She wasn't sure what to make of their conversation. Replaying the encounter, the words she had spoken, over and over in her head yielded no successes. What did he think of her? Did he like her at all? Or was she just another tiresome burden that he felt pity for? Mauja's face remained expressionless, not even the smallest movement could give away what he was thinking. Scarlet orbs, large and doe-like, studied the stallion, taking into account his massive stature, almost floating across the ground with large strides. Had any of her mother's bedtime tales of the pure and majestic unicorn detailed a beast like this? If they had, Eliaren thought she would've been able to remember. She had thought them only to be stories - nothing more. The woman never believed in unicorns nor the magic that they wielded. Until now. Now, she had to believe. There was one here, in this moment, before her very eyes. He was of an ethereal, indefinable quality.

Was this real? Or was it purely a figment of her imagination?

Eliaren paused behind Mauja for a moment to take in the beauty that surrounded her. Thick evergreen forest slowly transformed into clusters of limber willow trees. Peering between the long, draping branches she caught a glimpse of open space and the glimmer of water. Nestled beneath the canopy of green lay the crystal-clear pool.

"So, this is it, huh?" She was well aware of the exact expression taking over her face. Her eyes twinkled, brows quirked, that ridiculous half-smirk plastering itself across her maw. All of this was in an idiotic manner but she was powerless to control it.

Her steady frame drifted through the willows surrounding the pool, and came out not too far from the water's edge. She stepped closer, stopping just before the lapping waters could reach her hooves. Letting herself relax a little, allowing a snort escaped her nostrils, she approached the bank of the crisp, cool waters. There the mare stood, the tip of her long, bedraggled tail just barely being tugged at by the gentle current as it hung down. Craning her neck, Eli looked out across the water. A weary reflection gazed back up at her.

It had turned out to be a wonderful day, and she wondered if Helovia was always this peaceful. No. It was simply impossible. Nowhere was truly safe. Don't be silly. Rather than the dead browns and grays she was so used to seeing during her time spent in the mountains, now the canopy was beginning to be painted in vibrant shades of greens and various midseason colors. Though lucky enough to avoid the humidity that comes with summer months, Eliaren found that that this time of year was by far her favorite. Yet she feared she could not let her guard down, despite her calm surroundings.

but somewhere here in between the city walls of dyin' dreams

Movement was good. Movement was easy. He felt comfortable in silence, at ease in the dappled light as their path took them through alternating shade and sun, content to, for once, have something to do—a distinct task, so much more tangible and real than just 'going to the Threshold'. There was a set path, a set goal, and someone with him. Someone to anchor him to this world. Still, he drifted, floating along the streams of his thoughts, but there was nothing dark in them—nothing strange, just musings and observations, gaze lingering on bright flowers and ears flicking to the sound of chirping birds.

He needed more days like this—days without pressing matters, days without heartache, days when the mere circumstances of the world told him to breathe.

(To stop holding on so tight—)

He wouldn't fall. (He couldn't fall.) There was no harm (—in what?), in .. this, sunlight and red eyes and a dusty dappled skin. One black-rimmed ear flicked back and his large head was thrown to the side, peering back at her. There was no harm in her. (Right?)

And still, he couldn't truly shake that feeling in the pit of his stomach, that feeling that there was something more to this, something he hadn't thought of. Something, that would spring itself out of the darkness and onto his mind, like that age-old beast fettered to the floor of his soul.

All teeth and anger, that one.

A soft sigh left his dark nostrils as they paced on, heading west. There was no use thinking about it—and he suspected it was a remnant of his other self, the one that had been all about plots and malice and nefarious deeds. He shrugged to himself, and Irma took wing, abandoning her perch on his back and surging off to hunt. A moment later, a sleepy Diego followed her, leaving the two horses more or less alone.

