( sorry for the wait guys :c my muse said goodbye for a few days and then my owed posts just piled up like crazy. )

The cold had finally claimed him, settling in his body like leaden weights. It deadened some of the pain, lessened the abominable ache in his kicked thigh—his "worst" injury, he thought—just as it stiffened him, making it harder to move, and more likely to tear. Still, the scuffle seemed to have worked, for when Voodoo had drifted away from his side again, he'd been a lot.. calmer? At least, he hadn't smelled of anger, and being near him hadn't set Mauja on edge. Maybe he'd need to "tap" his fury again, or maybe he wouldn't need to, but at that point, all had been well.

And Mauja, fool that he was, had remained up on the fields. If the cloud cover ever slid back, perhaps he would find a ledge where he could peer down into the Foothills... Or perhaps not. He sighed, white breath smoking to the sky, and figured staying up here while he healed was as good a plan as any. If someone annoyed him, he could just shove them off the nearest slope and be done with it.

"Mauja?"

The call was faint, the voice raspy, but the wind smelled unmistakeably of Voodoo and.. something else. Wolf, his mind said, and Irma wheeled up in the air, taking wing and scouting ahead. Indulging in a groan, Mauja set off in the direction of Voodoo, hoping he wasn't more injured than when he'd left him. But if a wolf was attacking him, surely he'd called a bit more intently?

But he wasn't attacked at all. Irma saw them clearly, Voodoo standing, the other, a fur-blob of tan, sitting on slender haunches, ears tipped and eyes intent. She claimed not to recognize the wolf, and Mauja shook his head slowly as he fell into an easy trot, telling her she'd been but an egg when she'd met Arathea last.

"Voodoo! Arathea!" he called out once he was closer, white tail flagging and his gait somewhat regal despite his vaguely uneven step. The best way to hide it was to take short steps, and that was what he was doing, not wanting to stretch the sore muscle.

It had been a long time since he'd seen the wolf-creature last, and he remembered his bitter disappointment that the predator had not helped them in fighting the Qian off – perhaps she could've turned the tide, but it was useless to think of now. She'd disappeared, just as he had disappeared, and that was that. If she'd come here with Voodoo.. perhaps she wanted to repent? He'd find out soon enough. Favoring them both with a smile, Mauja reached out to brush his muzzle across Voodoo's in greeting, before sidling away to stand in the middle between them, peering at Arathea. "Long time no see, Warden Wolf."

night-fate-stock -- dreamofsandman -- deirdre-T -- deviantart.com // i-mi.deviantart.com