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

If he had known the loyalty he commanded in d'Artagnan, he would've been honored and moved - as it was, the only thing he knew was that they had a budding relationship, and that the Doctor was a very valuable resource, one he would protect even at very high costs. As often, the stallion surprised him with his sincerity. Among his own kind and those he seemed to trust moderately d'Artagnan opened up in a way Mauja hadn't thought possible - it had been a pleasant surprise to find out, though, and with such a mind and heart... He was a prized asset, and with the strange pride he'd only known existed after becoming a leader did he watch his eyes brighten when landing upon Kou, optimism and some hidden sort of - gratitude? - in his eyes. Some were touchy about having their helpers handed to them, some appreciated it. This meeting seemed to have gone well so far, and it definitely pleased him. Kou was eager, and d'Artagnan was a well of useful knowledge. It'd be such a shame if something happened to him without him having passed on at least a fraction of his extensive knowledge.

Bemused, he pondered telling d'Artagnan that he was the best when it came to this, so such a promise of teaching would create something amazing, but he held the compliment back for now. He was eager to see what they would come up with, and nodded thoughtfully at Kou's question. d'Artagnan chimed in about the Throat, and Mauja allowed one 'brow to rise. So, the Doctor had been the one to haul his self across the face of Helovia and into the Throat? When he wanted to, he could be as smooth as Mauja, but he had less political chains weighing him down and chaining him to such behavior - it was possible he'd been less than nice to Azzuen. The warrior had seemed capable though, so he got nothing along the lines of pity from the Edge King. He smiled, though, and gave a huffed laughter. The Throat was ridiculously hot during this Tallsun, and knowing that the Doctor shared his sentiments when it came to heat, Mauja was reluctant to chuck him and Kou off to there. The Foothills would be better - he perked his ears at the mention of Seiren. She'd been there? Met herd members? And not reported back? Shame on her! Though, his rebuke was more playful than serious, and he put it down to either nothing of import to report, or mare quirkiness. You never knew with the ladies.

He hummed a thoughtful agreement and made a mental note to find Seiren and ask her what she'd found over there, but then pondered where to send them in silence. The Throat naturally belonged to the Sun God, but it was hot as hell and ugly - the Foothills he'd been in contact with longer than the Pegasus, so it would be easier to establish their reputation of helpful healers there. "I think," he began, looking from Kou to d'Art. "You could start with the Foothills. Introduce yourself, establish the business, see if you can help their Healer with growing a nasty plant or two, maybe 'check up' on their herd members. Unless you find a roaring fanatic and can get away with it, stick to honest healing and minor mischief. Much as I hate it, we have to go slow with this if we are to avoid suspicion, and if the Sun keeps this up I might go to all-out war against his followers anyway. I don't need suspicion to fall on the Plague too." The last was muttered, mostly, and he was thankful for the fact that night still came around after the sun set each day. If it didn't.. that one-way walk off the Edge would become quite alluring.