In a few days - a few weeks - Mauja would surely join the old unicorn in muttering about war, in cursing how it changed things, ripped lives and bodies apart. But yet, he did not know of the army coming to try and take his home away. Oh, but he was not a fool. He had always known that the promises of others were just as empty as his own, and it was just a matter of time until one or the other would break them. He held no grand illusions about unblemished honor in the ones around him, simply because such a description could not be appended to himself. To both herds had he said he held no interest in their ground and their people, and it had been nothing but smooth, effortless lies rushing out upon the winter wind of his lungs. His only regret would be that he had not been the first to turn back upon his word.

Sunlight, crisp and bleak this autumn, fell in slanted beams through trees which had shed most of their golden leaves. It created a soft carpet under his frosted hooves, leaving little noise or trace by which to mark his passage. A swish of his raven-decked tail, a shake of his head, breath steaming into a near-transparent cloud in front of his face. It was, after all, not that cold yet, but the mere promise of Frostfall had put the King in a good mood. His eyes sparkled in the sparse sunlight, his rugged coat thick in preparation, and every cloudless, crisp morning filled him with a deeply rooted sense of joy, of belonging. He was as much a creature of summer as a polar bear.

A clearing opened up ahead, and seeing no reason to stop, Mauja kept going on his path. Something white leaned against a tree, and if it was a hornless, he'd just shrug and be on his way; if not... The King's head tilted slightly before he came around the last trees obscuring his vision, and his gaze settled upon a remarkably tall white stallion. His body spoke of age but not yet the frailty of the ancients, eyes blue like a deep sky and some sort of branch or antler-like horn jutting from his forehead. Satisfied with what he saw, Mauja altered his path to approach the stranger, whickering a greeting just in case he'd not been seen. The last old horse he'd found - Beast - had been a rotten geezer and snapped at him when called grandfather, so he bridled his tongue. Besides, the sunken, shrunken appearance of the other was nothing at all like this stallion's.

"Greetings, and welcome to Helovia! It's a fine day, is it not?" A cheerful smile, warm joy lacing his voice, and Mauja stopped at what he decided was a respectful distance. "Have you perchance come here seeking a home?" Oh yes, always quick to the point. Otherwise someone else might come along and upend all his plans... something which Mauja found frustrating on good days, and absolutely horrendously tremendously fury-inducing on bad ones.

Fortunately, today was a good day.