The weight against his chest, it was foreign - it was precious and fragile, a thing he would keep safe. He could not go to war with it. He could not risk crushing the shell and spilling what life was meant to be bound to his, a far more intimate relationship than any he had ever entered before. Mauja was not an open creature by nature. As much as the idea of having a fated companion boggled his mind, there was also something anxious in that deep, dark soul of his: this creature would, in time, know him, in and out. It would know his mind. His heart.

He had never, ever experienced such a thing with anyone before. Even as the owl's speech, only doing nothing but teasing him with knowledge, floated around his ears did he look down, trying - desperately - to look at the egg. Of course, he couldn't. His whole damn head was in the way.

He could just feel it, barely any weight at all around his thick neck, the lightest of touches against his muscles. So, he had a choice. Stay here, a land and time unknown, but one that desperately wanted his attention - it wanted his curiosity, and he wished he could give in, prowl this snowy expanse and prod it for secrets. He wished he could see the ones who lived here now - if any did - and what they had been like. Primal and primitive, or glorious ancients whose kingdom had since dulled, and been forgotten, covered by snow until even the sharpest edges had been worn down?

For the first time since coming here, Mauja looked over his shoulder, peering at the portal. Still framed by dancing light, the Orangemoon Edge he knew so well hanging just behind it. A single step from this side to the other, a single, sickening, world-wrenching moment. Here lay nothing he knew, a tree, himself, and an egg, snow and the cold winter sun. On the other side lay his herd - and the few individuals he nearly dared trust. On that side lay d'Artagnan, and his children. Snö, Tamlin. Monster, rude Korra, short Aurelius, sad Huyana and happy Lena - Faelene, Descaro, Lotus, Delinne... Somewhere out there was Psyche. There were so many - too many - of them. He was their King.

It had always been a privilege, and honor, to lead them. For a single moment in time, it was a burden.

The Ice King heaved a sigh, blue eyes looking back to the tree and its owl. "Thank you for everything," he murmured, something defeated and sorrowful in his voice. "Though I wish to know more of this time, of you, of everything that has ever been and will be.. this is not my time. I have a responsibility to my herd.

"I will not forget. I will do what I can to honor you, and that which has been. I hope your life was a glorious one, winter one."

And then, he turned, but did not yet move. The egg bumped gently against him whenever he moved, and in hesitation his ears fell back. Slowly, he looked over his shoulder again; this time, at the wintery world. "Is my time here running short, or will staying here and asking you things get me anywhere?" If he was bound to return to his own home - why act like a kicked dog and waste this opportunity to know more? Better to ask and know for sure if he would learn anything, than spend an entire lifetime wondering what he would've been told if he had.