Frost had always been competitive by nature. The towering stallion, while prone to quietness and indeed a sort of aloofness that prompted most to consider him unfriendly, was nothing short of determined when it came to proving himself at a task others deemed him unsuitable for or incapable off. His sheer size within his equine form had prompted far more then one comment or secretive snicker among those other riders. Frost, if nothing else, was determined to prove he was not only capable of finishing that race but beating their sleek thoroughbreds, exotic arabiens and hardy ponies. The pale stallion stood politely still as Alexander saw to fitting that saddle, bridle and saddle bags back into place. His impatience however was surely palpable as he queried how far behind they likely were. Their unintentional detour, even if it had resulted in his discovery of those magnificent wings, had put them hours and kilometers behind. They had, surely, still managed to finish ahead of those riders forced to go around various flooded rivers along the way and yet even the middle of the pack was....displeasing. All that mattered, Frost was certain, was how far they were from the leader- whoever that might be. Alexander insistence they were only allowed to ride during certain hours prompted a scowl to the equines features. Surely no one would know if they went a few hours extra? Then again, that GPS was sure to broadcast their still moving condition if they failed to stop. That little device sure to already display...unusual activity on their parts. Perhaps, this time, they were better to follow those rules. A soft snort of disdain pressed from the stallions nostrils at his own internal considerations, his tail flicking to lash at his flanks as Alexander finished the last of that packing.

Frost paused only long enough to lift his hoof upward, offering Alexander that step, the Hunter so barely having settled within that saddle before Frost launched forward and into that canter. His wide ground covering stride ate away at the earth. For all the rain they had suffered yesterday, the sky remained gloriously blue today, the earth already beginning to dry out as Frost's un-shod hooves thudded dully in rhythmic succession across the plains. The open mongolian plains provided a near uninterrupted view in every direction with nothing but tussock grass and the occasional sparse tree or distant mountain to decorate the otherwise harsh landscape. That view, even Frost was willing to admit, held a certain appeal. His equine form...relished in that space. His pace near unintentionally quickened with that desire to run and make use of the open plateau. Yet- that open vastness prompted another thought within the stallions mind. They were alone. Entirely so. They could see no one, hear no one, smell no one. If anyone had passed by with any sort of recentness their horses' hoofprints had likely been washed away and yet with how open that plain was a rider would surely still be visible- even if they were kilometers ahead. For several hours the pair continued, each content to his own thoughts. Frost, for once, so wordlessly inclined to obey Alexander's soft requests for change in pace or speed as they came. It was not until several hours of that same nothingness that the stallion finally queried whether or not they were going the right way. Surely they should have met someone by now?

Alexander shifted within the saddle, the Hunter reaching for that GPS. It took several moments of fiddling. Alexander, as before, seemingly struggling within that small, modern device before announcing they were, in fact, only fifty more kilometers from the checkpoint. One likely to have other riders at it. That they were not hopelessly last was seemingly enough to prompt Frost to surge forward once more. The heavy draft picking up speed yet again in a push for those fifty needed kilometers. The pair fell back into a comfortable, companionable silence as Frost's even, rhythmic pace took them closer and closer to their destination. It was not until several hours later that the sight of...something on the horizon prompted the stallion to slow ever so slightly. Yurts. A small community of them. They had found a village of some kind. One belonging to the local, nomadic Mongolian people. They too, it seemed, had been equally spotted as they approached. Alexander's soft tug on the reins prompted Frost to slow further still as a gaggle of children rushed excitedly forward from that camp. The sight of Frost, seemingly, coaxing a great deal of bewildered awe and excitement from the group. Frost, by far, the largest horse any of them had ever seen. Their weedy Mongolian horses hardly reached Frost's shoulders.