Step by step the amount of willows increased, their bright spring green foliage wavering gently in the breeze. He could see a hint of the pond itself up through the trees, the sharp glitter of sunlight upon its still surface. "So, this is it, huh?" Eliaren said behind him, and he paused to look at her. It was, by far, the most expressive he'd seen her—and he could only describe it as vaguely dorkish. It brought a small smile out, a subtle curve of his dark lips. "This is it," he answered softly as she took the lead instead, picking her way through a curtain of willow leaves. "The Secret Grove." And perhaps, it was Helovia's worst kept secret. Still smiling faintly to himself he ghosted along after her, until they came out on the bank.

He didn't know what he had expected—maybe not for her to shriek and throw herself into the water with apparently glee, but .. certainly not just stand upon the bank, as she did now, looking at her own bedraggled reflection. Frowning, he came closer, absentmindedly hoping it wasn't too close for her comfort, his own white reflection appearing next to hers. Why wasn't she going in? Was something wrong? Was she having doubts about him? Did she think it wasn't safe? Maybe she was unsure of how deep it was?

He didn't know—couldn't know—and his mind ran through a couple of different sentences, but they all sounded clunky and awkward, like the words wouldn't fit his mouth. So, he did what he could—his muzzle brushed across the buckles of his leather bags, and they slid to the soft forest floor along with the crystal staff. He knew who she was: if she picked them up and ran, he'd hunt her to the ends of the earth and take back what was his.

(Still, the idea of it filled him with unease, a twinge of sour, black fear—)

And then he stepped into the water, wading out until his hooves no longer touched the soft bottom, and paddled into the center of the pond, his head raised up into the sunlight.

[ @Eliaren ]

Mauja

the white queen

"It's lovely here." Eliaren remarked faintly, in an absentminded fashion. Mauja appeared beside her. There was no need to raise her head, as she saw his reflection join hers in the gentle ripples of the water. Her pale skin tingled a little beneath the sun's fiery rays. This was as close as he had come to her. She was slightly surprised, but showed no sign of it on her features. She watched as he unfastened the curious leather bag and lay it on the bank, gently placing the crystal staff beside it. Eli did not bother with questions. It didn't matter. Or did it? What was she getting herself into? What did she want...Before the hesitant woman could make up her mind, Mauja took the lead once more, slipping into the water. Her gaze followed the snow-laden stallion as he glided gracefully toward the middle, disrupting the stillness of the surface with his splashing.

What are you standing about for?

There was worry; sometimes when she swam too deep, the water felt thirty times heavier on her back, so dense that it was as if she wouldn't ever be able to surface. It made her feel somewhat weak, like she could easily be defeated at any moment. But oh, how she was fond of the water. When she saw it, particularly large bodies of it, she was happy and her troubles slipped away. She didn't even have to go in, she could just stand on the shore and watch it move fluidly and sparkle in the sunlight for hours on end. Listen to it lap gently at the bank. Watch the beautiful shapes and configurations that the water made. It was never the same twice. The peace and serenity that came upon her when she was by the water, there was nothing like it. It made her feel free. It made her calm. Well, on any other occasion she would be calm. This was certainly not a feeling the mare was used to and no matter how hard she tried she could stop her stomach churning. Was she afraid? There was something else- another feeling was also brimming in her chest, nearly spilling out her along with her nerves, something she couldn't quite make out. Forget about it. She exhaled deeply.

"Wait up!" She called out, voice echoing after him.

Dabbling her hooves in the pond, she slowly waded further out. Each step she took was carefully placed, her movements graceful and lithe as her smaller form slipped into the shallows. The response was immediate as the liquid spread around her body, the sudden shock of cold making her muscles tense. It rose up around her fawn-colored barrel as she immersed herself in the element that felt like soft velvet. The biting temperature slowly warmed up to the maiden, soothing the ache that clawed at her limbs. Gliding through the depths, moving her legs in rhythm, she was swimming. Oxygen flowed into and through her lungs, giving her the power to stroke and kick. Eliaren watched the mystical light around her, the sunbeams playing amid the undulating currents in silvery whites, blues and rainbow colors. Time stood still as her body moved silently and serenely, almost joyfully.

