How - when - had it come to this? When had this poison spread between them, this thick, sturdy wall of ice that he could see through, but not breach? When had all the distance of the vast night sky placed itself between them, forcing their two souls to opposite ends of the world? And how, how, had he not seen it? Had he been too caught up in the steady flow of newcomers, too busy being everywhere that he had no time to truly devote to his extended family? Crestfallen, uncertain, he stood poised on the edge of flight, watching Kou with wary, saddened eyes. She lashed out, not in the way of a striking viper, but stiff and stoic, as distant and unreachable as the moon. Mauja flinched visibly, head jerking back and his long, thick forelock cascading in front of his eyes. "Kou..." he whispered so quietly he wasn't sure she'd even hear it, let alone see his lips move to shape her short name. Simply out of inexperience he couldn't name the despair which swept through him, though the sensation was far too similar to that of having no air in your lungs for him to like it. It felt like drowning, something large and painful lodging itself in his throat and chest; warm, throbbing, obscuring, threatening to do everything to him which he had ever sought to avoid being subject to. How could one mare, and one he did not even love, undo him so completely?

And as if her simple rejection of their friendship hadn't been enough she cut deeper; the mare he had once begun to trust, to believe would be there, always, like a true friend, turned upon him in a roundabout way. So why was he not angry? Why could he not find a single spark of rage inside his soul? It was as if he'd melted, no ice left, only water sloshing around inside, threatening to break out of his eyes like a transparent flood of blood. He drew a ragged breath, desperately searching through himself for something to hold onto - something that wasn't this overwhelming, heart-wrenching and mind-numbing sadness. Guilt - how could he feel guilt when he did not know what had caused this? What had he done? If it had been something terrible - he should remember it, shouldn't he? Clenching his jaws for a moment, Mauja closed his eyes, fighting back the tide of emotions. He could not - would not - lose it all, not to this cold and bitter creature which stood in the place of the mare who had once been soft like spring grass and radiant as the sun. Whether it was only to him or truly so he did not know, but it felt like everything she said, everything she did, was laced by that venomous, sarcastic edge. Not even her assurance, worry not, King, felt like nothing but a stab between his exposed ribs.

"When did it come to this?" he asked of her in a hollow voice, raising his head to stare at her; and if she did not know him, how could he claim to know her? The Kou he knew - the Kou that had known him - would not have pulled back, she would've had faith and approached him about whatever it was... Or wouldn't she? Had all he ever believed about her, the ways he thought he knew her, been a lie? Had he never known her at all? Troubled and anxious he kept staring in her direction, never quite looking - not trusting himself to hold it all together if he saw the look on her face, but feeling his own sadness being worn thin by childish irritation. He fought the urge to stupidly retaliate and call her Nurse, fought the urge to hide his own sudden insecurity behind an attack; what good could it do, to blame her for this, for not sorting it out with him, when he frankly had no clue at all as to what was going on? It was a moral twist he would not subject himself to, even though it hurt deeply to know that she had been unhappy with his actions and not let him know - not told him. How would he know if he did things right, then, if no one ever told him when he didn't? But Mauja just withdrew into himself, creeping back behind ice walls, step by step, slowly reclaiming his haywire emotions and stuffing them back into their marble shell.