For all Abigails overzealousness, her bright-eyed wonder and too, near overly joyous nature- Oliver was near entirely the opposite. Indeed, the other man, to an extent, reminded him of some degree to himself. Guarded, cautious, sensible and yet not entirely opposed to the joy of those around them- when it suited them to be. Hmmm. It would not be displeasing to have another man about. Abigail, by equal measure, had a great deal to offer with her energy alone even if Frost, for now, remained uncertain how best to utilise her sheer delight for the world itself. Admirable though that quality was and distinctly rare in turn. It was Oliver's request for that story that prompted the snowy-haired Alpha to consider the words for several moments before offering that tale. There was little need to conceal it, after all. Oliver asked straight questions and that, in turn, deserved straight answers even if that tale was....watered down a little out of respect for the red-haired woman and her near innocent nature. There would be little sense, after all, in betraying her view of the world too terribly much. It would be near sin, Frost was certain, to ruin Abigail's delighted nature with a story of events long past. Later, perhaps, he might find time to speak more frankly with Oliver. To offer him those details that would do nothing but upset Abigail to hear. Oliver, in turn, would surely trade him a tale of his own in return. Frost so having already deduced such a thing of the other man's nature. He was direct, honest, he did not mince words with needless, lowery language. It was as refreshing as it was respectable. Frost, for now, content to offer that same in return. That tale he offered direct and orderly before his finger rose to tap at that damaged right eye.
The blindness within his violet gaze was so hardly a notion he shared readily and yet, Frost saw little need to conceal it from Abigail. If the woman truly did seek to join his pack then was it not her right to know about her Alpha's own gaze? Oliver, in turn, was the very srt of man Frost suspected would discover that handicap quickly. It was, after all, within that nature of predators to do so. Besides, the stallion had lived so long with that damaged eye that fools alone would underestimate his ability to make up for it. Abigail seemed to near hang off every word of that tale as she rested in front of the hearth. Oliver, in turn, suggested that the loss of that eye was why they were given two chances in most cases and yet some parts of themselves, those parts of which there remained only one should perhaps take protective priority. Frost could hardly prevent that quirk of his lip,the stallion allowing that soft chuckle to rise within his throat in appreciation of that subtle, dry humour. Abigail, it seemed, remained distinctly oblivious to tht humour.
"Indeed. I should hate to lose such a thing as that."
Some parts, after all, were so decidedly....valuable. It was Oliver's query on whether or not the ones responsible for the loss of his eye had ever been brought to justice that prompted a look of consideration to the stallion's gaze once more. Revenge upon those who had caused him such distress in his youth had certainly been had and yet, there existed still other beings who could, in one way or another, be tied to that organisation. How far Frost considered those branches to be tainted enough to require retribution was perhaps a debatable thing. He stallion, here and now, seemed to consider that very notion before his head nodded. Xerxes, after all, had been the most at fault the day he had lost his eye and beneath the swing of Alexander's spear- Xerxes had certainly paid.
"Yes. In the end."
Frost offered that simple reassurance before that conversation shifted to his own expectations of the pack and just what he would require from Abigail in turn- the woman quick to insist her talents for fighting were perhaps not her strongest ability. How readily he believed such a thing. Frost, this time, was quick to insist she would hardly be required to race into battle. That alone seemed to sooth her concerns before Oliver's near off-handed comment prompted the girl to boldly insist she was a great 'Fish Finder'. What on earth a Fish Finder was Frost hardly knew. A brief moment of bafflement dared to dance upon his stoic features before Abigail spun toward him again with insistence as to her skill in this apparent art- only to query whether or not Frost was his real name. The stallion, once more, was simply inclined to shake his head.
"No, Frost is not my real name. My real name is difficult to say for people not born in Iceland, so I simply use Frost instead. It is easier for people."
'Frost' was so rarely...butchered by the tongues of those who tried to say it, unlike his own given name. The stallion had long since given up attempting to assist others in its pronunciation. Alexander alone seemed to have managed to achieve that correct sound. Abigail, it seemed, was eager to offer herself to that pack while Oliver remained....uncertain. The other man was hardly inclined to hide that notion that he was surely a liability with a past that continued to nip at his heels. It would be foolish to turn down the other man's offer of financial backing and yet it would be equally foolish for Oliver to dismiss that which Frost could do for him in turn. Those very.....matters the man faced were once distinctly familiar to Frost himself. His own offer of assistance in exchange for those funds was an arrangement of far more equal footing and an agreement that suited them both. That matter of business, however, had so hardly reached its conclusion before Abigail all but launched herself at Oliver in some sort of premeditated assault of....hugging? Frost's near ever-present demeanor of apathy gave way to a look of distinct surprise as both eyes widened. What a truly...bizarre gesture! Oliver, in turn, looked equally as shocked before a low chuckle parted his lips. The other man took that gesture well despite the fashion in which it had been launched at him. Frost had so hardly managed to recover from that initial onslaught before Abigail proceeded to lunge at him!
A small sound of surprise rose within Frost's throat as Abigail all but squeezed him with her affection, Frost's arms lifted near comical out of the way as if to spare them being pinned to his sides by her affection. How...obscure this was. Was he supposed to return this gesture? The veritable stress of where to put his arms seemed to prompt a momentary panic within the stallion. Oliver, in the least, had managed to pat the girls back in some effort to return that affection. Frost continued to appear near a deer in the headlights.
"I.....thank you Abigail. I will enjoy having you as my Vice President."
Thanking the woman for her affection, it seemed, was all the stallion could manage in that moment. Those words were sincere even despite his confusion. Abigail content to style herself a title of her own before seeing fit to command Oliver in turn. Hmmm. How very amusing it was to watch that small Panda near take control. Abigail, at last, seemed to release him from her vice-like hug of affection. Frost left appearing near baffled all the same before Oliver announced he was willing to accept that offer of help. That choice was a sensible one for both men even if neither was distinctly used to asking for it. Oliver's insistence that the manner of his remaining within that pack could surely be discussed, if only for Abigail's benefit, was met with a near knowing quirk of his lip. Abigail, in all her innocence, was a....difficult being not to desire to protect. Frost hardly found he faulted Oliver's concern even veiled within that offer of sorts. The stallion so merely nodded before extending his hand to shake Oliver's own in that simple, age old gesture of agreement.
"Yes, we will come to an arrangement that suits us both. For now however, welcome home, to the both of you."
Whether or not they chose to live in that shared house, to come and go, or merely visit so hardly mattered in the end. Pack was home all the same, in all its many facets.