made it home or not, she was entirely capable of defending herself even in that drunken state. How many times had she brought a lover home? He's about to turn when his name is uttered by the white haired man, James's gaze returning to him briefly. There's a pause between those words but when he finally makes a statement, James merely narrows his gaze at the man, ignoring him altogether. He would not allow such a lowly creature to antagonize him further. "Lisé, either you get up and come home or you'll be walking back to the mansion," he says coolly, green eyes flitting down to the woman who continued to play in that snow.

He gives her a moment to decide, though he's almost entirely sure the woman would remain where she was. "Suit yourself," he says dryly, shrugging at her before turning on a heel and moving away from the couple that had so ruined his night. He hardly afforded the man with another glance, nor another word.