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

They were certainly a peculiar gathering, he noted with mild interest. A pegasus, a unicorn, and an equine. Two mares and one stallion. Two pale, one dark. All of them - well, maybe with the exception of the pegasus - a little crazy in their own ways. And one of them more than just "a little". It was intriguing, though, and with quiet fascination he watched the pale-red water run through her white fetlock, as if from a wound. Mauja tilted his head, watching the other mare - unaware of the hunger in October's gaze. "This is my first time coming to the pool." But not the first time in the forest? With open curiosity he studied her, something soft in his pale eyes. Raven feathers whispered behind his ears, stroking his neck gently. Ah; not in this part for long. It seemed she had been in another part, then, or simply spoke weirdly. The King gave a hushed laugh when she fired it back at him, but before he could answer the black girl chimed in. He turned his large head to look at her - she was so very awkward, sticking out like a leg at a strange angle. Had she been raised by other animals, or was something simply a little wrong in her head? Still, she was no idiot; she just made strange observations, and her hawk eyes were sharp. Very sharp, as if they wanted to cut everything they saw just to delight when it bled.

She claimed to live here, and he didn't doubt it; she looked shady enough to thrive beneath the thick boughs and she'd probably spent a lot of time staring at those strange cuts in the bark. Perhaps she knew what they were? "I can believe that," he told her with a wry little smile on his face, something soft in his eyes despite the fact that he was staring at a hornless. Mauja wasn't the type to shun them and make faces in their direction, but he didn't give one whit about them either. For the time being they had to live in peace, so why not make the best of it? Besides, she was interesting. In a way, she reminded him of Deimos. He cast a glance at Couth again. It felt a bit strange to stand between them like this, hard to look and address both of them at the same time, but it seemed to be his lot. One eye on one, the other on the other; diluted red dripped off October's zigzag lips, sending small ripples across the pool's surface when it fell back. "I've seldom been here before," he said as way of answering Couth's statement. "I live further north." On the Edge of the World. But for some reason he kept that to himself - for now.

Strangely enough, it was to October he turned with his next question - but not before he'd taken a few steps back, to not block the mares from each other's view as they stood clustered there by the mysterious pond. "You know all these marks on the trees?" He waved his frosty horn in the direction of the dark forest; they'd all been clawed at, strange inscriptions in their wounded bark. They had bled, but not died, for their crowns bore a heavy weight of leaves. The soil underfoot was still bound by their capable roots, water stored in it, for this corner thrived. "Do you know what's caused them?" And he hoped that whatever had, didn't mind nosy unicorns asking about it. It'd suck if he'd accidentally nvoked some angry demon and had the very darkness try to eat the three of them.