The sounds of their breathing and that of water intermingled with the chirping of birds overhead and the whisper of the wind in the trees. Clear aqua glided over her shoulders, wrapping her in a cold cocoon. When she reached Mauja in the center, her entire body was submerged up to her neck. The water met her long fuchsia-dipped mane, dancing into the mess it was, ridding it of the knots time had given.

but somewhere here in between the city walls of dyin' dreams

It was cold. It wasn't even summer yet—so why did it surprise him how cold it was? When his frosted hooves had stepped into the soft muck of the bottom and it had first caressed his fetlocks it had been like a pleasant, exotic tingle up his legs.

And then, it had just been an icy punch in the gut, and cold, iron bars around his lungs. The air froze in his throat, his heart screamed out, once, as the shock of it made its way through his system even as his long legs kicked smoothly beneath the clear surface.

It got better after a few seconds. Blood vessels constricted and his heart pumped out warmth, and he let out a snort as he paddled towards the center, when—"Wait up!"—she cried out from the shore. Obliging, he paused. It had been a long, long time since he had gone swimming. He probably hadn't done it since Glacia had nearly drowned, and that had been, what, one or two years ago?

(Because she was three and a mother already—)

The grief she had known as she gave birth had nearly destroyed her, just as the grief in his third year had almost destroyed him. If he thought the gods petty enough to dabble in curses he'd be tempted to put it down to magic.

It was difficult to think of in the sunlight, though. The contrast between his warm neck and the cold water was like an erratic slap in the face each time it rippled higher, but he liked it—it was the most alive he had felt in a long, long time. In all the darkness, in all the grief, there could also be light, and that was why he allowed himself to sigh, to let go of thoughts of death and suffering without feeling guilt.

That was why he laughed, freely, joyously, as he fought the awkward mechanics of his body to turn and face her as he waited. Her tail, like his, had strands of it floating towards the surface, and her coat was slick and dark, plastered tight against her skin. It had soaked through her neck above the waterline like a collar, and second by second the sunlight struck more glints in it as the mud and dust dissolved and floated away. Whenever it caught her eye, unhindered by eyelids or her long forelock, it reminded him of rubies.

He wished he could tell her she was beautiful without being afraid of what it might mean.

"I feel a bit stupid about it, but I was briefly surprised at how cold it was," he told her sheepishly when she had come a little closer. The constant movement in his legs to keep him afloat was more than enough to warm him now, and he found himself actually enjoying the feeling of his heart thundering in his chest. Awkwardly, he turned back towards the center and made his way towards it. With little but his white neck, head, and the occasional glint of withers and a rump above the surface he looked a bit like a mutated swan. "But I like it," he went on after a moment, his breathing slightly harsher than usual as his lungs and heart fought to keep his large body oxygenated. His ragged mane, seemingly perpetually stuck with a burnt-off section in its middle, was either plastered to his neck or spread out on the water like a halo. "I had forgotten how good it feels to swim."

I had forgotten about a lot of things.

[ @Eliaren ]

Mauja

the white queen

"As do I," she replied with a small, indulgent smile. She turned her head to face Mauja. His muscled neck shone bright against the blue depths, spiraling horn projecting from his forehead glimmering, damp forelock sticking to the side of his face. This gentleman was no less alluring, stark white coat soaked through up to his shoulders. Where the wetness touched it, his hair clung to his frame, revealing chiseled, finely-carved features. He was quite handsome.

Another balmy spring breeze caressed rings of ripples on the surface. It was as if the wind itself had placed her under a trance, forcing her to watch the power it had over the pond.

"There is something special about it - the water - it's mysterious, I know little of what lurks in its darkest depths..." Eliaren's vocals filled with vibrant tones as she spoke. "I take it you don't come here often?" She noticed the unbridled flow of the waters gentle ripples, slowly weaving back and forth against the steadfast shore line of the wide expanse. How mysterious the darkness of it's depths could seem, as the shadows of the lilies playfully dance upon it's blue skin. If she could join the waters, she would become one with it's fluid motion. If the water had a voice, and asked her to join it on it's journey she would gladly leap in with her eyes closed and cherish the feeling of it's essence as it hungrily engulfed her soul. She allowed it to cleanse the earth's dirt from her body, while floating aimlessly in it's unbridled wake.

