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

[ backdated, takes place after this thread. ]

The sky was deepening to bruised purple and blue in the east, a few stars flaunting their brilliance and dotting the dusk sky. To the west, the sun was creeping below the horizon. Oranges flared as if trying to swallow the world, the undersides of the scattered clouds red as if splattered by celestial blood. These days, dusk was the time when Mauja released his pent-up breath and felt his body relax as the temperature sunk. Even this day had been unbearably hot, and it had begun to trouble him deeply that a God would so misuse his powers and take it out on the world like this. He would've loved to show the usually lush Helovia off to Aurelius, but it was impossible - everything was dried and wilting, the grass growing brown and tasteless, the trees dropping their leaves and slowly turning to twisted, stunted statues of despair... The Edge was no different, dry and dusty, the perfect image of a dying land. How long until this entire continent was uninhabitable? How long until the Sun tired of his revenge? Would he ever? Would he kill them all?

The land's state was the only thing that dampened his joy at the success of his random Threshold venture. The newest addition to the Edge herd was a rather peculiar sight. He was the shortest horse Mauja had ever met, and looked like some shaggy alpine goat's lost uncle, ram horns and all. Still, the King wasn't fool enough to ever say it to the pony's face, and his anatomy was very non-goat. It just amused the pale steed, but he'd gleaned a sharp tongue and quick mind under all the hair. It was true that he had a natural liking of tall horses, but hey, he'd not discriminate his own species. Even midgets could be useful, and this one seemed to possess intellect at least. Mauja turned his relatively large head around to peer at the new stallion as they entered the Edge forest. "I wish you could've seen it as it usually is, when the Sun isn't on a rampage," he mused quietly, moving between the skeletal trees. He missed the thickness of their foliage, how their dark crowns swayed in the sunset wind and how the fog coated everything like spirit pearls. At night the fog still came, but during daylight hours, it was burned away. Mauja sighed.

"It's much more majestic when alive. The trees are thick, the bushes too, the grazing's good and the birds care to sing." He shook his head, forelock flying around his frosty horn. "Now it looks like a desert-to-be. I hate it." The King drifted into a clearing, where he paused, head lifted to the darkening sky. Soon, it would come alive - as alive as it was these days. Soon his herd would wake from their heat-induced slumber and come out to play. These days, Mauja ruled a kingdom of the night. He drew in a deep breath of dry, arid air, and released it in a bellowing cry, announcing to the herd that there was a new stallion to meet, should they care to. And they ought to care. They were family now, after all, and Mauja wanted them to know each other, care for each other, protect each other. If they all did, they'd be unbreakable. With his hears alert, he expectantly listened and watched the forest for response, eager to see who would show up to be the first to greet the newcomer pseudo-goat - very fondly thought, of course. Aurelius was his pseudo-goat, and if anyone else tried to mock him for his looks... Well, no need to elaborate on the obvious, hm?

[ Aurelius first, then open! ]