Mauja the unchanging masterpiece. His face could have been carved from stone, from the very hooves of the Foothills crafters. Kahlua was not good at reading faces anyways, but there was nothing to find upon his face. At first she had thought nothing of it, just assumed that his way was his way. But now, stopped here beneath the boughs of the trees, looking upon him in this moment of confusion, something pressed into the back of her mind. Was there more here than she was aware of? There always was, of course, but could she... but then it was gone. As soon as she had begun to think it, whatever it was, it disappeared from her brain forever. This was the way in which her brain worked, a shallow pool that overflowed with nothingness. She could afford some lessons from the spotted man. Perhaps some day he would offer her some, if they became friends. It certainly couldn't hurt.

Regardless, he seemed unimpressed by her knowing Paladin based solely upon the fact that he completely ignored her mentioning it. Oh well. She had tried. I barely knew him. Of course, Kahlua didn't question this in the slightest. Hadn't she gone wandering into the arms of a wolf to find a friend as well? Of course, not the wolf that existed in the Basin to the north. Rather, she had visited the Foothills, traipsing along their borders, trying her best to find Atka. He had never shown, but she had made a new friend. Yes, this was totally normal right now.

As the Frostheart began to tell the story of Torasin the Doctor (the only Moon Doctor Kahlua having known was Smoke), she noted that his ears fell back upon his head- the first real sign of emotion that had ever crossed his face in her presence. Her own twitched in response, mostly out of confusion, but they remained erect, taking in what he had to say. I'm the only one who knows what happened to him, he offered, and the simple girl wondered why he simply didn't tell everyone. In fact, she was about to offer it to him as a suggestion but he carried on and so she just listened.

“Oh, no, they're very nice,” she managed to slip in after he mentioned the herd mates wanting to talk to him. About this time, Hellena showed up and Kahlua smiled with a nod of her head. It was only the second time she had been able to meet the mysterious mare and she was terribly excited, until Mauja's final words registered in her head. They think I murdered him, Kahlua.

She was lucky that Hellena was there to pick up the conversation then, because all she could do was stare. Blue eyes were wide with fright, her face the polar opposite of Mauja's. She showed everything she was thinking or feeling. She was no secret keeper. So she did all she could, which was very little, teeth grinding against one another in confusion (not aggression) as she tried to sort out all the things she was feeling. It was very difficult. Impossible, even. Why would they think that? She bobbed her head a few times, still working, smoke almost pouring from her ears from the visible effort she was undergoing. But eventually she found herself, found her tongue, found her heart, and she shook her head.

What was she thinking, trying to condemn this stallion? For comfort, she looked to the skies, blue eyes searching for the white owl. I am hers. Mauja's words echoed in her head. How could he be cruel enough to kill. Had he showed her any unkindness? Not that she could think of. The only fright he had caused her was for her own feelings- about unicorns. He had been a perfect gentleman, a lonely stranger. She took a deep breath and looked back to the spotted king, adding on to what the misty mare had offered. “But if you know what happened why don't you just tell them? If... if you're innocent they would believe you, right?” Her eyes brightened with hope. Her herd was just. They would believe the truth when they heard it. She just knew it.