still a credit to your ruse, what a beautiful excuse
to never open up your eyes and see the things you lose

She was, perhaps, too old for such sentimentality—far from the first trembling steps of a narrow foal's body, filled out with muscle but still not. Fear was nothing you outgrew, anyway. His pounding heart was proof of that.

But with age comes pride, doesn't it? All talk about strength and courage, it got to you after a while. And you didn't hide in the shadows of strangers, in their careful touches, because at some point it crossed a line. At some point, it could just get all wrong. And no matter his intentions, it was all up to her reaction. But all she did was pull away after a moment, rubbing her wet cheek against a knee. A small, sad smile curved his lips. Snö was the same way—never wanting to admit to weakness, or feeling. Had she striven to be like him, a true creature of ice? Or was it simply because they had never protected her enough to make her feel safe around them? He wasn't sure. Would he ever know?

He let the thoughts go, unwillingly. Snö was his child, after all, but she wasn't here. Loudmouth was, trying to steady herself, find her strength and courage again. He didn't blame her, nor bother her. With that darkness just around the bend.. how could he? And how could he possibly think it justified to try and force her to admit the emotion she struggled so to hide? The answer was simple: he couldn't. The only right thing to do was to not acknowledge the shadows in her eyes. It was her choice what to show and not to show, and right now, she clearly wanted to be strong.

He respected that.

“I dunno, maybe you have some great idea up in your noodle or something, but I…” Up in his noodle? Whichever sorry parent had taught this feisty girl to talk? (Or rather, whichever sorry parent had not taught her..?) Still, despite its confusing qualities, it was kind of amusing: she was so raw and honest and blunt, all the things Mauja was not. In the face of it, it was hard to let the terror cling and seep through his veins; he lowered his head, shook it slowly. Here in the early, early sunlight, it was easy to.. forget? The enemies you forget are the ones which stab you in the back later. But just for a moment.. to breathe...

It was all crushed, horribly, snatched away from him with the same speed-ignition of memory, and fear. She stopped belittling her intelligence mid-sentence, froze again in that fearful, devastated posture. Mauja's head whipped around again, but the darkness was still nowhere to be seen. He looked back to her quizzically, but she was somewhere else. Somewhere else entirely. Where are you?

She wouldn't tell. Like a startled deer taking flight the youth spun on the spot and tore back towards the darkness. His heart leaped into thundering motion. "Wait!" he cried, pushing his trembling haunches into motion after her, Irma nearly falling off with the frenzy of his movement. "Don't go back!" It was obvious where she was heading, tracing their flight with a fervor maybe greater than when running for her life; she wasn't listening. She wasn't going to stop. He could probably outpace her, age lending him stamina and strength, but she was young and determined. Young, determined, and magical. "WAIT!" he cried again, but she wouldn't wait.

She was gone.

Mauja stopped where he was, threw his head back to the sky and screamed his wordless frustration at it.