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

Even in times of recovery and regrowth, you sometimes need a change of scenery.

The Sun God had devastated parts of his home, but once everything had settled, Mauja had found out that the extent of damage wasn't as large as he had feared. The portion where the Sun had stood was little more than charred stumps and dry, cracked earth, and the destruction spread out in a gently fading circle until it was as if nothing had been touched - dry, leafless trees spread their twisted branches to the sky, brittle brown grass broke underneath the herd's hooves... The Edge would survive, but for years they'd bear the scar the Sun had left. Mauja knew that the damage would've been a lot worse if the Moon had not found it in her heart to rain upon them, quenching the flames and soothing their burnt skins with her gentle tears. It was a far cry from what his land needed to grow lush and healthy again, but it had been a ray of hope in the darkness - figuratively speaking. The world was hardly dark when the Sun was on a spree.

He'd left his wrecked home behind, trekked south by west as the sun slanted towards the horizon and the rays spread out their thick, warm carpet of orange. Motes danced in the dry air, and dust rose around his frosty hooves, glowing warmly in the light of the setting sun. To his right, the sheer cliffs of the Edge rose up, but in front of him the ocean stretched out. A cooling breeze, smelling of salt and gulls, rolled in from it, pushing at his thick mane and caressing his still-aching burns. The surface glittered where the sun struck it, blindingly bright still, and a few gulls had ventured out now that the worst heat of the day was over. Mauja sighed, kept walking, and soon enough the hard, dry earth gave way to soft sand. Waves rolled in, pulled back, rolled in again, and the sound mesmerized the Pale King. Without thinking he stepped into the arms of the water. It chilled his hooves, it chilled his legs, and not until he was covered in it nearly up to the back did he stop, and then he could only stare at the setting sun. Behind him the sky was purpling, but in front of him, it was golden and red, defiant even when setting; the water mirrored the warm shades, but at the far sides, it was cold in color.

He had always loved the moon, but never been fool enough to deny the beauty of sun and earth. This sunset reminded him of why. "Perhaps you need to be reminded, too," he told the disappearing star softly, and tried to flick his tail, as was his habit, but it merely slogged through the water before returning to rest upon its surface. The King smiled, mostly to himself, and took a few more steps. Water embraced him on every side now, the salt pushing into his stinging wounds, soothing and annoying his burnt skin at the same time - it felt good, to know that he was alive. The sand gave way to nothing, and without hesitating, his long pale legs began to kick beneath the surface, keeping him afloat and moving in the arms of the sea.

( open for anyone <3 )