Slowly but surely, the little worry lingering in the back of her mind began to slip away. The dragonflies caught her attention, landing on a bullrush nearby, and the mare lifted her scarlet gaze from the stallion for a moment to see them in their metallic finery.

The surroundings aroused all the senses in her. It carried her away from the daily chores and chaos of everyday life. The sound of their paddling, birds singing, and the vast view put her in a good mood. She could lie and soak in the sun, while listening to the current, and think of nothing. Clean, fresh, rainwater smells, which was also very mineral-y, rose up from the surface. They were among the willows, who cast their reflection on the water on the west side of the lake making a dark silhouette against the blue. Earth, leaves, vegetation, trees. The sun shone down upon the forest, heating up the air.

Her legs moved continuously beneath her, churning the water. She wondered how deep the pond was, if she could reach down and touch the sandy bottom. It was impossible to see that far down, clear as the water was. The sun did not penetrate the lowest part of the pond, all that could be seen was a shady abyss. She enjoyed the noise of waves splashing, and the water hugging her delicate hooves.

but somewhere here in between the city walls of dyin' dreams

To swim freely again, to feel the full extension of his hind legs as he kicked.. again, and again, and again.

He had forgotten the power of his own body, had even let it go to waste—and he was oddly self-aware of it, how the wetness of his coat made it cling to his slightly too lean frame, and what a drab shade of gray it became when flattened to his black skin in such a way. He very nearly felt guilty for being in her presence. With each second she became more and more beautiful—alluring, even.

(But he knows what he knows, about himself, and about the world—)

So he kept his distance, and not only because he wasn't too keen on either of them getting kicked on accident. The cool water rushed pleasantly over his shoulders as they glided across the pond, and upon his head his black-rimmed ears turned to the soft sound of her voice. "There is something special about it - the water - it's mysterious, I know little of what lurks in its darkest depths..." Mysterious? As he paddled along he realized he had never thought of the water as mysterious—in his youth, it had simply spelled 'death'. Cold, black depths of icy water to freeze the blood in your veins, so tight, so tight, until you couldn't breathe anymore. But in the springs and summers, there had been brooks and ponds of clear freshwater, still cold, but not lethally so.

Unlike the rampaging ocean many days from the Heimasburg. It had never been kind to those who fell in. And here? The fogs of the Edge had promptly stolen the label "mysterious" as far as any land went, the ocean below simply hidden from view, and by the shore below it was more.. peaceful and serene than mysterious. And then it was the whole story of the swamp and his hatred of the southern lands and why that ocean was a bad ocean and yeah, he guessed this spot was kind of mysterious because it had the whole flower-thing and the willows and the romantic air going on and—

"No," he replied absently, shoulders and haunches heaving to keep his body afloat as he tried to circle away from her. "Which is strange, seeing as I live—in the lands just north of here. And," his breathing punctuating his speech, "I've got some mixed—memories of this place. Plus—you never know what you'll—run into." He grimaced, not sure what he was doing, but he was aiming to fall in behind her. Playing tag in the water wasn't a very nice idea, but to be honest he didn't know if it was his intention or not. Besides, it was becoming painfully obvious to him that he had neglected himself tremendously over the past months, as he felt a fatigue in his muscles which shouldn't be there—not so soon, anyway. It was the same with the strained thunder of his heart, and the harsh breath coming out of his nostrils on each stroke.

But he wasn't going to give in, not just yet. Nor was he going to stay in too long and accidentally drown himself—except.. that couldn't happen. He'd just go under the surface, wash up the shore, get a little waterlogged, but be fine.

And still was so strange to think of...

