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

Aurelius fell silent at his approach, but gave him a smile. He returned it, briefly, kindness in his face; he might be one to silently ridicule his goat, but it was out of, well, love. Not that kind of love, but kinship-love. Y'know, no one messes with my brother but me? He, foolishly, trusted Aurelius to speak up if it ever bothered him, or if someone else bothered him. At the same time, he guessed the short stallion had his pride, too, but sometimes Mauja wanted to toss that concept off the edge. No one could do everything alone, even though the frosty King was certainly doing his best at it. He was torn about it; on one hand, he wanted to trust, to share that deep bond with some of his herd mates. On the other, trusting meant weakness, and if they should betray him, it would hurt all the deeper.

The bay mare, her eyes shining despite the destruction, came close enough to touch him - or was it the other way around? - and swept away a thin film of grime from his shoulder, baring a streak of startling white. Mauja smiled humorlessly for a moment, staring at it, before blinking. Warmth crept back into his eyes, replacing the void of bitterness, and he allowed himself a laugh at her gentle, teasing words. "Looks like it," he chuckled warmly. Lena, hm? She seemed a happy sort; too happy to hide darkness in her heart, but who knew? Kou was one happy mare too, and yet she held nothing but distaste for the other species, as it should be. The other mare, dark like thunder yet so liquid in her eyes, seemed more serene, demure even, like a cloud of rain on a fine summer's day, yet there was something beautiful in her eyes. He wondered about her past, how much agony she had felt and how much darkness she had witnessed, to look so at the world, while this other mare simply glowed, radiating joy. It seemed nearly simpleminded, but he thought he saw something sharp in her eyes, too.

"Pleasure's mine," he said with genuine warmth, and the attention shifted to the quiet, dark mare. He'd caught her earlier remark of wanting nicknames, a snatch of conversation on the wind, and now she was staring at Aurelius with pleading eyes. It tugged at his heart, this strange child (despite the obvious fact that she was grown, she felt like a child, but a dark one, with less innocence than Lena had) seeking to be saved by his herdmate - saved from giving her name, of being stared at when she answered them only with silence. Mauja allowed a heartbeat, two, three, several, to pass, then tilted his head again, something kind - fatherly, even - in his eyes, defying the natural chill of their color. "Don't worry," he murmured, taking half a step forward in an attempt to give her a reassuring muzzle-bump. He glanced at Lena; she was grown, too, but seemed so exude a youthful innocence, energetic and remarkably girly with her high-pitched giggles. This, however, was a child of the dark; he knew it not, but she'd been born and abandoned in a storm, nearly killed when not yet a day old, saved by her father and her mother's liegewoman. Of course, such a start in life did not foretell daisies and bunnies later on.

"Something to call you, hm?" he breathed the statement softly onto her velvet face, then took half a step backwards; he did not want to name her for all of them, for the name his heart had picked was relatively dark. He smiled, wryly, tasting it in his mouth but not speaking it aloud. In many ways it was similar to the name he'd given Deimos - myrkurdýr, and in truth they were similar in appearance, but his name had come unbidden to his tongue, slipping out once or twice on the first night he met him. This name... He blinked, snapping out of his thoughts. "Nicknames are such personal things, but I know what I will call you; I'd hate to color the others' choices by telling it..." A small smile played on his face; as long as they were family, the ruin of the Edge could be borne without drowning in it. "What say you to that we all think of something, and say our choices once all have picked?" He aimed the question at her, at the one his mind had dubbed Nóttbarn for the darkness he saw in her eyes, haunting her smiles.