In all honesty, it would've worried him if d'Artagnan hadn't reacted in some way to his words — this laughter was more like the Doctor he knew, devoid of the bitterness and self-loathing they'd both taken a plunge in, but he knew that they were not ashore yet. While most of their thoughts had been shared, purged like infection from a wound, the wound itself remain and Mauja was fairly certain they were not to heal tonight. It took time before these things cleaned, the incisions left behind by rusty daggers punched into supple flesh. Head swaying to the rhythm of his easy walk his eyes remained on Aramis, capering upon the path ahead of them. Had he been that carefree in his own youth? As untroubled by the world around him, merely curious about what it held? Some part of him thought he had been, but then again, he was not so certain. The north was a harsh place to grow up in, and wander away on what seemed a peaceful, sunny day and you might find yourself frozen solid in a drift when the blizzards hit. While he couldn't honestly recall that time of his life to know with certainty, he had a feeling the foals had been kept on a tight leash for more reasons than one.

His thoughts churned beneath the white bone of his cranium, listening to d'Artagnan as he spoke of Gods; he'd been told of this Time God but had never seen, nor met him (as far as he knew; obviously, he was wrong in this). Who he was remained to be seen, but Mauja couldn't help but think of a certain Aylin, moon-child, speaking of the deity she loved yet thought capable of wicked things. Like a fool he said he'd thought she rewarded her followers and did not so cruelly punish her enemies — and in half a sense, that was true. She had rewarded some followers, and punished others, the bitterness of which still haunted the walking pair. Aside from the unknown Time, Earth was the only one Mauja held no grudge against, but was it something that time would change? Perhaps.

The acerbic words about Mirage drew a bitter laugh from his mouth. "Perhaps I will not fail by underestimating my foes, but by overestimating them," he offered with a grin that was mocking, both himself and his enemies. But, what the Doctor said was truth, and while he still despised the Qian for their heinous ways, it felt good to have some kind of reason, even if the reason in and of itself was a rather depressing one. "The problem with Gods is that if they get angry, they can just incinerate us on the spot. But, I guess you're right — by overcoming these weaknesses within ourselves our minds grow stronger, and we will be more likely to survive their.. taunting." He gave his head a shake, almost missing d'Artagnan's gesture; he caught it in time, however, and let his 'brows rise up. What now? The Doctor truly seemed pleased by something, and soon Mauja understood what. They were close to his cave.. the cave no one should enter without permission, lest something toxic lay fuming in the corner. A crooked grin curled his lips; for a moment it felt almost like old times, the faint traces of his usual paranoia drifting up towards the surface.. what if, what if...

Am I not past this? Without betraying a single trace of his thoughts, he watched d'Artagnan for a moment — recalling his smile, his tale, the things he had shared, willingly, with Mauja.. things he would not speak lightly of. That even the old wariness came back to life did their friendship injustice, and feeling like maybe he was heading to something new, he ruthlessly quashed it beneath a mental hoof. To hell with paranoia; raise your glass to trust and hope its contents are harmless.

"Why not?" he replied, his crooked grin growing more lopsided. "Just hope my constitution matches yours, I'd rather not prove my weakness by dying of that which you can handle." A bark of a laugh followed the words, and he slowed for a few steps to let the Red man take the lead, before nudging his hip in passing. "Lead on, and make sure I don't remember this later." Was it weakness, to do this? Or was it just some of their old, I-don't-give-a-damn coming back to life? Perhaps a little bit of both, but beneath it all, he found that he genuinely had enjoyed this — would enjoy this, spending time alone with his friend.. someone he could trust.

Whether or not he'd recall the feeling tomorrow remained to be seen.