He wasn't sure why he had told her everything — why it had felt important to make her understand, why he found the Moon unworthy of her. Unworthy of anyone. She had abandoned Mesec, simply birthed him among the racist unicorns and left him to fend for himself. She had abandoned d'Artagnan with a hybrid child, and Mauja thought he could understand the Doctor's feelings, those two forces pulling in two direction: the deep loyalty they had all felt to her in the Edge, and the bitterness at her betrayal. After all, if they had not cared, they would not have been bitter, would they? Still, it had been easier for him to try and sever the bond, harder for his red friend, who had a physical link to her still.

As he spoke, he watched her. There were old aches lurking beneath the smooth cover of his voice, a sense of age-old tiredness clouding his pale eyes, something he felt in the shadow of each heartbeat, like a catch in his throat when he breathed in. He was tired — tired, of everything, as if something in the past had broken his resolve. He felt ancient, like some creature from another era, something old and derelict.. as if he'd lost his vigor, as if he was too old to carry out the path he'd laid before his feet. At the end of his explanation, when Athena was silent, he sighed, his tail stirring listlessly against his hocks. It wasn't the first time he felt like laying down and going to sleep in the snow, and he knew that it would pass, but with it always came the grumbled thought: why can't the world just lay down at my feet? For I am too tired to conquer it. Of course, it wouldn't happen, and he let his gaze go to the lights, trailing their dance.

The night was silent, yet it was as if he could almost hear her mind working away, digesting all the things he had said. Don't listen to bitter old men, make your own way in the world; but the words couldn't leave his lips, remained behind them, locked away below the ice. Was it childish, to turn upon his former deity, and want no one to follow her? For all to see her for the cruel mare she was? Perhaps — either it was that, or noble.

He could've laughed.

"It’s…hard for me to think of what to say…” For a moment longer, Mauja's blue eyes remained upon the sky, then he let them fall again, to the little golden mare he'd broken with his bitter tale. Was it cruel, or kind, to open her eyes in this manner? Some part of him felt no guilt — I only told her the truth — but another part felt ashamed of seeing the light so slowly leave her, not like the sun setting, but rather like it dying, and fading to nothing but dull, dusty metal under the moon's silver light. Bit by bit her faith broke; he could hear it in her words, in her voice, watched her wilt away like a flower. "I’ve never met another God. I don’t know if they’re all the same, and I don’t know if I want to. Without her though… Without her, I’m invisible again. But I’d rather be invisible than follow someone capable of such cruelty.” He remained silent. If he told her of the Sun, who had plagued Helovia with his fires for so long, or of Time, who had snatched Mauja away and then laughed at the broken man that came back, would she fall into such black despair from which she would never return? Would it crush her too-kind heart to know that at least three of the four deities who were supposed to watch over and rule were selfish, arrogant bastards? Would she want to stay, within the borders of Helovia, if she learned it?

Athena's eyes were raised again, and Mauja's gaze sharpened, focusing upon hers — she seemed broken, lifeless, duller. Had it truly been necessary put her through this?

Yes.

"I think I see you," he said, all of a sudden, wondering what kind of herd Kri ran upon the red sands, yet knowing how hard it was to tear yourself into nearly fifty pieces, one for each member. He felt thin, stretched and strained; he wanted to be there with, and for, everyone in the Basin, but he had only one body, and that simply wasn't enough. "Or at least, I'd like to think I do." Dark muzzle extended, snowy neck lengthening out beneath the moon's eye; gently he tried to brush it against her shoulder, to breathe a little warmth into her on the cold winter's night. "What did she want you to do here, anyway?"

[ no it didn't <3 and gods I feel rusty. x_x; ]