[ @Eliaren | got interrupted near the end so I kinda lost my train of thought <_< ]

Mauja

the white queen

It was a peculiar thing, to be there in that moment. If that even made any sense at all. Because she would be in every moment until the day her heart stopped beating. But at present, it was beating hard. Nothing made sense these days anyway. For example, why was she here with this striking beast that she had only just met? It made hardly any sense, when she contemplated it. She was supposed to be alone, wandering, fending off whatever dangers came at her - and of those, there were many. Danger, it was everywhere. Eli was not one to put herself at risk, to embrace the unknown with open arms, to walk where she could not see the ground beneath her. However, in this tiny fraction of her life, it seemed right. There was no running, no hiding. Perhaps she wasn't thinking straight at all. There were so many places she could go wrong, and yet, she kept swimming even though the emptiness below her was vast and dark and unknown.

Mauja swam around her. His limbs has slowed a bit now, and she supposed he was growing tired. She was, too. Not only from swimming in the pond, sustaining her great weight in the water with the kicking of her dainty legs, but from the many miles they had carried her on land in order to get to this place. Eliaren was relieved that they had brought her here. "Which is strange, seeing as I live—in the lands just north of here. And," She listened, careful not to seem too intrigued. Dark, seal-tipped ears flicked lightly atop Eliaren's skull as her gaze narrowed momentarily upon the gentleman. Where did he come from? What was this home of his like? She allowed her mind to wander and to fall into a euphoric state."I've got some mixed—memories of this place. Plus—you never know what you'll—run into."

"I'm glad I ran into you, Mauja." she winked at him dramatically before letting a precarious laugh fall from her lips in a heated wave.

With tender strokes, the umber toned female carefully made her way through the reflecting pool of water. Droplets of the flying water, kicked up by the movement of hooves, scattered across her face. She was in up to the middle of her neck, spray soaking the flushed hues that surrounded her body. Shifting her ruby stare, Eli eyed the stallion beside her with a silent amusement. A feeling of lightheartedness enveloped her soul, and now, with its warm embrace cradling her, she refused to let it go. Everywhere and all at once was the inevitable pleasure that came with swimming on a sunny day. It was as if the world was spinning a million times faster. Everything around her seemed to move. Everything was alive. A place of happiness where almost anything and everything seemed possible (it was so far, far away from that).

He came closer behind her, not close enough to be kicked, only close enough. And she let him. She turned her head to look at Mauja, pivoting her body just so with a charming and dignified grace, rosy tresses of her hair trailing being her on the surface.

but somewhere here in between the city walls of dyin' dreams

He felt light—in more ways than one. Not simply because swimming was the closest to flying (shitshitshit—the realization hit him like a sledgehammer) he had come since that time he had been spirited across the Throat "bridge", but because some of the darkness which had clung to him had been dispelled.

And by what?

A stranger, of all things—a travel-worn, dusty, dirty, bedraggled and apologetic stranger. Had she been in need? No, not quite; he didn't want to call anyone helpless, defenseless, in need. But had finding her a guide done her any harm? No, he didn't think so—rather, the opposite. She had not needed him, nor his guidance, but maybe, in a way, he had needed her. Abstractly, loosely, he had needed to be needed by choice, rather than by circumstance.

And she had chosen to accept his offer of guidance, had chosen to remain in his company, to follow him into the serene waters. She had, actively, decided to place some amount of trust in him.

And then, by sheer happenstance, it had happened to make him happy.

It was a strange thing, strange thoughts, strange life, and something he tucked away for later. He didn't want to pick the moment apart and ruin it with his need to see, and understand, every smallest detail—he just wanted to enjoy it, the rush of cold water across his back, the feeling of chill in the depths his fetlocks touched when they extended... He just wanted to fly in the reflection of the sky.

(The only way he could.)

"I'm glad I ran into you, Mauja," she responded, and with a wink so exaggerated not even he could be afraid (—well, maybe, maybe there was something beneath it, something to be afraid of, but don't be, don't be, don't think too much, take it easy—). Instead, he snorted, a harsher than usual sound as his knees worked their way towards the surface. "At least it was not a literal collision," he replied with a faint smirk, content to wallow around in her wake—let her steer where they would go in their own little corner of heaven—but she turned, slightly. Her neck was still a little dirty up by the throat and head, but he figured she wasn't too keen on sticking it beneath the surface when she couldn't even touch the ground.

