Alexander Macedonia

when I walk into the room there's nothing you can do
To stop me from making moves
I'm coming for you

Oh, how aware Alexander was of the impact the admittance of his relation to Aiden would be - though he had remained silent upon it thus far, the Macedonian was well aware of his steed's previous transgressions with his own grandson. It had...irritated him to say the least, at the news of Aiden's short-lived 'death' and yet, Matteo had insisted the pair remain largely out of the event. Aiden, he had insisted, needed this precious time away from his life of slavery to establish his own world, to make his own mistakes, and to cope with the consequences of them and the world at large. Still, the weariness of those thoughts upon Frost's mind had hardly gone unnoticed by the Dark-Hunter. "Yes, him. Matteo adopted him when he was a child." He offered, that explanation kept purposefully vague and yet, the lack of any familial resemblance between the three generations of men surely required some explanation. Alexander was entirely attentive to each thought that so fluttered through Frost's mind, from that concern of his own knowledge of what had transpired between the two men to, fleetingly, Aiden's death, and finally that night he had spent with Tetradore in the mountains far from Sacrosanct's city limits.

It was that very night that Frost seemed to so focus on, the Were increasingly aware of that mental connection the two shared and yet Alexander hardly showed any indication at all that he was observant of those mild concerns, much less even acknowledge those unspoken thoughts at all. After all, his intentions in his own confession had already come to fruition, the ivory stallion well aware of the importance of the Western Alpha to the Conquerer. The fact alone was sure to curtail any further considerations Frost might have of making any such mistake as attacking his grandson ever again. That limited family he had, after all, meant the world to the Dark-Hunter and Aiden, in turn, so fell beneath that minuscule umbrella of unwavering protection - as much as Matteo would allow him. He was silent for several moments as Frost's thoughts pinpointed upon the shared power between father and son, that teleportation a curious trait to have passed. The very thought stored away along with the mental consideration to review the extensive breeding research that the Cavalry had previously performed, even if Alexander had discontinued it till a better, more...humane method could be established. "You have no idea." The Dark-Hunter muttered of Matteo and Aiden's similarities, the poor boy taking far too many of Matteo's terrible coping mechanisms as his own. Still, such introspection was hardly appropriate now, Aiden's extensive history purposefully kept out of his mind as the steed and Hunter fell to a comfortable sort of silence.

In that quietness, the pair found an almost comfortable pace, the Macedonian entirely at ease upon the large draft stallion's spine. How long it had been since he had ridden quite like this - those miles and miles of plains stretched as far as the horizon. How like his childhood it was, back before Macedonia had lost itself and the Greek countryside became modernized and filled with people. A soft breath left his lips, Alexander, much like the stallion beneath him, content to consider a time long past for both of them. The pair had only just begun their descent into the valley when the sound of hooves immediately tugged at Alexander's attention. The Conqueror shifted ever so slightly in his saddle, that feminine voice only further distracting him as Joceyln and Maddie pushed their mounts harder to catch up to them. The last thing he had anticipated, admittedly, as the two women joined them, was the news of an attack upon Matteo shortly after his departure. The very news nothing short of fury inducing within the vengeful warlord, even if he attempted to exude little more than concern for his groom. His fingers tightened upon those reins as the pair of women chattered obliviously beside him.

It was the absence of that bridge, however, that finally prompted the small party to halt upon the river's filled banks. The pieces of wood that bobbed within the quick-moving water spoke volumes of the bridge's recent demise, much less the very sight of the dun stallion upon the horizon, looking on with a subtle glimpse of pleasure, Alexander was sure. That irritation that filled the hunter, however, only worsened as the skies took that very moment to break open, releasing a downpour that threatened to flood the already swelling river banks. The King was afforded but a single moment of forewarning before Frost plunged forward and into the depths of the river, the water rapidly rising up the stallion's legs to brush just beneath the steed's belly, forcing Alexander to shift lest his shoes become submerged in the arctic waters. Oh, how his steed's antics had immediately garnered the attention of the two women! The females entirely hesitant to follow him into the river and Alexander, in turn, was eager to encourage them onwards in search of a far safer route. Their poor equines were ill-equipped to handle the onslaught of that undertow.

