The ~couple~ act gets an eyebrow raise from Frost, for all that he allowed a half-smile to split across his face, too much sharp analysis behind his expression to ever truly seem friendly. But they weren't after friendliness in the first place.

He leans back against the iron, considering. "I didn't drink any handouts," he says, seeing as they're sharing war stories, more or less. It's said in a tone; one that communicates, he never drinks handouts. "But fuck if it still didn't hit us where it hurt. I figure--" He gestures with his cigarette, stabbing the air with it. "--if these Candlelighters were after bloodshed, if they want us to be fuckin' ravenous animals, hey, I'm more than happy to give it to them. Personal like.

"What happened in Mafaton wasn't anything."