He knew he'd be wary of doing it. (He knew he had rescued someone else here, someone trapped in the pond's shallows.) Letting out a strained grunt he turned, and began heading for the nearest shore. While he could tempt fate and risk drowning, it.. was still not something he trusted, and, he felt oddly ashamed of his inability to die; he'd rather Helovia didn't know he was immortal.

So it was with a faint relief that his forehooves struck the murky ground, and he surged upright, baring the top of his back and haunches to the breeze and the sun. His white tail spread out behind him, and his mane clung gracelessly to his neck until it hit the water, where it, too, fanned out. With a small grimace he turned on the spot to face her direction. "So," he said, lightly, brightly, his blue eyes still shining with his own strange brand of happiness. "Am I living up to your stories of unicorns?"

And if he had been a tad less charmed by her, he would've lolled out his tongue in a comic grimace, but as it was, he just tilted his head to one side and gave her a rakish grin to show just how not serious he was. The day someone's bedtime stories of unicorns matched Mauja, well, that was the day he was going to become sorely worried about the state of the world.

[ don't worreeeee <3 @Eliaren ]

Mauja

the white queen

"Certainly that wouldn't have gone down well.." Eliaren replied. She was breathing harder, pink nostrils flared slightly, as her energy wore out she was forced to give in to the screams of her aching muscles. Using her teeth as best she could, the mare vigorously rubbed at the stains in her coat in an attempt to loosen the last visible dirt. It was hard to make out against her similarly shaded coat. Other than physical tiredness, she felt much better now. Much cleaner. Noticing Mauja had made his way in front of her again, she followed him as he turned for the bank.  

As soon as hooves touched the earth fatigue tried to rob the gem of her graces. But with slight struggle the seal-coated girl was able to keep her head up rather than falter as a sigh escaped her. Keen eyes were on watch as she took in their surroundings from the water, subtly double checking for anything out of the ordinary. Anything that might mean danger. But there was nothing there expect herself and this majestic white beast, and the whisper of a gentle wind in the willows and little bird hopping about in the branches, vocals worn from all their singing. It was done more as a reassurance to make sure no predator was lurking just out of sight, just in case.

"So," When Mauja's voice finally erupted from his throat Eli’s ears flicked back and forth. "Am I living up to your stories of unicorns?" A small smile worked over her features as she emerged from the water after him. Cool water dripped from her flanks, which had been cleansed of old grime and blood and whose dapples glinted radiantly. Her tricolored hair, which was slightly curly, fell down to her knees under its soaked weight. Droplets of water, sparkling like diamonds, decorated her ivory-masked face. Hoofbeats glided her through the shallows and away from the pond. She joined him on the shore, drawing in a breath of fresh air, muzzle twitching as a comment of sweet scents. As the stallion stood smiling before her (was that a small smile appearing on his blackish lips? she thought it was) the maiden took the chance to chortle lightly, "You are,"

The feminine smile hardly faded away as she craned her head toward the pond and then back again. Examining herself with great care, she groomed down a piece of hair that had been sticking up on her shoulder. She ran an eye over her entire structure, pausing at the few small scrapes on her legs, furrowing her brow with an expression of disapproval.

“I do feel slightly more presentable,” her voice trailed off as she positioned herself perpendicularly to Mauja, stepping a little further from the overhanging trees and into better light, which washed over her like a translucent cloak of gold. "Did I miss any spots?"

but somewhere here in between the city walls of dyin' dreams

He just felt—warm, as if the sunlight had finally made its way through the thick ice and into his soul. Warm, even though the gentle breeze sighing past him was much too cool against his wet body and the deep, dark reaches of the pond where his hooves stood mired were nearly painful as the chill settled deep in his bones. It was a strange contrast, and for a moment, he just stood there—feeling. His sides heaved against the cold waters, his pulse thundered, down through his frigid legs and back up to his heart.

