There was little doubt within Frost's mind that Alexander found his initial explanation of the night's events to be....unsatisfactory. For a man who said so relatively little, Alexander was nothing short of apt when it came to communicating through merely facial expressions alone. The single raise of the Hunter's eye so prompted Frost's tail to flick up at his flanks in a moment of....displeasure as he was veritably forced to continue that story with those additional details. Khan's stallion, after all, had not broken that tether merely for the purpose of fighting him. Rather, the edition of a mare, one who managed to captivate both the Dun and himself had been the cause of that scuffle. Frost paused in that tale once more as Alexander finished the final strap of the saddle. The towering war horse, for very near the first time, lowered his head obediently for that bridle to be fitted in place and the bit slipped over his tongue. Frost had become almost....used to that cold steel between his teeth. Any unpleasantness he had felt from that bit long since having passed as he attempted to appease Alexander, at least a little. After all, there was more of that story to offer. The equine violet gaze met his companions near levelly as Alexander adjusted that bridle and Frost continued with the events of the evening. The mare who had been the cause of that fight, after all, had not been a mere wild mare but rather- a Were like himself. One who had seen them take flight that previous day. Alexander's features shifted to a look near pensive. The macedonian's gaze, in turn, shifted toward the outskirts of the camp as if contemplating the possibility of Frost's tale. Alexander, it seemed, was willing to accept that truth- at least until Frost's very mention of that final and most potent detail. That mare had been a unicorn.

How readily Alexander's look of contemplation seemed to shift to one of open skepticism- much as Frost had anticipated. It was, after all, nothing short of ludicrous to even suggest something so ridiculous and yet the stallion was nothing short of certain of what he had seen. That mare, for all her bravado, had hardly appeared as if she were lying. Indeed, it had appeared almost as if she had resented the loneliness she found in her species. She had been nothing short of...incredible. The equine's utterance of that final word was spoken near wistfully to Alexander's mind alone. That singular description prompted the Hunter's eye to raise once more as he queried that very choice of adjective. Whatever Alexander had been about to say, however, was cut distinctly short by the near wild snorting and squealing of Khan's own stallion. The wound from Frost's teeth was nothing short of well placed. The Dun's withers, right where that saddle sat, were already bleeding once more. That saddle sure to rub and irritate that wound all day long while that bite Frost himself has received was, fortunately, placed lower upon his chest and out of the way of any strap or harness. There was every chance Khan's stallion might yet be deemed unfit to race- at least if the vampire could not manage to find extra padding for that wound or convince the Dun to take the saddle once more. The irritation on the vampire's features was nothing short of clear as those Mongolian cuss words fell from his lips.

Alexander's head simply shook once more as the pair watched on, before his companion's hand reached to settle upon the nape of his neck. The gesture was almost affectionate and one Frost had become wholly willing to accept if not enjoy. Even if he so rarely uttered such a thing aloud. A soft, contended breath momentarily left the stallion's nose before Alexander's call for that puppy brought the small creature racing back towards them. Frost's ears were quick to pin backwards in disdain. His thoughts upon that animal were still strikingly clear and yet, for now at least, he made no effort to prevent his rider from mounting- even with that puppy in his arms. It was Frost's very query of whether or not Alexander believed him, however, that seemed to see the hunter pause at his side. Frost's head shifted to angle backward, his good eye resting upon his companion as Alexander insisted he believed he had met another Were-horse. One with the ability for teleportation and a skill for illusion that rivalled Frost's own near flawless talent. The age-old Hunter, after all, had apparently neither heard of nor seen any such creature in his impossibly long life. Rather, Alexander was far more concerned about what she intended to do with that knowledge of Frost's wings.

"Alex, I-"

Those words of protest were momentarily halted once more as the sounds of that race about to begin again prompted the equine to pause and allow Alexander to swing up and into that saddle. Khan, for now, still failed to convince his mount to take that saddle. The Mongolian, for today at least, would be starting well and truly last. Frost's own heavy, feathered feet were quick to carry them to that starting line. Each rider and horse in turn anxiously awaited that start. It was the chorus of several watches and their alarms that signalled the beginning of that race. A small group of lighter, swifter horses flew from that starting line like the wind itself and yet Frost knew already that their stamina would hardly last. Their riders were forced to attempt to get as far ahead as they could while that speed lasted. Those thoroughbred's, especially, would be dragging their hooves by the end of the day. Frost's own heavier frame launched forward, the stallion quick to find an even, sweeping canter, his long, wide strays effortlessly eating away at the ground as he did. The trio of horse, dog and rider settling into fourth place. It was not until those other riders had fanned out, the group once more relatively alone, that Frost allowed his words to find his companion again.

"She will not say anything about my wings, Alex. The mare that is. I did not show them to her or confirm I had them at all. She herself admitted she was hardly sure it was me she saw or another. I asked her why she was so intrigued by them to begin with."

Frost's canter slowed back to that ground covering, swift trot. The draft stallion was capable of keeping up that pace for hours one end as the plains around them swept away in every direction. Little save the sound of his hooves, once more, filling in that silence.

"She was merely looking for someone as....unique as herself. She really was a unicorn, Alex. It was no illusion. I can nearly always sense other illusionists. She was not using any kind of power."

How certain he was Alexander still failed to believe him. There was, after all, the possibility that she was a more powerful illusionist than even himself and yet how certain Frost was he would have still held some awareness of her power at play. That silence continued for several more moments, little save the sound of Frost's hooves echoed once more before the equine's words pressed to his rider's mind again.

"I read a book about you once. History says you once cried because after conquering most of Asia-Minor, you felt there were no more worlds left to conquer. You believed, like so many did, that the world ended with the Aegean sea. You believed no other continents existed- because you had never seen them. It made them no less real, Alexander. For the first thirty or so years of your life you thought you had seen the entire world. You were wrong- and you are wrong about this."

Those very words, he knew, were nothing short of...potent. To accuse Alexander of being wrong was so hardly a notion the equine took lightly. Precious few ever seemed near bold enough to suggest Alexander might ever be wrong and, admittedly, the hunter never was. Yet, this time, Frost himself was....certain. So very certain. It had not all been an elaborate ruse, had it?

How very certain he was in turn that they might be inclined to argue about this for days.