He could feel his heart pick up its pace, his veins thrumming. This was the moment, the turning point, the balance shifting every so slightly. Either the foal would follow him, or reject him. Trust him, or distrust him. By no means would he give up if the latter came true, but his ears strained forward, something intense in his gaze as he surveyed the scrawny child. Every nerve taut, every sense alert, he saw the little muzzle extended and search the air, the invisible pull drawing them a little closer.. but he dared not let out the sigh of relief just yet — metaphorically, of course. Mauja's body betrayed little of the sharp attention beneath. Still without being tense, his breathing even and calm, but his eyes danced quickly, sometimes falling upon the milky waste of Druid's. Stammering words, and they were so much closer now. Was he succeeding? Was he drawing the child in with his calm, his acceptance, his assertion that everything would be fine? His expression changed, and Mauja was proud of himself that his breathing did not give his rapt attention away.

Then he said it, the magical word, barely audible. Acceptance, to follow, to try the fate Mauja offered. In the branches above Irma gave a mental snort and took flight, wings rustling the air. She'd get over it, and sent wry amusement after her. Predictably, she ignored him.

"You'll be alright now, son," he assured the colt in a calming voice. Grass rustled faintly underhoof as he took a fluid step forward to meet the colt, bringing his own dark muzzle out. Half a foot from Druid's face he exhaled warm air, to let the child know where he was, then sought to touch him, to bring his soft nose against his. "I'm here. Come, now." Moving slowly, taking care to not accidentally startle him, Mauja brought his pale body around to stand by Druid's, thinking that he could perhaps feel the heat radiate off him. Either he could take comfort from it, or just use it to know where he was. For a short moment he paused, looked at the trees around him. They had been left alone. The child was his, now, and he frowned slightly. The journey to the Basin would be cold and arduous, especially so for the malnourished child. He'd have to take it slow.. stop by the isthmus, see if he could find some decent grazing, let the child sleep, and then try to make it into the warmth of the Basin in one go.

And find him a new mother. Mauja nodded slightly to himself. It felt better with some sort of plan, even if it was a bit flimsy. Winter hadn't set in properly in the Steppe, as the days were still long and reasonably warm, but a faint layer of snow always covered it, and he'd seen a few snowfalls already. "Let's go home, Druid," he said gently, and started to walk slowly, away, into the future.