So, a lot of this was based on chance, right? Life, and being there for things, was based on chance; even if you knew about an event, chances were you might miss it. You might trip on your way there and break your leg. Or maybe you were at the place it was supposed to happen, but then you were chased off by a bear, or the thing itself happened to happen elsewhere, and—

The point was just that if you wanted to keep up with your herd and increase the odds of you chancing upon these things, you had to move about. The more ground he covered, the more ground his owls covered, the greater his reach. The more he stood by the edge and stared out into the ocean, the shorter. Logical, right?

So it was that mixture of effort and chance that had him—yeah, duh, chancing upon Thor and some almost equally ungodly tall unicorn stallion. Was everyone growing up to land their withers at his height? It wasn't that Mauja minded it (like fuck, the less he felt special and outlandish, the better) so much, more like.. it was unusual? He'd grown sort of used to looming above others and suddenly being stuck with a bunch of guys his own size made him self-conscious in some blasted, backwards, ridiculous way.

But still, he didn't care about that. Either Thor was staging an insurrection (unlikely; despite his position he seemed the kind to stare you in the eye as he punched you in the face) or he'd brought a friend (not knowing him, Mauja couldn't decide if he was the kind to have friends or not) or he'd brought a newcomer (in which case he definitely felt like hugging him).

He just wasn't sure Thor was the hugging type, though.

So he settled for an approach that was subconsciously regal—just something about the way he moved, graceful and effortlessly, gliding over the cooling ground with the rays of sunlight falling over him like some heavenly indication that he was good and righteous and a fucking angel—and whatever he'd felt for these gilt rays turned sour.

They were wings, spreading behind him, out from him, away from him, falling upon the world like spears—but they were never his.

He shoved the thought away, tried to bury it with a whatever and a casual flick of his head, but some things lay deeper than we want to admit.. and this did.

Still, he had an itch to satisfy, blue eyes curious and black-rimmed ears tipped forward as he descended upon the duo. He hadn't caught any snatches of their conversation, and wouldn't either, unless they kept talking as he approached—which, frankly, wouldn't bother him in the slightest.

"Hello there," he said as he came closer, gaze roaming once over Thor to make sure he was unscathed, and then settling on the stranger. A tad shorter than himself, now that he was close, some buttery-brown shade he couldn't quite place, and crisscrossed with white stripes that reminded him all too much of Maren, the holy, scary priestess. Impressive antlers sat on his forehead. He was sturdy-looking, but as with Tembovu, Mauja wasn't inclined to pass judgment on visuals alone. "I am Mauja. Who may you be?"

And his tone was all curiosity, a light and gentle thing slipping from dark lips into the crisp autumn air between them, and in some way, despite the fact that he queried the stranger and the stranger alone, his pale eyes did their best to include Thor in the conversation, to let him know—well, let him know whatever, really. That it was appreciated. That he was more than welcome to butt in with wild, fantastical stories of the monsters they had battled in the Threshold and all the butterflies they had chased, and everything—because Mauja, now that he was Mauja again, did not judge. Mauja merely listened.

[ no real need to tag me but I won't bite if you do :) @[Thor] @[Rohan] also let me know when/if you want to be changed to World's Edge <3 ]

lord, the demands you're making-
help the monster on two feet
walk him down the hall, repeat
and when he's strong enough to stand alone
you'll notice what big teeth . . .