but somewhere here in between the city walls of dyin' dreams

"What have you found me now?" he breathed, the faint sound of his voice turning into white smoke rising before his face—and even as his most trusted owl replied, her voice razors and infinite cold, Mauja stopped dead in his tracks.

A mare, Irma whispered in the back of his soul, chill sweeping through him once, but he couldn't focus—

He couldn't think—

Because he was standing in the most beautiful place he'd ever seen.

Snow covered the land, a blanket of perfect white disturbed only by life and wind; it lay across everything, cold, sharp crystals glittering when struck by the sunlight—frost laced every twig, every stone, everything that poked up above the white.

And the colors, they were perfect, clear and crisp but pale in the way only winter colors can be pale. The smoke of his breath rose before his face again, and something in his heart constricted. If only it was colder...

Move!

Diego barreled in from somewhere, a blur of amber and brown dipping in before his face; Mauja's head jerked up, and sharp talons just barely missed raking his sensitive muzzle.

"FUCK YOU!" he bellowed after the owl, who laughed, spun in the air, sunlight shimmering upon his feathers. Somewhere, he caught the faint traces of Irma's amusement. Mauja shook his head. Assholes.

But they had a point, and his long legs extended, pushing through the snow with the thoughtlessness born from long practice. He had grown up in a place of cold and snow. He had—

He swallowed. If he went down that path.. it would lead to too much thought. Too much introspection. Too many memories of pain and blood and—stop.

So, the mare Irma had found him promised to be a lovely distraction, and somehow he wasn't surprised to see Caleb already there, hungry for her horns. Mauja had already pegged him as an avid recruiter, because his scent was all over the fucking place. Though, this time, there was something in his eyes, something both hot and cold, iron-hard and sharp. Mauja wasn't sure he liked it, so he did the sensible thing and stopped looking.

The mare was of a similar build to Mauja, but much smaller, and of a different color—sterling and stellar, coated in the finest silver drape and accentuated with both black and white.

"Caleb," he greeted the stallion, offering him a nod of recognition. "Miss," nodding to her, knowing that Caleb had not caught her name yet because he'd just spoken his own greeting, asking for it. "Welcome to Helovia. I am Mauja, of the World's Edge."

man, I ain't changed, but I know I ain't the same