and if you could see whats really me58.168.75.232Posted On October 30, 2017 at 2:06 PM by Rixon Leifsson

It was a difficult thing to restrain his own affinity in those moments that seemed to linger between them. Frost careful to keep his mind from her own if only to afford her that privacy and too- to allow her to tell him that version of events without his prying into the depths of her thoughts. The way her very figure seemed to tense however, her head turned from him in some effort to hide those tears only further tugged at that desire to know just why she was so…distressed. Tears were hardly a common occurrence within his daily existence, at least, not any longer, not since he had left his homeland all those years ago. Tears from someone he held a certain measure of emotion for were another matter entirely. The very presence of that water upon her cheeks sparking a protectiveness of sorts within him and yet, for now in the least, the stallion merely attempted to offer his presence in some effort to display those attempts at comfort. The equine decidedly unused to dealing with such raw emotions, his own indecisiveness surely clear and yet that position he took up beside her seemed to be well received if nothing else. The man letting his hand find her own, his fingers lacing through hers. Those words quiet as they left his lips then, Frost glancing briefly to those sleeping children to assure he had hardly woken them. If he had learned anything in the time Nadya and the twins had lived with him it was surely that it was better to leave children sleeping. They were so much louder when they were awake.

Nadya’s words, when they came, were perhaps not unanticipated. He had warned her already that her brother would see little use for that contract. Even Frost himself had hardly found it worth the effort and yet his name upon it had been at Nadya’s request. It had meant something to the woman and as such he had merely abided by it for the sake of her own peace of mind. It cost him nothing to do so, even if he had warned her of the outcome and yet, in perhaps what was typical style for his girlfriend- she had been determined to face that challenge head on. Her boldness, her confidence, those very things that made her so wholly appealing to him were, in turn, often the very things that seemed to set her at odds with her own family and yet the stallion hardly sought to inform her of what he believed she knew deep down. Her path had diverged from her brothers long ago. Neither, perhaps, had truly desired it or the way it came about and yet Tetradore had perhaps been quicker to see the truth of it. Nadya, as women were want to do, holding on to that idea of ‘family’ longer- perhaps even for the sake of her children. Frost content to let her come to those understandings herself. After all, it was not in her nature to be told. Nor was it in his nature to tell those truths he often saw far quicker than most. Maybe his cynicism held its merits in some sense. Frost rarely disappointed in others, after all, he expected nothing from them to begin with.

It was the woman’s admittance that Tetradore had failed to acknowledge his niece and nephew that seemed to inspire that thickness of emotion to her voice. Frost once more hardly surprised to find that it was that singular point that seemed to pierce at the exterior of Nadya’s armour. Women put children first. Always. He himself had perhaps exploited her affection for her children to his favour in the very beginning- Frost hardly unwilling to admit it. His very upbringing assuring him of that singular truth that when it came to offspring- a mother would stop at nothing to assure their safety or wellbeing. Her family’s lacking acceptance of her children like a veritable knife in the woman’s side. Frost content to consider that singular statement a moment before those words finally came.

“Your brother is not a Father. Until he is he may not understand.”

That stallion paused once more, that soft exhale seeing his gaze shift somewhere beneath that hair to linger briefly upon those children again before returning to Nadya herself. His words holding that same cool, quiet tone as always.

“I am not defending him, I hardly care to- but consider too that he does not see a niece and nephew when he looks at them. Consider that, perhaps, your brother instead sees living proof of what occurred between you and his best friend. It does not make it right, Naja. It does not excuse ignoring them and I am sorry it happened, but- your brother’s views of the world are different to your own. Yours are of a Mother.”

It was, perhaps, some effort to alleviate her distress if only by attempting to offer her some explanation for her sibling’s behaviour. Whether it was correct or not he hardly knew. Frost simply content to consider just how he might react in that same situation. The man attempting to afford Nadya an understanding, no matter how foolish she believed it, of what might well be the reason for Tetradore’s apparent rejection of his bloodline. In the end children always lost. No matter the outcome of that metaphorical war. For how long Nadya would remain content to try with her siblings he hardly knew. Until it upset the children- perhaps. Frost content to draw his thoughts from it once more. Nadya assuring him Tetradore held equally as little interest in his own pack- save for a demand for a face-to-face meeting. Frost allowing one eye to raise slightly in surprise. The man content to consider that very demand for several moments. How very intriguing that was. Did Tetradore have some desire to discuss terms? Or did he merely seek to go about haunting his house all over again? Frosts fingers taping against the arm of that chair then in a ready contemplation as Nadya continued. That stress within her voice still clear. Her words not incorrect in any sense. That proposed meeting was unusual, Frost hardly foolish enough not to hold some suspicion of its intent and yet too- he held little belief this was merely some poor play upon Tetradore’s part to insight another war. This- was something else.


His thoughts were readily interrupted by her hand lifting upward then, her fingers pushing away that fringe of white hair to afford her that view of his eyes, the man letting them rest evenly upon her now. She feared he might be provoked into some sort of….battle with her brother? Frost unable to help that quirk of his lips then, such a gesture giving away that touch of amusement he seemed to find in the words all the same.

“Your brother and I have had our differences. Though I suspect he does not desire a re-match of any kind. I also suspect if he desires a meeting then I might be given little choice in the matter. I would not be hard for him to find if he required it and that….boy he calls his Beta will find me all the same.”

That meeting it seemed, would be inevitable if Tetradore was determined. Frost not unwilling to admit the curiosity that found him despite it all. After all, he hardly suspected the man was coming to offer some sort of apology, not when Frost himself was willing to take the blame for much of what had occurred before no, this was something more. There would be no apology from either of them. Frost content to sensor his opinion of Tobias in at least some measure in front of the man’s own children and yet his thoughts on that lunatic were well known. His words coming once more.

“If Tetradore desires a meeting then so be it, I will hear what he has to say. For the sake of your peace of mind, however…”

It was easy then to lean forward just so, his free hand lifting to ever-so gently rest beneath her chin, tilting her head smoothly upward before pressing his lips to her own in that stolen kiss.

“Trust that I can find his mind easily, if this is some sort of trap, some effort to inspire war or he has not come alone I will know very quickly. If you do not trust him to avoid a war- then trust me. Have I ever not kept my word?”

His lip quirked once more, one eye lifting slightly as if near daring her to disagree with such a statement. Those words gently teasing all the same. After all- Frost had, for better or worse, never yet ceased not to do as he had said he would.

f r o s t
we built this city on broken glass


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