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

She was silent. He berated his romantic notion of god-blessed intervention, but couldn't bring himself to lower his hopeful gaze. Had it truly come to this, that even proud Mauja grasped at straws when faced with the drying, dying world? That even proud Mauja stood and stared at the moon as if he could solve everything by power of will and intent? Surely not. He sighed, and suppressed a shiver. He had since long stopped steaming, and now he was simply cold in the night's embrace, but he was loathe to give even the slightest complaint about it. He preferred being cold over the current state of Helovia, and would pick wading hairless through an ice lake over his current life all the time... If offered the choice. The King sighed again, giving his raised head the tiniest of shakes. She was just a Moon tonight - beautiful and distant.

That's when a new scent struck him, and the tall stallion's head swung down to watch the one who intruded upon his moment of peace. He was surprised to see a small filly, maybe just a few months old, brazenly staring at him from where she stood. The moon offered more then enough light for him to see the main outline of her features - dark coat, pale mane and tail, a horn upon her head. But what caught his attention was the dragon sitting on her back, and the surprise was visible on his face. What the? A hybrid? He wasn't sure how he felt about that. Part of him acknowledged it as an asset, part of him thought about the act that had brought her into being... Mauja was torn between disgust and fascination as the filly approached. She was bold, he had to give her that, or maybe he was just losing his touch and didn't seem quite so imposing and cold anymore. Maybe the Sun had melted his armor. He grinned weakly at that.

He wasn't surprised when she spoke in the slightly jumbled, half-rushed manner of a child - though her words were hardly rushed at all, it was more the way they tumbled out, questions and statements as if she simply spoke whatever popped up in her head. An admirable quality, but something an adult King cannot indulge in. He danced a far more deadly and intricate dance than some other rulers did, and he was always watching his steps. Still, a horned child deserved warmth, and Mauja gave her a fatherly smile despite the fact that he was the FrostHeart. "Guidance, Aylin, guidance," he told her gently, bringing his large head down to fondly bump his muzzle against hers. Hot air blew onto her face, a sign of friendship and kinship, a traditional greeting among horses. Behind him, his silken tail flickered, and he wondered who she was - why she was alone. She carried no herd scent.

"I am Mauja," he added after a small pause, looking up at the sky again. Stars. Moon. Darkness, cool. Everything he loved, everything the Sun hated and thought to ruin. "I was hoping she would be kind tonight, and help me. I'm.. displeased with the Sun's rampage, little moon child." From the corner of his eye he watched the dragon. He ached to ask about it, but it would come later. He couldn't barrage her with a thousand questions, or maybe she would run off, or forget to answer some vital one... Inwardly, he laughed at himself - treating a simple conversation with a filly as if it was a diplomatic venture! "I've come to the conclusion that this foolish war of his will bring us great pain, maybe even death. That we will have to be strong, and follow our own passions and trust our hearts - but can we oppose him? How would we begin? What are we capable of doing, in a war with Gods?" His voice was soft, his smile gentle as he peered at her again. "Forgive a man his rambles, but I don't intend to suffer through this anymore, at least not without fighting. It's just so vast a task that I have no idea where to start."