i am the vanguard of your destruction

There was a short moment, a pause no longer than a heart beat, during which he regretted everything—following this half-wit's shadow into the belly of the earth. This was not Mauja's domain. He was a creature of the open air and the tangled shadows of night, a wolf moving over snow on silent paws; he hated being confined by these narrow, earthy tunnels, and he feared fire.

So his pale eyes traced the flickering motion of Gaucho's flames, and the glare of their light bit his sensitive retinas. If it wasn't for that, for the fact that his eyes were slits against the too-bright glow in these dark tunnels, he would've looked fearful, whites showing and all.

And then Gaucho turned. Mauja braced for impact.

But nothing happened.

Nothing happened. The Pegasus remained in his place, sides rising and falling with a gentle breath, hooves firmly grounded and those flames not rising into a storm coming for him. And in return, Mauja remained where he was, casually leaning against the tunnel wall, soft voice spilling out into the fire-bright space between them. As long as it was like this.. it was almost kind of cozy. The flames definitely took the edge off his restlessness.

He had many intricate, intimate memories of fire, and how it touched him, and ran along his skin, and crawled into his eyes, his ears, his throat... The scent of burnt hairs and charred meat, the sight of dried and cracked skin, fur burnt off—he was wary, but with the couple of yards between them, he was not worried. But it did sober him up a lot from his previous state of mind.

"You disappeared into the ocean."

One of Mauja's 'brows rose. It wasn't a question, nor did it sound like an accusation, more like a.. disappointed statement. (Nor did it answer his question, but whatever. He had him talking.) He shifted his weight off the wall, and took a single step forward—head still somewhat tilted, eyes gentle but still narrowed against the intrusive light. Fire fire fire... All that fire. Fire everywhere.

Fire in me, too.

Why fire, though? Why did everything revolve around that element? Why did everyone and their cousin have some kind of fire ability? Fire love? Fire fear? Fire craving? "I did," he agreed quietly. The ghosts of memories lingered in the tunnel with them, the events of many years ago playing out in the back of his mind—everything had gone wrong that night. He had actually failed his task. He had let Psyche (his heart stumbled in his chest) down.

And he had been made aware that Mirage was hunting for him.

Nothing had ever been the same since.

[ @[Gaucho] ]