O N N I
back then our bones wouldn't break, always fighting to stay awake.

The Ice King remained silent while Onni mused to herself, staring out over the sand as they came to a stop, seeing nothing but a deep orange and the blue sky above for as long as she could see. Perhaps, faintly in the distance, was the glimmer of the ocean that once reigned here. Squinting her eyes against the harsh light, Onni raises one of her wings up to offer as convenient shade from the sun above, looking further, thinking with an absent expression about Mauja's predicament. The mare had not entirely decided whether he was alive or dead, though she was wavering closer on the brim of his death. Ghosts did not explain his confusion, his separate Helovia. The difference of their worlds no longer felt like one of mortality.

A shimmer catches her attention briefly as the bird upon his back flies up, glittering out of her vision as though she ascended to the heavens. Mauja seems less concerned, so Onni has a feeling his companion has not disappeared in his world. As she stares up at the azure sky, trying to find a hint of the owl, the masculine voice begins to speak. Instantly, the painted mare's pale face turns back toward him, a smile on her face. "Being quite certain of my authenticity, I'd hardly call you mad." She laughs, her voice like a bell, inhabiting the mirth that the Ice King lacked. The heart of golden light she wore in her chest was never one to hold worries tightly, though it would be difficult to say she was unaffected. All of her losses were carried with her, and her griefs were close under the surface. However, as long as the sun rose in the morning, her days were bright. There was no need to dwell on the dark corners of her life.

Her smile stays in place as a glimmering blue eyes opens to her, but she was not prepared for the words which rolled nonchalantly out of Mauja's mouth. Surprised, Onni turns her head back behind her, seeing nothing but the desert floor and the Dragon's Blood. "I did not!" she says, thinking herself tricked by a cunning master. Feeling like a foolish filly for looking behind her, Onni extends a chocolate wing in his direction, finding that her feathers have no purchase on his body. Her jaw slackens slightly as she looks partially through his barrel at the red sand, immediately remembering that they are not actually together. I cannot touch him, she thinks sadly. Eyes falling as her wing droops, trying to hold herself from being too shaken.

She already knew Mauja was not here. This is not news. This is expected.

Their conversation becomes more serious, and Onni looks forward once more, listening carefully. He was trapped, unable to puzzle out the reasoning. The Frostheart had hardly been a friend of Onni. They were mere acquaintances, but here, standing in the desert that was her home, the tobiano felt as though they were close friends, speaking openly with one another. Kri would leave Mauja with no aid in whatever false Helovia he had landed in, but Onni could do no such thing. The healer did not have the resources to decipher where he was, nor how he got there, but the mare was fairly certain the Gods would. Nodding to herself, Onni decides that her next destination will be toward the Veins. Sitting passively by while Mauja was trapped was not an option.

Focused on her inner decision, the mare almost misses his description of the other Helovia. Glancing back over her shoulder once more, seeing no forest, Onni tries to imagine his world. The dark shapes in her vision, had they been trees? Smiling, the mare concedes defeat. "So I did walk through a tree," she says. Laughing, quite heartily, before looking back at him. "That must have been a shock." Her eyes look forward, toward what was an ocean for him, no smell of salt drifting to her nostrils. The sandy floor could easily have sat underneath a body of water, but whatever plague of heat befell the land would have discarded the seas as well as the trees. Knowing that if she walked straight long enough, the edge of the peninsula would be met, the healer nods. He was still in the Dragon's Throat. "The ocean is still a bit of a hike for me."

Mauja the Frostheart was not dead. He was just many centuries too early for their meeting today.

"I want to speak with the Gods," the mare says quite firmly before looking at him. "Perhaps they will know how to return you to our Helovia." The deities of this land were his only hope of returning, she felt. Onni could only believe that they would be able to rescue him.