In the darkness he lurked behind evergreen boughs, sheltered and shielded from view; snowy white and midnight black he merged with the background, the irregularity of his spots breaking him up against the terrain. He was a ghost of snow and moonlight, bred for lands like these, yet he wondered if it was not cowardly to be able to hide so well, even from those he did not mean to hide from. He simply had no choice.

Blue eyes, bleached to white, were upturned, following the twisting dance of fire flickering in the sky; sheets of red, green, and blue arced across the heavens, sometimes slow, sometimes fast, at times disappearing only to appear in another place. It was mesmerizing, a display that could keep his mind occupied for hours until it faded either into dawn or nothing, and to watch it soothed the restlessness in his soul. Steady breaths steamed into the night, his cool body motionless; sitting upon one of the sturdy tree branches was Irma, wings snug against her body and her icy gaze flitting rapidly from one thing to the other. She was his guard while he let his mind wander the starry skies.

Movement caught her attention and they both grew still. Mauja couldn't see her, but knew that it was Ari, their single, remaining prisoner; the trees kept them apart, for now, but Irma was watching her.

He closed his eyes, and merged his vision with the owl's.

She seemed.. awed, by the meadow, by the cold flowers reflecting the color of the moon. Her face was serene, beautiful, in the pale wash of starlight, and suddenly her attention turned to the sky, where the northern lights still danced, watched by the bright moon. Words spilled softly from her mouth, and Irma's head turned ever so slightly, to catch them at the best angle. Behind the cover of trees, Mauja's head lowered with the faintest of sighs, thinking he knew all too well this Lady Athena spoke of. Once, it had been him, standing as close to the sky as he could and asking her what he was meant to do — Aylin had come to speak with him, telling him, subtly, that he was blind.

And now he wasn't anymore, but Ari still was. The moon was not one to be trusted. Once her reflection had laid across his eyes at night, but now they were clear and black. He was free, but the golden mare who spoke so softly of her loving nature was not. Perhaps it would be kinder to let her stay ignorant. After a moment she fell silent, but he waited, motionless, where he was, not wanting to disturb her lest she had more to spill to the distant moon. But no more words came, and Mauja breathed life into his still limbs, disentangled himself from the trees.. slipped through the gaps in them until he stood beside one, the meadow of flowers stretching out before him. His head was half-lowered, his body half in the shadows, but the cold moonlight glinted off the sharp tip of his horn.

"You are a beautiful creature, Ari," he said quietly, but the inherent strength in his voice would make it carry. Some part of him felt guilty at having heard the words she had spoken, but to leave quietly, or worse, be found standing behind the trees, wouldn't have made him feel well. In the tree, Irma neither said anything nor moved. "Far too beautiful to devote your life to someone like the moon." Gently he stepped away from the last tree, his frosted hooves finding an easy, assured path through the snow and grass, sometimes brushing a flower's stalk aside but never trampling any of them. The light from moon and stars fell upon his white hide, his edges gleaming softly; for all his ice, he was nothing but soft snow tonight. Further along its rim he halted, peering at her with curious eyes.