Warmth. Warmth returned to the world after the crackling snap, after the unfortunate mare had torn the last of her bindings and broken free; Mauja's soul relaxed, and the dark, terrifying cold fell back beneath the surface. The sounds, of birds trilling, seemed muted out, the colors duller, less sharp. He blinked. There was allure in it, not only in the beauty of ice or the deep hunger, but in the strength of the world—in the clarity, the clearly etched edges. Had it always been like that? Or was it simply the flood of adrenaline it triggered? He didn't know. Couldn't really remember. Breathing softly he watched as the mare climbed out of the pool, fighting her way up the muddy bank, hope and salvation just in sight. What if she got stuck again? What if she slipped in the mud and fell back into the pool? Just how crazy wouldn't that be?

But, fortunately, she didn't. With some artless scrabbling she cleared the sloppy section and came up onto the safety of dry land, and turned to face him. Mauja remained in the knee-deep water, his hooves sucked down in the silty bottom, and tail floating like a flower by his hocks. At her rather enthusiastic thanking he chuckled gently, before shaking his head. What had he done? Filled something up, to the point where it shouldn't be full. But it was all melted now, just water in the water, and as she hobbled away a bit further he moved, too. The pond floor clung to his large hooves with a frenzy, trying to suck him down, and he grimaced as he lifted each foot high before setting it down again. Fortunately, it was only a couple of steps before he could ascend the bank as well; it made sucking noises as he cleared the slight slope and came up more or less beside her. Water flashed in the sunlight along his legs, fetlocks all muddied and brown, but he was better off than her. She was more brown than white right now, the dirty water running in oddly clear rivulets down her legs. Well, at least she was still alive, and quite happy to be so, and he wondered why it didn't feel better to save someone's life. It didn't feel special at all.

"I'm Mauja," he replied gently, looking over his shoulder at the pool for a moment. If she'd been trying to get away from him when crossing it, fate surely had another idea. Frowning slightly, he looked back at Brisa. Dappled sunlight filtered down through the branches—he guessed midday was a pretty ideal time to fall into a lake, when the sun was still out and able to dry you. "We should find an open clearing when you can dry out. Come on," because frankly, what was the point of saving someone if you just left them to their own devices after that? And so, with that, he set off at a slow pace, glancing briefly behind to make sure she came along.

[ I had a hard time getting this started/coming somewhere, but, meh. xP It turned out okay. ]