That nearly blunt reply to the query of just what the age-old Hunter had been doing merely saw the subtle lift of one of Frost's own eyes somewhere beneath that fringe of snowy white hair. The stallion hardly inquiring any further upon it, nor did he anticipate for Alexander to elaborate. His rider was a significantly aged fellow, Frost content to believe the man was merely afflicted by any number of unusual quirks that came with those insurmountable years. If playing board games by himself was the worst of it then Frost hardly saw any need to complain, then again, the stallion was hardly convinced the Hunter was as alone as he appeared to be. The scent of someone else lingered in that room, that cologne not Alexander's own, the equine decidedly sensitive to those small nuances even if he hardly appeared to be. The matter brushed off altogether but a few moments later as Frost returned that piece to the board. Alexander eyeing it as if to make sure he placed it exactly where it had come from lest he somehow disturb the delicate balance of the board. Very well then.

His arms folded across his chest as he withdrew his hand, the equine quick to press on to the purpose of his visit. Frost hardly the sort of man inclined idle talk or nonsense pleasantries when both men surely knew he was here for a reason. That very reason currently camped several miles away on the outskirts of town in those fields that boarded the southern forests. The mere mention of that singular name seemed to prompt a furrow within the Hunter's brow as Frost had fully anticipated it might, the stallion pressing on with those small scatterings of detail once his companion's attention was thoroughly seized. That small, near trickling of thought that bled from the Hunter's mind to his own was hardly truly surprising. Frost himself already having considered that this was one battle whose odds did not rest in their favour. Nor would they be easy to turn and yet if there was anything the equine so excelled at it was surely proving to more intelligent than those he chose to come against. Alexander, if history spoke truly, inclined to be much the same. Frost choosing to remain silent as those few moments passed before that near goading comment of the rain seemed to return Alexander's thoughts to the present. That query of how many seeing the younger man brush that hair from his violet gaze then, his good eye resting upon the Hunter.

"Xerxes himself and his WereHorse, Darius, plus three of his so-called Immortals. All Hunters. Two of them were with him seated around the campfire. I couldn't see the third one but I could smell him and his horse- they couldn't have been far. A scout maybe. The horses were hitched only a few feet from them, easily within their reach."

That information was delivered swiftly enough. Frost having heard enough war councils in his young years to understand just what information was important and what was not in those moments. The man presenting his companion with those facts alone as the Hunter rose and turned to head upstairs, Frost simply following behind before pausing within that doorway. The stallion hardly inclined to press into that...personal space of his companion's very bedroom as he lent against that door frame. His violet gaze glancing away from the man as he changed to eye several of those paintings that decorated the walls. His gaze resting briefly on a large handmade rope bridle resting beside the Hunter's bed. Had Alexander always owned that? The near faint scent of that curious cologne lingering vaguely up here as well. Frost frowning slightly before dismissing it once more in favour of returning his thoughts to those further questions. Hmm. It was almost as if the Hunter hardly trusted him to get any useful information at all and yet, once more, the equine hardly commented. If he hardly learned anything about dealing with Alexander it was surely that arguing with a man whose will was as indomitable as his own was pointless. Besides- Alexander would do as he pleased regardless each and every time. Frost, on several occasions, having found himself giving in to the Hunter's desires quite before he realised he had. Clever bastard that Alex was sometimes.

"They are camped on the far side of the field, against the tree line. Meaning we would have to spend two or three hours riding around them to outflank them to come at them from the side or behind through the forest. The first problem with that is that they will likely hear us through that undergrowth, the second is that I will be lucky to get faster than a canter through those trees which give no maneuverability either and lastly, while they might give us cover- their horses are between them and the trees. Those horses will have a fair chance of smelling us before they even hear us and they will alert Xerxes."

He paused, allowing Alexander to consider that plan and the problems Frost had already identified with it from his own perspective before continuing on, his gaze brushing over several more of those curious oddities within the Hunter's room as he did.

"We could also come at them from straight across the field, it's flat and open, a little uneven underfoot but I can reach a full gallop there. They will see us coming without fail though and if they have ranged weapons or abilities of any kind we will be an easy target. I don't know all of their affinities. Xerxes horse, Darius, is a teleporter though, as long as he is on him they will keep teleporting. Darius....is from the same place I am. He's ten years older than me though, they were breeding a different style of war horse back then. He is lighter and faster than I am- but he isn't nearly as physically strong."

It was rare, in any sense, for Frost to make any mention of that homeland or anything that existed within his past. Alexander never asked and Frost hardly cared to speak of those torments he had long since left behind. That information offered purely because it was a necessity. Xerxes horse undeniably the swifter animal and yet that swiftness had come at the cost of its raw power. Frost falling silent once more to allow Alexander the chance to process that information or pose those further questions to him. The stallion eyeing the man once more as he finished dressing.

"Do you have any sort of body armour or anything to go under that? Do we need a saddle or anything else? I don't need you falling off tonight of all nights."

Alexander had never yet fallen off him, nor had he been unable to unseat the Hunter even when he had tried and yet it was that...concern for the man, even if he hardly cared to admit it, that perhaps prompted those words all the same. This one of the few times within the existence of the surly stallion that he was content to display any level of concern for the welfare of another being even if veiled behind that guarded exterior.

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