Thankfully, the women were quick to heed his advice, the pair turning on their heels to run downstream in search of the next point they might cross the river. For a moment, the oceanic hue of his irises watched their retreating form before a singular word escaped his lips. The aggravated tone within his accented voice was all that was necessary to send Frost wading from the water and upon the safety of the now muddy bank. Unfortunately, escaping from the river hardly provided the Macedonian with any relief from the wetness that assaulted him, the skies seemingly keen to drown the rider and stallion. Nevertheless, Frost's pace increased, the stallion as eager as he was to make up the lost distance between them and Khan even in spite of the dismal weather. This time, Alexander hardly made an effort to stop the steed, the King instead shifting in his saddle to pull a plastic raincoat from the depths of his saddlebag. He slid the crinkling material onto his muscular frame, plucking the hood up and over his damp, stuck locks. It hardly helped much, however, the rain still beating against his face. Nor did it assist in the coldness that afflicted him as the wind cut through the light material. A shudder ran down his spine, though Alexander said little of that discomfort when there were miles still to cross and a Mongolian warlord still to best.

He hardly anticipated the kindness of the ivory stallion beneath him as Frost summoned his own abilities. The comfortable heat all but embraced his figure, chasing away the afternoon chill. It was a simple gesture and one that Alexander found himself appreciating more that he might have liked to have admitted. "Thank you." The thought passed wordlessly towards Frost, Alexander entirely certain that the draft would hear it even if neither man chose to acknowledge it any further as Frost continued onwards into the shadow of the valley. Those walls towered above them as their pathway increasingly narrowed, Alexander vaguely aware of the tenseness within his steed's muscles and yet, he was more than willing to let some sort of conversation develop between the two if only for a way of distraction. Jocelyn, Frost had assured him, had taken a great interest within him. It was an opportunity that the stallion was certain had gone missed and yet, the Monarch was still under the belief that both women would hardly give up their advances before Matteo and himself left Mongolia. Victory, after all, so tended to be an eternal lure for the opposite sex. Rixon, however, seemed entirely caught off guard by Alexander's willingness to engage in such activities with his son in the same room. A soft chuckle left the Dark Hunter's lips, the man hardly perturbed by Frost's mistaken view of his precollections. "Ahh, you forget who taught him how to properly enjoy a woman."

That conversation, however, was cut off abruptly as the pair approached a fork in the road - this very choice surely but one of many that would change the very outcome of the race ahead of them. For a silent moment, Alexander intensely inspected the options ahead of him before he urged his stallion upon the road less traveled - it's path far more treacherous but too far quicker. Speed, after all, was of essence to the Macedonian. That road, unfortunately, became all the narrower as they pressed ever forward, the cliffside hardly guarded in any fashion, providing Alexander with a spectacular view of what could be his own death should Frost take one wayward step. His oceanic gaze traced the bottom of the narrow 'v', eying the jagged rocks and water that had begun to pool amongst the loose shale. It would hardly be a pleasant fall, the Monarch's attention near purposefully turning away from the long descent as Frost continued onwards with diligence. That was, at least, until quite abruptly, he simply stopped. The corner of Alexander's lips tilted downwards as his heels lightly pressed into the ivory steed's side, encouraging the beast onwards. His insistence to continue on, however, was short-lived, the King hardly oblivious to the sudden prick of the stallion's ears. The Greek's posture straightened ever so slightly, the blue-green of his gaze scanning the area ahead and yet there was distinctly little to see. Not a single soul dotted the horizon, any trace of other riders entirely gone. Gingerly, his heels pressed against his steed's sides again, encouraging him onwards once more and yet, Frost seemed keen to remain exactly where he was.

It was several moments longer, unfortunately, before that rumbling sound reached Alexander's own ears, the very melody so saw the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. Those instincts only just beginning to ensnare the Hunter quite in the same moment that Frost wheeled backward, his entire physique taunt. The King's gaze turned upwards quite in time with Frost's own, the pair finally able to locate that very sound only for Alexander's blue-green eyes to widen in shock of the onslaught of rocks that came tumbling from above. That singular word was hardly necessary from his lips before Frost scrambled out of the way of that avalanche. Those boulders and stones collided with the path ahead of them, skipping and tumbling down the ridge as they slid violently downwards, piling upon themselves till the path hunter and stallion had been on was entirely blocked. Alexander's heartbeat heavily within his chest, his body filled with that adrenaline as he stared at the rocks ahead of him. What were the odds of that happening? That consideration no sooner filling his thoughts then the sound of hooves tugged at Alexander's attention. His oceanic irises turned upwards, even though Alexander knew well exactly who he would find on the ridge several yards above him. His lips pressed together in a hard frown, the King's eyes narrowing at the very sight of Khan and that smug simper upon his features. Oh, how he would enjoy wiping that smile from the man's face!!! The sudden presence of that pressing sound again was hardly a surprise to Alexander, the Hunter pressing his steed further forward though Frost hardly required the coaxing as the steed lunged forward and as close to those towering boulders as possible.

