She was cautious, but could he blame her? No — he'd probably act the same way if.. if.. something suddenly showed up and wasn't quite real. At least, he assumed he wasn't. Onni had treated him much like he was dead or something at first, or at least noticed something being off. Lowering his head somewhat he watched her through dark lashes, trying to seem as untroubled by his existence as possible, even though his heart kept hammering madly in his chest. What if.. what if... What if she was real? What if Onni had been real? What if the world still existed, just out of reach? It felt as if his heart kept shaking in his chest, his pulse a drum in his mind, as being pulled so close again tore open the wound in his mind. He did not want to be out here, alone, abandoned someplace in the whirl of time and space. When Irma's egg had been given him, he had known that he could not stay there despite his curiosity. Part of him had longed to explore that Steppe and the twisted tree, the mysterious owl, but whoever — whatever — had brought him there had known he would return. Out of love, of all things.

"My name is Vy." She had a soft voice, a soft tone, gentle and soothing — some wariness still held her back, and he wondered what he looked like. Did she see the darkness of doubts swallowing him, the desperation, frustration? Did she see the clash of hope and cynicism? He was stuck, wanting desperately to believe that there was a way back home, yet knowing that such thoughts were folly, madness. "I am Mauja," he responded to her query, his voice steady despite the staccato pace of his heart. For a moment he allowed his ears to fall back, and sighed. What was he, then? How could he tell her, when he didn't know himself? Giving his head a tilt he peered up into the sky, catching the flash of sunlight on white wings. She had been but a gray-feathered child when they had disappeared, and now she was fully fledged. She'd grown up in the land she came from; they had been separated by time, by accident somehow, yet he had not been under the impression they were to live here. If so, surely he would've been kept that day.

No. This was just some other trickery.

Slowly he allowed his gaze to fall, settling it on the hazy shape of Vy. He definitely didn't know her, didn't recognize her name. Mauja remembered most he met, though he wasn't sure how much of his memories from just before his departure had been obliterated by shock and stress. "I am.. a lost king," he finally said, and gave her another small smile; a simple curl of his lips, a flash of sunlight in his eyes. He was a creature of winter, but even the winter sun could warm.