d'Artagnan's eyes glazed as he watched Mauja's reaction, not knowing whether to laugh or cry at the initial seriousness of his friend. By the Gods, if he plans on taking everything this seriously I don't care what damn ledge he gets chucked off yet, he was repaid with a smile he knew quite well and the world, briefly, was a fine place to be. Perhaps the bloodied bandit might have gone on to ask where the hell on earth or in space had he been, it wouldn't have been the first time he'd of asked that question, which led as to why on earth he bothered asking anyway. Maybe it was because he was Mauja, his closest friend, and although d'Artagnan didn't like to admit weaknesses like this, he actually did care about what had happened to him. Somewhere in his cast iron heart. However, his chance to ask such things never came as his mismatched eyes now laid on the source of his new interest.

She was slowly beginning to catch her breath, his gaze catching the colour of her eyes that painfully reminded him of Kou. Another problem he'd managed to create for himself. It wasn't like looking into Mauja's blue, there was a feminine scent about her and her bodice was lithe like the soul of his world. He thought about his Nurse and her words, his heart twisting causing his teeth to clench. Recently he'd gotten a decent hold on his 'mind', but with things happening how they were lately, those tentative strings were slowly melting away and the beast was beginning to crawl out of it's forced hibernation. He'd rather burn in hell than listen to Kou's disappointment in him again.

The shade swallowed and attempted to control himself as the onyx crowned spoke, his suddenly tortured pools flashing down to her chest rather than her eyes in order to push the thoughts of Kou away. His features becoming conflicted. "He is quite an enigma, but alas, he's more interested in ripping out the hearts of those bereft of horns." He offered her quite casually, as if the reason was a perfectly plausable one, which it was in d'Artagnan's world.

Nyx. He noted her name as his gaze drifted up to the soft grey of her nose, still not trusting himself to look into those eyes, as he fell silent and waited for Mauja. Who, for once, appeared to have swallowed his own tongue, as the mare bluntly asked for a name. d'Artagnan turned to look at his friend with a haunting gaze triggered from previous thoughts that lingered on his spotted features and spoke silent words. Say something or that ledge will do just fine.

Back on the path, the Nightshade's guard dutifully watched for any more oncoming visitors, attempting to take his mind off their location, wagging a little more happier now as he remembered Mauja's hairy face when he'd leant down. Like a throw back to past times, the hound had playfully stretched a clawless paw in attempt to carefully bat the Frostheart's face in familiar greeting. It had reminded Aramis of the days when his legs were shorter, the world was bigger and full of white fluffy feet.