Eerily quiet, yes - the birds had quieted their songs, smothered their signs of life, as if in fear, as if a giant dragon had flown through the sky and cast its shadow across the land. The forest watched, but was watched in return, too. Mauja had no misconceptions about many eyes, both seen and unseen, sticking onto his back as he confidently swept through the healing trees, a chain of cool electricity looped around his neck, an egg resting against his chest. No mist swirled to mark his passage as it did in his home, but he did not need its added effect to appear ethereal: graceful, floating. Frost-covered hooves lifted off the ground, slipped across its browning surface, settled down again, a soft, thudding whisper and a shallow indent marking the king's passage. Today, late autumn light fell across the threshold forest, creating a dappled pattern of shadows. There was little heat in the pale sunbeams, only the cool clarity of the colder seasons, and thus the King felt no need to hide in the shadows. Instead, he moved in the open, sunlight glittering on his spiraled horn.

In many ways, it was correct that the newcomer felt observed - the forest always watched, but a set of mortal eyes happened to do it now, too. Cold and steadfast, blinking solemnly, Mauja halted a few feet away, skull tilted to the side. It was not every day that his wandering feet gave him results, but today seemed to be such a day. An ashen shade of gray, the stallion was tall, regal, slimmer than Mauja. A few streaks of red accentuated the gray, such an odd reminder of Ophelia that it made his mouth quirk. Bittersweet memories.

The thing which kept him there, instead of allowing him to sweep on, was the horn. Red and regal it jutted from his forehead, a display of his heritage, and Mauja always sought bodies to strengthen his herd. And in these bitter times of need, with winter around the corner, he would hardly deny anyone of pure blood. And so the King slipped a graceful smile onto his face and moved forth again, to where he was more easily seen.

"Welcome to Helovia, stranger," his clear voice called out, easily cutting through the autumn air. Sparse warmth played over his features, in the depths of his icy eyes, nestling itself around his voice. "Do you seek a home?"

( Woah, sorry. xD This post was pretty awful! :/ )