Mauja the FrostHeart
ice cold man watches earth die, eternal winter takes its reign

Tall, proud and burdened, the King stood alone. His laugh echoed off into silence, mirrored by the Moon - only the trees whispered their anguished pleas as a stray bank of fog brushed past his body, curling around his features before continuing towards its doom the Edge. It was further out, not within his field of vision from here, but he knew it like he knew his own body. How many times hadn't he toed the precipice despite the heavy fog? It was a calming and focusing activity, despite the dangers involved - or maybe, because of them? Just as the FrostHeart thought that maybe it was the right thing to do even tonight, scent and sound of something pleasant was brought to him. His 'brows rose in surprise. Psyche had been quite busy with their child the past time, and the Plague had been standing still. It soured his mood only somewhat, but Psyche... While she didn't have the mind-boggling effect of Lotus, he was rarely opposed to seeing her.

"Mauja."

He turned his pale head around, a wry grin plastered on his muzzle. "Why hello there Sir," he greeted her playfully, noting that she was somewhat alone. He guessed the foggy disturbance some twenty or thirty yards behind her was their daughter. She'd catch up soon enough. Have I been neglecting them, or have they been neglecting me? He thrust the worry aside and backed a single step to reach her, neck arching as he bumped his muzzle against hers. She'd been around him long enough to read his body, despite the few clues he gave, but Mauja laughing in the dead of night without company usually indicated that not everything was as it should... And the question came. Mauja gave her nape a playful nip and opened his jaws to respond when he became aware of Hellena. She was.. ancient? He wasn't quite sure what she was, but she was old, and she was strange - she was like a unicorn from a legend, and not one that walked the earth today. She was worthy of his respect, for she wasn't someone he had chosen, per se. She'd just been included in the bargain of the Edge.

He'd run across her enough times to not be put off by her absentminded look and soft, thoughtful speech, as if she wasn't quite aware of the fact that she was talking. Mauja didn't let it fool him, though - he was of the opinion that her mind was keen as a blade beneath all the fog. Sometimes he wondered if she was even quite real, or if she walked between two separate worlds, pacing along the border and not belonging in either world. Thinking about it made him slightly uncomfortable though, so instead he just dipped his head in her direction. "What she said," he told Psyche, not taking his curious eyes off the old Seer. "The Sun troubles me." And then he craned his head to see if their child had yet caught up with them. If she was displeased with the lack of foals, well, Mauja at least had been at it. Ulrik was married to his machines, Lotus wasn't really that much into stallions (yet?), and d'Artagnan... He wasn't sure any sane mare would give up her body in the presence of the Doctor.

"There is a child," he said after a moment, looking back at Hellena. "Somewhere in this fog she hides, she plays, will you find her?"

It was a gentle invitation, but he wondered what she'd make of it.