Mauja the FrostHeart
ice cold man watches earth die, eternal winter takes its reign

She allowed the subject to drop, and he was thankful - he didn't know how to act about it around her, and so in a sense he let his body lie to her, telling her stories of soft snow and warm lights, speaking nothing of the cruel ice that awaited beneath, treacherous like glacier cracks. But, she challenged his statement of faiths, and for the love of everything he couldn't figure out why. Never in his six and a half years had he heard of the Moon harming anyone, and certainly not on such a large scale. Nor about the Earth, for that matter, but he let her speak before giving his head a small shake. He could not agree with her sentiments, for drying up an entire realm and setting wildfires far outmatched any minor mischief the Gods had been up to before this drought. "No," he said in a quiet voice, watching the sea of clouds. "The Moon and Earth does not dry up the land, does not set wildfires, does not shriek about dominating the mortal realm. Good Gods should bear kindness towards anyone, but perhaps not extend boons to them." He gave a harsh half-laugh. "But even they are corrupt, I guess. No matter how much you dream of a pure land, it's unlikely to come to pass." He didn't want to live in a delusional world where he constantly deceived himself, but somewhere deep in his frosty heart was the yearning of such a place. A war-less place in which his kind could thrive.

Mauja's racism was largely founded in his love for his own kind, but over the years negative encounters with the other species had forged the second side of the same coin - he had come to dislike them and look down upon them, realizing his own blood to be superior, and at the same time he had learned to smile and hide the truth he knew, smile as if he was not better than them at all. A few he had even come to appreciate as individuals, irrationally wishing they had horns instead of dragons or wings, but when it came down to it, they were lesser, and had forgotten their place. The Edge's King did not mind the hornless as long as they stayed out of his path and didn't interfere with his business or his kind. Unfortunately, they did, and being a cold realist he knew that he was trapped; removing them completely would annihilate the risk of an uprising, but it might also cause the unicorns to forget what they are, and turn upon him, seeking his throne. Only the future would tell which path he was to walk down, the one of complete extermination, or the more balanced one. He didn't know himself which he would prefer.

He nodded and smiled softly at her, taking his blue eyes off the sky and onto her small form, her brilliant green gaze burning in the dark. Of course, his description of the Moon had been a jumbled attempt to retell the story of someone celestial, and it likely fallen flat on its face. If he sat down and thought about it maybe he could turn her into poetry, but mere, plain words? It was nearly like insulting her, and Mauja decided not to attempt it again. "I'm sure she'll come visit you one day," he said gently, not caring if it was an empty promise. If the Moon didn't fall from the sky or Aylin change her faith, likely the patron Goddess of the Edge would descend to see her. Also, if the filly realized the future that lay in following Mauja home, the chance of meeting her was increased. After all, the Moon called the Edge her own lands, but... Aylin had a family. He listened, watching Tallis with curious eyes; her mother thought much of the Foothills. Well, Mauja didn't. The Foothills, in his opinion, sucked. Their smell was enough to make him irritated. Inviting Aylin would be hard, since she'd probably want to stay to her own blood, and if there was one thing Mauja would not allow into his herd, it was an equine mare with an equine colt. Not only would they irk him with their presence, but Ulrik would skin him.

"But where do you want to go?" he asked, voice soft but eyes bright.