Striking mights and maybes even more

A useless thing called life

It's a biting cold again

It was like his words surprised her, and perhaps she was right in that; he hardly knew what he was talking about, after all, only that he wanted her to stop lying in the snow and asking for him to kill her. It wasn't exactly charming, and it was dangerous too. What if he'd done it? What if she'd not really wanted it? But bam, too late, she would've been dead. Pressing his ears against his neck his distressed gaze met hers, her muffled voice slipping into his brain like a hot knife flaying off his skin. "Y-you don't und-derst-tand do y-you? Have you n-never experienced some one break your heart?" The odd boyhood crush or two aside, his life had been quite devoid of love — at least in that way. Snö leaving had cut deeper than Psyche's departure, but some part of him had not felt broken, merely.. failed. It was not a love-break, just a father/daughter stupid thing. "No," he answered her honestly, his voice like a cold rock dropping into a pond. "I have not."

Was she slipping away, into some emotional coma? It was like she suddenly lost sight of the world and began ignoring him, but he was too stressed to analyze it. He just saw the faraway cast in her eyes and looked somewhere else, wishing a god would just descend and make everything alright or something. "Child. Children. I want a child." The murmur drifted up, soft as snow and barely audible, and his wandering attention snapped back to her along with his intense gaze. "You already have one," he said before he really knew it, his voice both gentle and confused, though part of him wondered if it was a child of his she wanted. How would that be different from Frost Fyre, her current filly? Mauja closed his eyes and breathed out heavily. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. Out with the stress. Breathe it out. Somewhere far above, he could feel the wind over wings, the sun on his back. He could see the world, the vast white, spread out below; the cold ripples on an icy ocean, and a forested clifftop in the distance. He could feel the fast beat of a heart so much smaller than his, the curious concern, as well as the what's the matter this time? attitude she tried to mask it with.

The sound of Leyra moving brought him back, and much to his surprise, she actually did as he told her and got up. Well. That was one step on the long road back home. Without thinking about it he jerked forward to support her, to let her catch her balance against him instead of fall down again. In the back of his mind, the curious Irma gave an owl's version of a snort and retreated again. "There's a good girl," he murmured soothingly, as much for his own benefit as hers. "There's no reason to be out here in the snow, let's go home.. you can rest there..." Maybe he should have a chat with her filly, see if he could beat some daughterly love into her. Or maybe not. He wasn't sure he could. Most of his interactions with Snö at that age resulted in horrible failures, and only served to make her upset. Better to just find Leyra a padded cave and dump her there to sleep it off. Yes. That would be a good idea. Blocking out his distress he nudged her encouragingly, and tried to get them both moving. Home.

How odd that word felt in his thoughts.
A warm valley was not what he dreamed of, when he heard it.