Oddly pleasant as it was, he decided that if he stood there for too long, he was going to become miserable from the cold. And that was odd, too—the older he became, the more he detested being in pain, being cold... He didn't know why, either. Was he getting too comfortable? Lazy? Or was it just because it was difficult for his fragile mind to handle?

He shook his head to himself as he headed up to the shore, Eli close behind. The water receded, from his shoulder to his belly to his knees, hocks, and finally, when it simply cradled his fetlocks he stepped out of it and onto the grassy bank. It was cold up here, too, the air leeching warmth from his wet skin.

Couldn't it ever be easy?

A snort left his dark nostrils as she said that, yes, he was living up to her stories—and well, maybe he was? He was pale, he was tall, he was graceful, he was .. scarred? Did that count? He guessed that as long as she knew nothing of him, he could live up to her stories.

As she took the time to take a look at her own reflection Mauja stepped away a few paces, into a larger patch of sunlight, and gave himself a vigorous shake. “I do feel slightly more presentable,” and one of his ears tipped back, before he turned his head to peer at her. She, too, had moved into the light, and it struck deep glints in her wet coat. The dapples were much clearer, and her pale face seemed to shine in the sunlight. His gaze swept over her once, from the tip of her pink muzzle to the ends of her long, wet tail, and as he did so, he wondered why he did it—why had it felt like an invitation, a subtle encouragement, to look at her?

Slightly puzzled by himself he found himself pacing a little closer at her question. Was it a trick question? Was it—uhm, was it even more encouragement to look at her?

But why?

He always felt awkward when someone studied him, looked at him more than in passing or just to skim the details of his body. Was her question genuine, did she just want a second opinion on if she'd missed some dirt, or—did she like having his blue eyes upon herself? "Mmh," he murmured, feeling a little diminished beside her. She was radiant, and the water having soaked through her coat simply made her colors richer—Mauja was used to feeling moderately pretty, but with his unflattering shade of wet-gray he felt sorely outshined. "You've got some dirt behind your ear."

And it was true, there was a small patch of dried sweat and dust and grime, but he wasn't at all sure what to do about it. Help her get it off? The idea was daunting, nearly frightening, as if touching her was some kind of transgression.

[ @Eliaren | If you don't want to be dirty behind the ear let me know and I'll edit xD ]

Mauja

the white queen

"Oh," she muttered softly, twisting her head in an attempt to see where this patch she had missed was. It was a spot that she couldn't even see, just out of reach behind her ear. Eli shook her head in apparent frustration at having missed the spot. Although, maybe if she hadn't asked him, she wouldn't have known it was there. It wouldn't have bothered her if she hadn't known. If.

Given her situation, there was no one else to ask for assistance. Her face felt hot. "Would you mind helping me out? I can't reach it." Was it stupid of her to ask?

Two sanguine orbs scanned his face for a moment, trying, searching for emotion on his face. He was incredibly difficult to read. It made her a little uncomfortable, a little worried even. She liked to know what went on in there, between synapses in that vast galaxy within the skull known as the brain. What would mind reading be like? Eli knew she could never read minds. It would also be quite horrible, come to think of it. She imagined so many little squeaky voices thundering in her cranium, babbling on and on, threatening to implode her fine structure. If she didn't die from irritation first, that was. There were so many things she wished to know and learn, but at the same time there were things best kept undiscovered.

The mahogany-and-cream woman could never make up her mind. Particularly when it came to what she wanted. Either way, she found it difficult to be in constant question of what he was thinking. She was just.. so unsure. And maybe nervous. There was a certain element of mystery about this man who called himself Mauja. Even dressed in his soaked-gray hide, he was standing tall and regal before her. Eli found herself drawn to his aura of mystery. She knew nothing about him, but she wanted to (did she really? or was she just desperate and alone..). Where did he make his home in such an enchanting land? One thing was for sure: he lived up to and surpassed her expectations of unicorns. They were supposed to live, to exist, only in one's fantasizing mind. Fairytales. She had always thought of horned creatures, unicorns, as such. Now she believed. She believed more than ever. Every time her gaze fell upon the spiral on his brow her heart skipped a beat.

