K O U
Softly she comes
Whispers the breeze with her passing
In secret love she is laughing

Guilt now weighed heavily on Kou even if it was a guilt she didn't think she deserved. She felt guilt for the way she had treated the king in the time after he'd upset her. It hadn't been her best moment, she had to admit. Now in the wake of the battle for the Edge her heart was heavy. She had accused him of not caring about the ones that fought for him, but he had pulled them all away before the worst could happen.

Snow that had been crunching under her cloven hooves was now silenced as she stopped and looked l down at the foal that clung to her side, still absent of her father. It would be another subject to broach on with Mauja. How would they go about getting d'Artagnan back? She lifted her head and looked around the vast, frozen landscape, but this was Mauja's element. The frozen tundra was his home and he blended in perfectly.

Why had they even though they would fit in in the Edge?

Striking mights and maybes even more

A useless thing called life

It's a biting cold again

He was healing. Slowly pulling himself together, mind and body. After the visit by Tor and Ophelia he had abandoned the cave in the Frozen Arch, once more sweeping across the tundra like a snow ghost, a mythical being pulled from another time, another place - an ice revenant from some dark story. But despite being in his element, all the time, morning to evening and through the night, there were things he disliked. Things he missed. The vast, open sky, so blue in the day and so black in the night, made him feel vulnerable. Watched. Haunted. There were no trees to shield him from sun or rain, or to block the bitter wind that bit his thick fur on the colder days. And only on the shores, and usually only in the morning, could he find fog in which to hide, to dissolve the boundary between his body and the world. But even that was a small relief, as here, the moisture clung to his skin and froze, chilling him in ways he did not quite like. Maybe, in another time, in another place, he had been used to it. He couldn't remember, if there had been fog like the Edge's in his homeland - and if he had frozen, when it nestled so close to his skin.

Of course, it was only natural for a heart to swell with bitterness, the ache of loss. He could not simply stand still and listen to the trill of birds, their songs greeting both sun and moon, or hear the rustle of branches and leaves, of vegetation, scurrying mice - sea gulls crying, waves crashing against rocks. The land here was far too wide. The ocean did not reach him when he stood at its center. There were no trees, little green save hardy shrubs, no birds to sing of the seasons changing. Only the cold sky and the vastness of snow.

It glittered under the afternoon sun, shadows lengthening as it slowly sunk towards the western horizon. Mauja stood still, watching its movements, tracing its path across the sky. He liked the snow, he liked the cold, liked Frostfall - in many ways, it felt like home. But for so long, home had been the World's Edge, a foggy forest clinging to a cliff. How could he not compare that, which had been his pride and his haven, to a place he had been forced, no matter how lovely it was? Sighing, the former King allowed his gaze to fall, settling instead on a shape that blended in just as well as he. Perhaps he would not have seen her, if not for the little black filly clinging to her side. The ghost of a smile crept onto his face, but he made no move towards her yet. He had brought them here, scattered, and then disappeared with his infected hind end to a cave. Not the best move, but now he was out again, healing, not decaying. Between his ears, Irma gave his poll a, according to her, comforting squeeze. Sharp-taloned affection. He gave a snort. Not having a fever raging through his body, or his ass about to fall off, had definitely put him in a better mood.

That, and some distance to the memory of fire burning in his very skin.

Since he had nothing better to do than watch the sun arc across the sky, and now it was near the horizon anyway, he called out to her, a deep whicker rolling across the snowy tundra. Feeling in no particular hurry he began to walk, remembering, easily, how to stride across snow. It felt so natural. It was unfair, how it cleaved his heart in two; one that longed for the Edge, another that wanted to spin in the snow, and laugh at the cold, dark skies. But I want to spin between trees, dance between their familiar trunks and watch the trail of my body through the fog.

You could never have it all.

"Kou," he greeted her, once close enough. He stopped at a yard or so out, extending his dark muzzle to bump it against hers, should she allow it. Then, he craned his neck to gaze at little Aviya, giving her a smile. "And little Aviya, of course."

K O U
Softly she comes
Whispers the breeze with her passing
In secret love she is laughing

He appeared almost as if by magic, his call to her rumbling over the pristine landscape. An ear tilted and she turned her head to catch sight of the pale king as he strode easily toward her and her daughter. It amazed her at how natural it was for him. He seemed to glide instead of slipping and sliding over the icy ground as she had the first day or so of being stranded there. Now she was steady reliable enough for her young daughter to lean on her when she needed the support. She had no fear that she might accidentally slip on the ice and crush her daughter's body under her own.

A smile, however slight, creased her lips when her king spoke her name. "Mauja." Unlike the last time she had spoken to him her tone was no longer laced with sarcasm and anger. Her neck stretched and she bumped her muzzle against his before looking down at her daughter as the king addressed her. She ran her muzzle along her daughter's dark back before rising to meet Mauja's gaze.

"I've been looking for you." She finally said. "It's taken me time and I realize now that I was wrong in the way I treated and spoke to you." Her tone told of her sorrow and guilt from the way she had acted. "I am sorry." Her head lowered as she waited for Mauja to either accept her apology or decline it and send her on her way. What would she do then if he did?

Striking mights and maybes even more

A useless thing called life

It's a biting cold again

If he thought upon it, upon those weeks when Kou had looked at him with nothing but a sense of betrayal and disgust, he'd be relieved at the difference now - the small, slight smile, the indication that things were as they used to be. As they should be. But he did not enjoy remembering her cold, estranged attitude, and chose to not dwell upon it that often. Of course, to just forget it would be to render her point, those strained, painful weeks, void. And if he forgot about it, decided that it did not matter anymore, he'd just risk doing the same thing again. It had been unpleasant enough that the mere thought of upsetting her again might make him think twice, although when it came down to it, he was not a creature to decide his acts upon the consequences others would force upon him. He followed his heart, and tried to not get too many killed or injured in the process.

When she spoke his name, things felt right, like they always had been. After all, they had known each other a long time, and such things mattered to him. A stranger could easily lie to you, sell you to your enemies, but one you had known for long - well, somehow sticking around bred trust, even if he did not always understand the workings of it. Warm, soft muzzles extended breaths and touches, a mother's caress given to the filly. Her breathing concerned the exiled King, though for now her lungs seemed to have settled. Whether or not the cold air was good for her was a question to which he had no answer, something like a guilty conscience knocking him on the shoulder from time to time. Had it been right of him, to lead his shattered, bruised herd to this wasteland? He knew how to survive in the snow, bred to deal with its harsh winters - were they? Did they know how to seek shelter in a blizzard, to burrow in the snow without choking when it covered you, to browse for food on the cold tundra with lips that grew cold and numb?

Looking for me? Her words tugged at his attention, gaze lifting from the steady rise and fall of Aviya's dark sides and to her face. Even though his spirits sank slightly at the subject, he didn't let it show; just allowed his enigmatic eyes to sparkle from within, as they always did. Frost in sunshine. Speak not of such evils. "Don't worry," he told her gently, not sure who he was trying to soothe - her, or himself, that it was alright? That she had truly forgiven him, and wasn't just playing at it? "I did kind of deserve it." Kind of being the truth in his eyes: on one hand, he'd known what he was doing, and stupid as it was he'd felt confident about it. On the other, it had been an act of divine stupidity, not exactly one of his brightest moments despite surviving the ordeal. Mauja forced it from its perch in his mind. He had apologized, she had apologized - so let's just not speak of it again, hm?

"How is she handling the cold?" he asked, a motion of his dark muzzle in the direction of Kou's little filly. "I don't like the sound of her cough... I have no doubts about the adults surviving out here, but... I'd feel horrible if she suffered here."