Poised there between the past and the present, Mauja saw the owl's shape grow grave. Faintly he inclined his head, acknowledging the defeat - the alien touch against his chest pulled at his attention, and the stronger, deeper yearning in his heart grew. He knew that he could not stay - that he wasn't meant to stay. He could, at least the owl had hinted as much, but that wasn't how it was meant to be. Fate had delivered him and his companion at different times, and made amends for that now. It would be simple courtesy to return to where he had come from.

But, had his companion already lives its life once? Would it remember that?
Only time would tell.

"Of course," he murmured. The portal danced in the corner of his eye, a play of light and so much more, nothing at all like the static around the owl. Something in him seemed - soft? No. No, not soft, but maybe gentle, understanding. Soothing. A faint, bitter laugh escaped him. Wasn't it always so, that the things he yearned to know where not meant for his mind to pick apart? He had learned to live with it, and this not-quite promise was more than any other thing he'd ever been given. So would he be the fool, and wake every time with the hopes of it being revealed, only to die a starved man? It was possible. "If fate wills it," he said with a shrug. "Good-bye then, winter one. I doubt I will ever forget this."

With a swish of his tail, he approached the portal again. Cold air nipped at his haunches, urging him on, back to his real world, heart heavy, torn both ways - yet he could not stay here, despite his curiosity. Briefly, he tossed a look over his shoulder at the lone tree again before stepping through. The same sickening sensation of having the world torn out from underneath your feet, the roll of your gut as there is no gravity, no up no down, and then he stood in the Edge once more, Orangemoon sunlight filtering in through the trees - warmer, brighter, than when he'd gone. The heaviest fog had been burned away, the dappled play of light and shadow normal - no portals forming at his touch. Around his neck, the ethereal chain remained, cool and foreign against his skin. Gently he arched his neck, bringing his muzzle in towards his chest, feeling the smooth curvature of the egg there.

It seemed that his companion would be reborn.

"At least I have you, whoever you are," he murmured, before walking forward with a sigh. One experience, a thousand questions. A single, beautiful day somewhen in the past.

For how long would it haunt him?