Ridiculous.

The Nightshade had been restless for days since the makeshift meeting that announced another Lady to oversee their herd. Although the Time God seemed quite set on it, the Mender was unsure whether he would get along with Ophelia and her tainted blood. In moments of clarity, he could reason with himself for being a hypocrite when he didn’t have the conviction to try take the crown for his own and every time he thought of why he came up blank. Was it because he had followed all his life? Was this now all he was capable of? Did he even want such titles? The shade’s answer to that question was a mixture of yes and no, the responsibilities not so much and the power maybe. Yet, didn’t his role already hold a certain amount of influence? In the end, as always, the shade convinced himself that he didn’t want to try his luck in order to win something that meant so little to his own desires. He was a selfish creature with insanity problems, the herd wouldn’t want him at the head and he’d only lead them down the gutter.

Still, uncertainty racked his mind as recent events all hit him at once, change never sat well with d’Artagnan and this time certainly wasn’t any different. He paced through the snowy landscape of the Basin with a look of thunder on his face whilst Aramis had disappeared on a hunting trip. The odd wave of satisfaction would hit the Doctor when his bonded friend landed a kill. At least someone was having fun.

His aimless pacing brings him towards the middle of the Basin where he catches the sight of a dark movement. A child, not quite a yearling, the tell-tale gangly body giving away her youth and her questioning voice travels far enough to reach the Nightshade’s ears. The closer he gets to her the more familiar she becomes though exactly why the Doctor couldn’t quite put his finger on. The filly looked like a darker, sootier version of Mauja, as if someone had turned him inside out and shrunk him a fair few hands. Who was this girl? Surely it was just a coincidence. However, d’Artagnan wouldn’t be all that surprised if he found that the child was indeed related somehow, the Frostheart had a way with mares. He knew this because he’d seen it for himself, that day many years ago on the cliff tops of the Worlds Edge; he’d watched the former King be seduced by the all too tempting Lotus whilst he got sent away to knock Gossamer off a cliff. Alas, he couldn’t complete the latter, but ‘ol Mauja managed his end easily enough.

Indeed. Who was this child? “What's wrong, young ‘un?”

[ooc: Glacia is an almost Mauja ;~; I CAN USE THIS TABLE >< *sobs*
anyway, d'Art knows Mau quite well? Or well enough that he should know enough to give you some development. Hope you don't mind me chucking him in here <3]

He was right! This was the Frosthearts child.

d’Artagnan struggled to school his face from bursting into laughter. That shady bugger! Was this becoming his friend’s new occupation? Repopulate the world with mini versions of himself?! Not that the Mender could talk with his band of misfit children, yet, at least they all knew who he was and about his life. This one had no clue, perhaps even only a name, ”that punk” he muttered internally. What, was he getting lazy enough that he couldn’t even educate his own kids! Why should he do this? A plethora of curse words sprang to mind and he directed them all at the snowy bastard. In the end, the Nightshade gave in to to the girl and her problems, but he would teach her history in his own way. A young mind was the easiest to corrupt and especially one that sought answers. He rolled his tongue and waited for her to finish her last question before a calculating smile curled onto his lips as he dipped his head in greeting. ”I’m d’Artagnan, your local Time Mender” he introduced first. ”It’s nice to meet you, Glacia, daughter of the Frostheart” he played with his words taking enjoyment in what was turning out to be an interesting meeting.

”Do I know Mauja?” He mulled in his head, he knew some facts, a little of his friend’s personality, but did anyone ever really know the former King? Even the Nightshade struggled to keep up with the spotty git’s up and down roller coaster of changing personality. He had changed a lot from the stallion that had recruited him to Moon Doctor that time many seasons ago and at times, d’Artagnan missed the ruthless stallion that lead with conviction and power. That Mauja was easier to understand than the Mauja of now and this was the Doctors verdict.

”Mauja, aye, I know him. Quite well really, or I used to. What do you want to know?” He asked the daughter. Was he a good man? Was he aspiration worthy? Weren’t they the things a child wanted to know, or wished of a parent, footsteps to follow or a guide to stop them falling.

[sorry for the lateness!! D: I almost completely forgot ><]