Beast
"Oh my stars and garters." Hank McCoy said, then took a step back, eyes widening in shock. He'd taken Jack Frost to be simply moving thermodynamics around. Not the incarnation of the hostility of a season. Assumptions. If one of his students had made it, he'd be scolding them right now. Fortunately, it was all salvageable. He just had to fall back on something.

"Leavenworth old boy, I don't suppose you can hold out a moment? I think I'm going to have to do something… drastic." Beast asks, judging the distance between Frost and the lake. Still too far. Well so much for tossing him in, and letting the spirit sort him out. But no matter, it wasn't his only recourse. Just the more elegant of solutions.

He glances around quickly, then spots the bag of guns Souske had provided. Perfect. Falling to all fours he makes a loping break for it, meaning to get armed and seeing how ice powers worked against some heavy ordnance.