The Dark Hunter was hardly surprised by the presence of those rocks that slid down the face of the mountain at their rear. Oh no, he had already come to understand exactly what Khan had planned for their fate, even if Alexander was not yet willing to admit his defeat...here...on the side of a bloody mountain in fucking Mongolia! That inquiry upon Frost's mind was not one he bothered to answer, the stallion quickly coming to realize Khan's plan as that horrendous, deep, rumbling began anew, somewhere above them. Alexander strove to ignore that sound, his gaze frantically scanning his surroundings for something that could be utilized to aid in their escape. His very thoughts seemed to be traveling equally fast, dozens of scenarios playing in his mind as he contemplated every feasible option and the powers the pair had at their ready. Frost's own thoughts were little more than an annoyance as the steed's voice punctuated his efforts to consider some form of escape, the Dark Hunter already reaching to those god-like affinities. "Shut up." That declaration was hardly spoken aloud as his gaze turned down towards the ground, that soft hue of light already beginning to feather into existence around his physique. Defeat...death...oh how Alexander refused to accept either of these!

The declaration of jumping, however, was a suggestion the Hunter was quick to attempt to shut down. He had already considered, after all, both the survival rates of his stallion and himself. The King was unwilling to allow his mount to die such a distinctly painful death and yet, before those refuted words could leave his lips, Frost's whole physique tightened beneath him. Instinctually, Alexander knew Frost's intent, his hands tightening on the reins in some effort to dissuade the horse and yet, his effort fell strikingly short. In mere moments Frost threw himself out into the oblivion of nothingness - gravity quickly pulling them downwards as the pair plummetted to the floor of the valley. Alexander's breath caught in his throat, his blue-green eyes taking in the features of the quickly rushing ground as the first hint of genuine fear crept into the man's soul. It was only movement from the periphery of his vision that pulled his hypnotized gaze from his inevitable doom, his lips parting as his own affinity flared into action. Wings. Frost was growing wings!

Those beautiful, blessed appendages grew rapidly from Frost's shoulders, the very size of them all but amazing as the ivory plumage stretched greedily outwards for air. The wind so quickly caught them but mere feet above the ground, their once rapid descent a near upward jerk as they suddenly glided sideways. He could hear the sound of Frost's hooves scraping against the ground as those wings frantically beat in the narrowness of the valley. Alexander himself hardly had a moment to react before Frost's new appendage clipped the jagged side of the valley. In one near terrifying moment, the pair were sent falling all over again before Frost landed with a thud onto the earth. They were alive. Oh, Zeus, they were alive! He hardly had a moment to celebrate that realization, however, before Frost launched himself forward. Alexander's own physique moved far more instinctually at that moment, as Frost resorted to a series of frantic bucks, his wings flapping loudly at his sides as a result of that very movement.

The Dark Hunter hardly had to ask what had gotten into his mount at that precarious moment. The steed, after all, was acting very much like the horse he was. Horses, after all, were something that the ancient King new strikingly well. For several moments his hands merely tightly gripped onto the stallion as Frost launched himself airborne, the conqueror merely waiting for that very moment to move. It was unfortunate, however, that he was hardly given that opportunity before Frost's head jerked downwards, Alexander's own body near immediately flinging back, his back near colliding into Frost's own spine as the horse threw himself into a headstand. He could hardly help that ancient Greek cursing from leaving his lips, the maneuver hardly new and yet it so had the capability of unseating even the great Alexander if he was not careful, much less the possibility of being crushed under stallion himself if Frost's balance proved to be inadequate with the addition of the weight of those wings. Oh how utterly precarious that moment was before gravity once again took over, pulling Frost back to those four hooves.

It was in a moment of true desperateness that Alexander found himself attempting something truly dangerous, the man well aware he was giving up the control and comfort of his seat as he half threw himself forward and against the nape of the stallion. One hand dug fiercely into those ivory locks, the warlord momentarily thankful for his stallion's near-blindness as his other hand reached out and around the steed his palm pressed firmly against Frost's face, cutting off the steed's vision altogether. His very position put him entirely close to the stallion's ears, a fact that Alexander fully intended to utilize in some effort to calm his steed. "Rixon, róaðu þig. Vertu kyrr!" (Rixon, calm down. Be still!) He all but demanded of his stallion, those words rolling off his tongue in his steed's native language if only for the hope those familiar words might so punctuate the panic of the steed's mind. "Trust me, I will fix it, still ton flogeró mou epivítora." He transitioned flawlessly between English and his own beloved Greek, the King seeking any means to calm the stallion if only to give him some control of the frantic horse.