Go away he wants to spit at them, it's mine, leave, go, GO! Black-rimmed ears laid slicked against a thick, white neck, pale eyes narrowed—it's mine, each breath a sharp hiss through clenched nostrils. He didn't know why—why he cared—just that he did. That he had been first, to see the glow, the beautiful light trapped, and to hear its humming song plucking at his soul.. and now every idiot and his mother was crowding in, until Mauja thought his skull would burst and he would actually ram a spike through someone in pure frustration (and greed).

Until she came.

He almost forgot what he was doing.. almost let the magic slide out of his control.. stunned by her presence, by the rock-light tracing her outline with gold fingers and working its way like sun-flecks into her eyes.

And he forgot his anger—barely felt it ebb away, taking the awful, black greed with it too. Slowly, an almost shy smile curved his dark lips, before he let his gaze leave Kahlua. So maybe he wasn't angry anymore, but he didn't feel like prancing around like everbody's friend either. Grunting to himself he kept feeding the ice, silently admitting to himself that, yes, someone melting a path from the top-down would certainly make his task less draining, but it didn't mean that he had to like it.

That thing was still his, even if he didn't crave it as viciously as before.

Then a roar startled him.

His head snapped up and around, while the owls circled and cried out—and it was like falling head over heels to the ground, a multitude of impressions, a chaotic jumble, and lancing through it was a sudden, gut-wrenching fear.

Triangular fins, crowding around the water-bound colt (too far, he's too far to reach), the giant.. thing (it reminded him of the Magnar, the foes of his childhood) that came lumbering, running, swinging a small tree around, and the only thing he can think is please, not her, not her, not her.

He breaks his mind in two.

One feeds the ice—he's done that for years, it's a familiar task.
One calls upon fire—and two swans of pure flame burst into life, sweeping on burning wings towards the land-bound monster.

"Fjandi," he spat, torn between his desire to see the orb raised and his need to stop that thing.

[ one of these moments when I just went "damn, really would've needed life-grip for Erebos now"... true story, I'm that priest that actually pulls strangers up out of the water if they've fallen in xP /end of WoW analogy

Mauja is a grumpy git who keeps doing what he's doing, except he also sends a few fire-birds in the face of the Yeti-gorilla-thing, hoping to make it reconsider who it picked to mess with. not sure if he'll hit it because I don't know how close it is (his magic's range is 5ft but he doesn't know that :D). ]