Hold on to me because I'm a little unsteady

He would have to rip her wings from her shoulders for her to distrust him or treat him with the caution he might deserve. Perhaps that makes her foolish but even if he told her the deep, dark secrets of his heart and mind right then and there she still wouldn't reject him. She still wouldn't run from him. The man he used to be might have torn her wings from her body but he isn't that man anymore. What she sees is largely a mystery, his strangely stoic, frozen expression does little to reveal him and whom he really is down to the darkest depths of his soul. Her instincts, as innocent as they are, tell her enough. Somewhere beneath that icy exterior is a softness and warmth. Somewhere beneath the layers of snow is a tender, vulnerable heart. There had to be, right? It isn't possible for him to be some sort of abominable snowman on four legs, or is it?

No. In her innocence she is adamant of her answer. Her king - scratch that - queen isn't as cold as he appears. It just isn't possible. Her refusal to believe in the existence of anything dark and negative shouldn't entirely come as a surprise, though. The girl is young, after all, a mere baby beside Mauja; in age as well as experience. What experience did she really have? She'd been born in the Edge and it is here that she still lives. She was there for the Earth God's quest, though to say that she was old enough to make sense out of the need for the flood would be a lie. Collecting the buckets of water, the food, the animals in pairs - the whole thing had been a simple but fun game for the girl at the time. After that came the invasion, of which she saw nothing. Arguably, her worst or darkest experience to this day was the separation of her family; watching her father walk away and never come back.

Yet even that likely pales in comparison to Mauja's experiences.

Naerys could probably compliment the snowy owl all day - her beauty, as deadly as it could be, is endlessly attractive to the young girl. But she'd never expect anything in return. Never. Largely, she expected the owl to ignore her, or to give her the same cold stare that frequented the stallion's face. The compliment is given without expectation of reciprocation. More than anything it was simply a statement. A statement of something so obvious the words themselves seem pointless. 'Oh, what kind of owl is he?' It's a simple reply, short and to the point. Truth be told, she'd been hoping for something more. The girl is trying to worm her way through his icy exterior and into the warm depths of his heart but despite her efforts - he gave her nothing. She doesn't allow herself to become disheartened, instead she simply offers another one of her winning smiles. "He's a flammulated owl." she says proudly, only half amazed she said it without fumbling over the awkwardly long word. Compared to Irma, Hemlock is an absurdly small owl. Almost comically so, but the small owl is no less feisty. No less stubborn.

She seems to abandon her flowers without so much as a second thought. Instead, he is her focus and for a moment she saw a warmth in his pale eyes that she hadn't noticed before. It lifted her spirits while it was there, pressing the smile more firmly into her lips. That tiny glimpse only increased her desire to bridge the gap between them, stoking the longing to press her lips to his shoulder or bury her face against his muscular chest. The very thought made her heart race and flutter inside her chest. But in her hesitation, the moment slips away from her grasp.

'Of course.' he says and, as quietly as she'd expected he drifts into motion.

As gracefully as she can manage, she falls into step beside him. This time, though, the space between them is minimal. The girl longs to feel his heat, yet relishes in the nearness of his larger form by her side. She is careful to follow his lead, careful to avoid tripping herself or him. "Where would you like to go?" she asks, even though where doesn't matter to her so much as the company. Naerys, the naive youth, would follow Mauja to the ends of the earth. Is it a mistake? Maybe. Does she care? Not in the least.

NAERYS