Slowly, Eli felt her thoughts relapse. She wondered if her curiosity about Mauja inconvenienced him at all. He didn't seem to be inconvenienced. Maybe he didn't mind. Maybe he was used to it. Or flattered - maybe he was flattered. Or did she annoy him? Were her words too much, or nothing at all? She absolutely hated to be a bother. Her mind always went back and forth like this, and she hated it. It stressed her out. What good did so much thinking do, anyway? Not a damn thing. She decided to feel and not to think.

Damp strands of mane swaying in the wind, drifting across her front. As it began to dry, the long locked frizzed up a bit, sticking out in various directions. She tossed her head, attempting to bat the loose pieces away from her face and shift her forelock out of her eyes. The dappled mare stood before the sparsely spotted stallion, not lifting her eyes from his finely carved features. The sun beat down on her lithe frame, lifting the water from her coat and mane and restoring it's velvety texture. The end of her tail trailed behind her, pink tresses lightly stroking the ground.

but somewhere here in between the city walls of dyin' dreams

She was—and curse him for thinking it—but she was cute. In a sort of youthful, unapologetic herself way, a sharp contrast to his relative stoicism. It was refreshing, a reminder that not everything in life had to pass through a filter (censure, if you will). Stars knew he had spent much too long guiding his emotions, his thoughts, his being into a narrow pass, placing ice upon ice upon ice until there was little left but cold, callous rationality, sharp as a knife's edge. Anything to do with his heart, his genuine wishes, hate and anger and joy bundled up indiscriminately into the same packet neatly labeled 'irrationality', simply got stuck on the inside, while only logic slipped past and made it onto his tongue.

It was true that he still, subconsciously, filtered his expressions; his eyes were almost a little bland in their neutrality, flitting between that icy, guarded gaze and open curiosity, but beyond that? His smiles were rare these days, small and subtle, his stance composed.

But he was far, far from the Frostheart he had once been; there were little glimpses of him beneath all that ice, more life seeping through the cracks in the glacial armor. As much as being frozen over had protected him it had also destroyed him, and in the wake of all the fire having swept through his life he just didn't know who he was anymore—because he had never allowed himself to find out.

So just something as simple as that—the frustrated way she cast her head about, trying to spot the spot (heh), made his lips curve into a faint smile. Of course, she couldn't see it, but it didn't stop her from trying, and after a second or so a soft laugh made its way out of his throat. It was just—just that feeling in his chest, like he had been flying, as if some of the untouched purity of her emotions made it over into him, loosening up some of the tension..

"Here," he simply said, gently, moving a little closer. It felt odd. Not wrong odd just, odd-odd. Plain unusual, but then again, saving Brisa from the pool had been unusual too. Heck, most things these days were, since he had just thrown caution to the wind and started being. So, he tried to not think too hard about it as his plush muzzle reached out to bump against her neck, just below the ear. This close, she smelled overpoweringly of sunshine and water. It wasn't unpleasant. In fact, it was a pleasing smell. Sun and water were nice things.

The strangest thing about grooming someone else wasn't the bizarre intimacy of it, though—the strangest thing was that he had nothing but memory to measure the force of his teeth with, and not the single clue how sensitive she was. What if what he thought was a nice scratch was like biting her with razor sharp teeth? Ah, well, fuck it. He tried to be gentle as his teeth moved against the dirty patch, raking the dust out of it and pressing against the skin beneath in waves. It tasted like earth and sweat. It wasn't entirely unpleasant, but not particularly pleasant either, though, he supposed earth was kind of nice because it was a very rich scent—taste—thing.

After a moment he pulled his head back. The disturbed patch was, naturally, a little damp, but nothing like the rest of her. With an oddly self-conscious grunt he reached out to smooth the hairs down with his soft nose, before stepping back again. "Better. Say, uh..." and his tail flicked wetly around his hocks, as if it and his words could somehow distract her from the fact that he had just been rubbing his teeth against her neck, "what brings you to Helovia?"

[ @Eliaren ]

Mauja

the white queen