Her bitterness was understandable, and for a moment he tried to imagine himself: glacial, regal, standing atop that hill with the others, infecting their sorrow with his cold, freezing the blood in their veins — or were those warm-blooded creatures too hot to every grow still? Pursed lips and sorrow.. if he had stood among them, would they still have scattered? And at the same time, he knew that he could never have been a silent spectator upon the hill, that the rush of his heart and its roaring in his ears would've demanded he go closer. As it was, there had been no need for him to intervene, but he knew that he could not have stood by and merely watched, or left without knowing if she'd stand again at the end of it all. Fools, fleeing before they knew the fate of their friends. "Perhaps they felt the need to go watch their flocks now that they saw that the big bad wolf was out prowling in the south," he replied, something vaguely scornful in his voice as he trailed her gaze to the crest upon which the aforementioned had gathered. "I happened to notice that their retreat coincided with my arrival." Cowards. If Mauja wanted to break into their lands and reclaim his throne, he'd not be out here, would he?

Tinek seemed to content with his late smile, and curled up upon the white platform of her hips. Thinking about it, the dragon had been awake for a long time, and his slow hop down south during the night had probably been more taxing than just an evenly paced flight would've been, and then the adrenaline, the thrill, of battle, weaving in and out.. the emotional drain. For a moment he watched the sleeping silver with a soft look, marveling at how the predator's sharp lines somehow smoothed out in sleep. Was she as weary as her bonded? He guessed so, for somehow the delicate princess facade she often put up was gone, tarnished, ripped down; she grunted, a most unladylike noise, followed by a grimace that wasn't exactly doll-face either. She spoke more of this Jackal, and he could understand her chagrin, to an extent; with how easily the Foothills had fallen, it had not been a fight, it had been a massacre. No leader had been there to hold the torch high, to inspire courage, honor and loyalty in the souls of his soldiers. Why had they fought at all? Could they not have assimilated, like Locket? Jackal had not deserved their blood.

"I didn't know you knew him," the stallion murmured, knowing that you changed as you grew up: those who were brave as colts were sometimes cowards as stallions, grasping at the power only to flee when the horns were aimed at their throats. The weak were surprisingly adept at becoming influential, to have others dependent on them. They fought in the shadows, afraid to have their blood shed, to let the sun seep into the cracks of their bodies.. as it did now, the rays glittering upon the coagulating droplets, and Mauja frowned as he looked over to where a large half-draft lay sprawled on his side with red staining his chest. Had there been casualties, after all?

She revealed that she had been in the Basin, and his bright eyes turned back to her, the sun striking their depths like snow. "You've seen it?" he asked in surprise, before his ears fell back. "Psyche was the one who earned it. I was.. indisposed," he finished lamely, not sure what else there was to say about it. He did not particularly enjoy dwelling on, or talking about, what he'd gone through in that other place, but as a matter of fact, he didn't know if Helovia had even taken note — or if they'd just assumed that the wintery hunter lurked amidst the snow, his coat blending in with sky and horizon so they never saw him as he stalked the northlands. It wouldn't surprise him if no one had known he was gone.

But then it all changed, they were close, close enough to touch. With a tremble in his soul, a ripple that did not reach the surface, he reached out, the plush skin of his muzzle leaning against her firm flesh and white fur. She smelled as she always had, lovely and cold, but with sweat and violence masking it, drowning out the elegance with something more savage. Blue eyes half-closed, lungs expanding to bring in the scent of her, to allow it to fill him up. She was silent, accepting of his touch, even turned to rest her cheek against his neck, horns pointing towards the sky in a bloody salute to the sun, the new regime. He forgot about it all — he forgot the worry, the scent of blood and warfare, the bitterness of their previous conversation, the betrayal of one Jackal and the glory of another. Lulled into comfort by her mere presence, but with one ear alert, awake, for he was her guardian, her shield, and he could not wholly let the world be forgotten while he stood vigil. Irma was his second sentinel, his second pair of eyes, but she lay dormant in their bond, spiraling upon rising morning winds and watching the shimmer of sunlight across Tinek's silver scales.

For how long they stood there, he did not know. He did not think to count the moments, the heartbeats, except to marvel at the faint shudder of her pulse against his sensitive neck, the softness of each exhaled breath tickling against his short fur. Time did not matter anymore, and he could've stood there forever, her shield from the prying sun and the aftermath of war, but perfect moments never last. They were forever doomed to become nothing but cherished memories, and his eyes opened fully when she drew back to look upon his face. Her hesitant voice slipped out from her maw, and for a moment, he went rigid as his dark pupils widened, shiver and chills going down his spine. That dream. That dream...

"You ran away from me," he murmured lightly, wondering if she would remember the same thing — or if she'd simply had a particularly vivid dream of her own, a different scenario, a different time. "And the roses followed you, glowing red in the darkness." The nightmare had been just around the bend, ghouls pushing against the golden shimmer of his shield, his aura, but they had never quite got through.. the voices of doubt had whispered in his head, and again, he found them in the shaded corners of his heart. Swallowing, he blocked them out, instead tilting his head to peer into her eyes.. wondering if she would remember the same thing, or not. Wondering, why it sent his heart reeling in his chest, hammering like thunder in its metal cage.