i used to rule the world

seas would rise when i gave the word

Alexander hardly anticipated the steed's blatant help in the matter of the wound upon his neck. The stallion had proved time and time again his entire disregard for the welfare of others, except, perhaps when necessity demanded otherwise. Frankly, the Macedonian King suspected such was the case in the given scenario. His own blood would serve only to bring others to their side when they clearly wished to be discreet. It was beneficial to rid him of the wound, even if it hardly helped with the itching that beset his shoulder. Still, he hardly complained in the slightest, instead offering his companion two singular words - "Thank you." It was muttered softly, his hand reaching out at the press of Frost's muzzle to lightly pat the creature's nose before his attention turned to a far more pressing manner. He disregarded the running girl entirely, leaving her to the ivory stallion only for the man to turn his attention towards the screaming woman. His efforts to calm her, however, backfired against him, and but seconds after Frost's word of warning entered his mind, Alexander found himself tossed with veritable ease across that small cave, his body slamming into the wall as he fell onto the cold hard stone.

It took effort for Alexander to rise, that wind wholly knocked out of him. His head ached from the impact, his body entirely hurting in that moment and yet, with the knowledge of war upon his doorstep, the conqueror refused to be bested. Damn - he was way too old for this. Still, Alexander's own affinity lashed out as the King dragged himself to his feet. There was a hint of determination that filled the man, entirely unwilling to be bested by a singular vampire. It was effortless, the way in which his ability took hold of those meager peasants, so urging them into the soldiers he wanted them to be. They fell into such perfect ranks within that moment, those weapons created by his own determination so settling within their hands whilst Alexander strode with purpose back towards that ivory stallion that stood by. He hardly voiced a word to his companion in those moments as his affinity too encompassed his steed, preparing him for war. His gaze turned to face that formation he'd coaxed to life, those words of encouragement falling from his lips within those moments as he strove to impress the desire to fight within them.

That inquiry that was impressed upon his mind was met with a small shrug as the Dark Hunter's fists dug into the ivory trestles of the horse's mane, the King pulling himself upwards and onto Frost's back. "When I needed to use it." He offered in response, that singular thought nestled into his companion's mind. It was not often that the Macedonian man saw fit to share those abilities with others - after all that enigmaticness he so often presented the world served solely to protect himself. After all, despite their decided teamwork on this venture, he was hardly assured yet that Frost would remain his after they had outlived their use for each other. For now, however, Alexander's attention turned back towards the tunnel and the oncoming sound of feet upon stone. They were coming. This was hardly the battleground upon which he wished to face them though, given the circumstances, he supposed it was the best he could hope for. At least that small tunnel allowed them to reduce their ranks and funnel the undead. It might provide his makeshift army the upper hand they needed to see the day through.

His blue-green eyes turned at the sound of harm within his ranks, his eyes narrowing at the sight of that woman that had thrown him but moments before as she so effortlessly took down two of the men whom he'd coerced to join him. Unfortunately, he scare had a chance to react before the thundering sound of those vampiric feet rushed into the cave, their movements far faster than the mortals that surrounded him. A growl left his lips as his feet dug into the steed's side, encouraging Frost onwards to meet that certain death. His own beloved sword appeared within his outstretched hand, it's blade perfectly sharpened for what he knew would have to come. After all, they were the undead, a simple slice to the tendon or rip in the stomach was hardy enough to down their kind. His sword collided solidly through the first soul, slicing the man from shoulder to armpit and, quite effectively beheading him in the process. He swung to his other side, his sword cleaving through them with all the skill of a man who'd spent the majority of several thousand of years in situations exactly like this. Alexander was well aware of the presence of those undead closing in on him, their hands grabbing at him, teeth snapping and powers often flailing.

It was the collision, however, of that figure into him that finally threw the Dark Hunter off balance as he turned to present that vampire whom attempted to bite through his clothes the entirety of his attention. The pommel of his hilt collided into the creature's skull not but moments before Frost's own teeth dug into it's leg, effectively pulling the creature off of them. "Good job." The word was nearly breathlessly upon his lips, his own thoughts far too turbulent with possible outcomes to this battle and ways he might command his army to best the crawling tunnels, not to mention the extreme concentration required to not only fight but also to lead them into fighting. It was all too difficult to communicate in that wordless fashion the pair had only just started mastering. There had to be someone whom had led the undead into the fray, someone whom commanded them, someone he could kill to turn the tides. His own blue-green eyes feverishly searched that battlefield whilst he let Frost continue that loping movement, altogether unaffected by the man's own efforts to help their pathetic army. At least, until his eyes fell upon her. The simple sight of her caused his heels to dig lightly into the horse's side, his gaze simply observing her movements for several moments before her sickening simper turned to land upon him. How quaint.

He directed Frost towards her, entirely willing to let the steed charge at the woman. That trickle of the female's thoughts within his mind through the man beneath him caused him to nod ever so slightly in understanding. "It's best we ensure that doesn't happen." He commented simply. That demand for an order however, saw the Hunter's lips press together ever so slightly. He wasn't used to his mounts demanding to know his intentions. 'I'm going to face her on foot, for now.' That singular thoughts was surely accompanied with but vague images of himself on Bucephalus using the same technique, the hunter sliding from that makeshift saddle all those years ago to face whomever necessary to ensure his horse's' health. It was perhaps not his best idea, but he doubted Frost had any better ideas. He shifted ever so slightly in his saddle as they quickly closed the distance, fully intending to leap from the saddle and face her head on.