Just what those children were shouting towards him Frost hardly knew and yet it hardly sounded...flattering. His ears pinned backward in displeasure, tat small act alone sending several children scuttling back from him. Hmm. They knew horses, it seemed, those children having learned well enough to be respectful of a stallions space. His query of just what they were saying was met with Alexander's own insistence to hush. How tempting it was to arch his back ever so slightly as if he intended to buck. Frost, for now at least, restraining himself from such things as he slowed to a walk. The equine merely content to eye that gathering crowd warily as Alexander offered them candy and cigarettes in exchange for food and that skin of mare's milk. Hmmm. The Hunter had come prepared then. Alexander's mongolian near flawless.

"What are you saying to them?"

Frost was certain whatever he had said to those children had been about him, that laughter it prompted only furthering the equines suspicion. The adults were nothing short of grateful for that trade the Hunter offered. Alexander managed to engage several in conversation as the children milled excitedly around them. Two young boys, bolder than the rest, daring to point to Frost with a clear question. Whatever Alexander uttered in response seemed to embolden the boys further as they come forward to rest tiny hands agianst Frosts legs and shoulder- the pair so apparently having asked to pet him. Alexanders tightening grip on the reins an evident reminder that the expected Frost to allow it.

"The children i hardly mind, if that one comes anywhere near me however I will bite him."

Frosts head tossed loosely towards one distinctly elderly Mongolian man whose love of cigarettes and notoriously poor dental hygiene had seen most of his teeth fall out. The stench of smoke around him near cloying. With those gifts exchanged and information gathered Alexander finally allowed Frost to return to that trot as they departed the 'town'. The children ran eagerly after them, waving brightly. Such odd people. Alexander was content to nibble upon several of those local delicacies he had traded for as the pair continued on.

"Did you save any of that candy for me?"

If Alexander was allowed to snack along the way then why wasn;t he? Frost's sweet tooth was nothing short of undeniable. Surely the hunter had not given all that candy away had he? In the very least Alexander had managed to learn that they were not the first group to pass through that town. They were, slowly, catching the rest of those riders. It was only a few short hours later that the pair reached that check point. The vets that manned it were quick to examine Frost, that health care team offering Alexander that same check before the pair were given permission to continue. Fresh hoofprints and the scent of other horses and riders at last lingered in the wind. Tonight, surely, they would make it to a base camp. Another hour passed, the afternoon pressing on, those plains remaining as empty and open as always. Frost had become near accustomed to the sound of little more than the wind and Alexander's quiet breathing. So much so that the wound whimpering that pierced the air was almost jarring. Frost's heavy hooves slowed once more, his ears swiveling atop his head in curiosity of that sound. Alexander too, it seemed, was equally perplexed by it. The hunter insisting whatever it was existed to their right near the river. Alexander's heel pressed to the stallion's side, seeking to turn him toward that river. Really, Frost supposed, they would lose little time by examining whatever it was.

Frost strode purposefully towards that river with its high banks then. That whimpering only became louder and louder the closer they got. It was, surely, some sort of animal. It was with no small sense of wariness that Frost peered near curiously down into that river in search of whatever was making that sound- only to eye a ball of brown and black muddied fur that seemed to have fallen down that river bank and struggled vainly to get back up, its paws scrambled useless in that mud before it tumbled back down and into the shallow water again. The scent of wet dog was....undeniable.

"It's a puppy."

Frost words held a distinct note of apathy. The equine was clearly unimpressed with the Mongolian Mastiff pup that had (stupidly Frost decided) fallen down the bank from which it could not get out. Its once fluffy fur was rapidly becoming sodden with its efforts. Frost's snort of disdain seemed to attract its attention then, the large puppy freezing in place, eyeing the pair watchfully before bounding over to scrabble at the bank below them. Its cries reached a near fever pitch in its desperate bid for help. Frost's ears only further flattened.

"Pull the silly creature out and then leave it. It can find its way home."

That there was no 'home' for miles upon miles clearly failed to move the equine. Frost apparently determined to leave the creature to its fate, more or less. He had seen several of those dogs fully grown at the last village they had passed. Those enormous mastiffs were...beyond any dog he had ever seen before. The Mongolian people seemed to worship them, Bankhr, they called them- though why, Frost hardly knew. They looked akin to bears beneath those layers of fur. The puppy was sure to grow up to be much the same.