"Actually sir, ma powers are rather limited, at the moment." His eyes narrowed a fraction, cold and blue. At the beach Coris had not been at all interested in selling himself short, and now he claimed his powers were limited. Mauja stifled a growl that threatened to rumble out of his chest, waiting for a logical explanation to arise. Out of touch with his powers? The King himself belonged to the group that had not lost their powers upon entering Helovia, though he'd heard a little of it since. Perhaps that was what Coris had gone through? And the Moon was helping him out with it? Well well well... He released the faintest of sighs. The thickness of Coris' accent was fading, and even though it greatly annoyed him that the stallion kept switching between can't do much and this is what I can do, he kept his face straight. The bloke was hardly responsible for losing his powers, no? So why hadn't he told Mauja that he wasn't functional back on the beach? Oh, well. Shit happens. "I see," he merely said, giving nothing away as Ulrik picked up. Metal. Pelts.

Natural predators for trespassers... Now that was a very interesting thought. For a moment Mauja was silent, then he fixed his blue eyes on Ulrik's bronze ones. "Any chance of commissioning a pack of wolves from the pair of you, to help reduce the obnoxious trespassers we're suffering?" He said it with a lopsided little smile - it would be sweet, indeed, to have such a thing, and it would reduce the strain on Mauja's patience if trespassers suffered for their folly in a fairly natural manner. But, the issues of raw materials remained... His gaze remained on Ulrik's sturdy, tall body. "Metal. Do we have enough of it here, or should we task someone to, uh, gather? it elsewhere in Helovia? And," he turned to Coris, briefly looking at the leather adorning his gray body. "Don't skin our Warden wolf. I'd also prefer if you didn't hunt the Edge dry. I must admit I've never shared home with a skinner before, I have no idea in which quantities you need prey." There was no shame in admitting that he had not a single bloody clue what was going on with these two. The magic the Moon had given his herd - glass making - was of a fairly magical nature, though yet he'd never seen it in action. Zar'roc's glass bending power had melted the earth and drawn from it. But these - would Ulrik eventually bleed all the metal out of the ground, causing the cliffs to fall into the sea, and would Coris leave only horses in this forest? Mauja much enjoyed to dance with wolves in the moonlight, or watching the majestic stags patrol their areas - seeing rabbits scuttle underfoot, hearing the chatter and fast paws of squirrels, and the occasional run-in with grumpy badgers did wonders for the mood. He had no wish to transform his home into a place of emptiness. Mauja thrived upon life.