we built this city on broken glass

That look in Malia's gaze was very near predatory. The young woman appearing for all the world as if she delighted in the idea of being able to pull that arrow from his arm, Frost content to eye her almost warily as she came towards him. That simple command to not look quite so gleeful at the idea prompting a 'sorry' from the young woman that lacked any true remorse at all. Frost's own gaze narrowing only further on her in turn. That prey part of himself responding almost instinctively to the predatory manner Malia moved in, that very command for fight or flight rapidly beginning to tug near forcefully at him and yet that very dominance that so laced his figure refused to allow him to move away from her all the same. Frost so settling for holding his ground and affording her that wary stare. No part of him inclined to believe that effort at appearing ashamed she presented him with. Canines, he had decided, were decidedly talented at appearing guilty even when he was assured they hardly believed they were in any sense.

Frost's arm extended outward once more only for the stallion to rest it upon the counter surface, his free hand reaching to wrist atop his own wrist and hold his arm in place to allow Malia to begin to unscrew that arrowhead. The young woman decidedly more talented at that task then he had anticipated. Her touches quick and yet gentle all at once. Her fingers moving deftly. Hmm. Perhaps she was better at this then he'd been willing to give her credit for. That arrow head was at last removed as Alexander had suggested it could be, Malia laying it out on the bench beside them. Frost readily bracing himself for what he knew was sure to come. He had been injured before, countless times, so many years serving with that Mounted Unit had seen him slashed, kicked, bitten, punched, the loss of sight in his right eye and a bullet to his shoulder. Yet, he hardly remembered any of them hurting nearly so much as that arrow embedded within his flesh. That shaft raking against his nerves with each and every moment and forcing that air between his teeth in a hiss. Christ this was about to hurt. That rag that was suddenly handed towards him readily seemed to encourage that near blank look before Malia insisted that it was to bite down on. Frost not unwilling to admit that was a sound idea.

The war horse slipped that fabric between his teeth. The snowy-haired man already biting down on that fabric in anticipation. Malia insisting she would pull on three. Frost attempting to relax his arm as much as possible. That 'one' barely having left the woman's lips before she yanked that arrow free- tearing open that healed flesh in the process. Frost's eyes suddenly widening as his jaw all but clamped down on that rag until it near hurt. The rag, perhaps fortunately, muffling that cry on his lips. His foot slammed down on the floor, Malia glaring at him with that insistence to shoosh as that rag was spat free- a string of expletives following in its wake. The young woman insisting that at least it was out. That, he supposed, was the only fortunate thing about this endeavour at all. Frost taking several more long moments to wrestle back that control and wait for that pain to die down. That rag Malia held to his arm lifted just slightly to peer at the already healing wound. An hour or so and there would be no sign of it at all. That more genuine thanks upon his lips this time. Malia offering him an equally more genuine smile then before.

Frost reached for yet another of this rags then. The stallion beginning to attempt to mop up the blood he had successfully spread across the kitchen and the tiles off the floor, that wound having bled readily in the wake of Malia's removal of the arrow to spatter the floor in red. Nadya sure to chastise him for it come the morning. The sooner it was clean the better. Malia's query on just who that arrow belonged too however seemed to prompt that fleeting simper back to his lips. How very....Malia like to seek the source of that damage right away. Frost hardly opposed to her enthusiasm. At least, not in this. Even if he remained unsure of exactly who had fired that arrow at him. That suggestion that she might desire to return with him to the park seeing the woman step forward eagerly. How well she would have done in the army. His head nodding in agreement to her statement all the same.

"A slim chance is better than no chance. Come, we will see what we can find- and here- take this and compare it to the one in your room, tell me if they are the same. I'll wait here."

Frost reached to hand Malia that arrow shaft, affording the woman several moments to hurry back up those stairs and compare the arrows while he finished tidying that kitchen. His own arm throbbing less and less as the wound healed only more and more. He would take those arrows to Alexander tomorrow. If anyone knew to which hunter they belonged it was like Alex. Provided of course, they did not find their man tonight. Malia hardly kept him waiting long, the woman appearing a few moments later. Frost glancing toward her quizzically then.

"Well?"

Frost was, if nothing else, so often a man of few words. The stallion curious as to what Malia might have been able to find as he waved for his pack mate to follow him. Frost leading the way down the hall and back towards the front door before stepping out into the cool of the night air once more- the stallion making his way down those steps and onto the road. Those violet eyes lingering upon his companion beneath that forelock of white hair.

"Do you want to run there in your animal form or do you want a ride?"

FrosT