Beside him, Lena seemed to grow dimmer, fainter, just like she had that first time in the Edge - like, like a wilting flower when lacking sun, as if they'd done something to hurt her. Concern sprang up inside his heart, worry seeping further into his eyes as he tilted his head in her direction. She remained silence in the face of his question, and only when Korra responded did he realize that the normally vibrant mare hadn't picked up on that it was aimed at her. He'd tried to involve her in the conversation, force her into it but it hadn't worked. It made him feel a tad guilty; had she thought he was ignoring her, trying to put his shoulder against her and locking her out? Never! But how could he possibly remedy it? Korra's words rung so true and he gave his head the smallest of shakes, and heaved a resigned sigh. "Obviously I do," he murmured, and for a moment had the feeling that he was trapped in the middle of two entities that wanted nothing more than to run away. Korra, because "socialization" and "Korra" seldom fit the same sentence, and Lena... because she seemed sad, yet she remained, just less vibrant, as if something sad lurked just beneath her lenses.

Still she moved, to get into Korra's field of vision, and Mauja took half a step backwards, wishing that he, too, could just run away and pretend this awkward meeting had never happened. Instead he remained, hooves planted firmly in the slush, watching, listening, as Lena spoke the savage's name. It sounded softer coming from her lips, yet not a girl name - he wasn't sure if it pleased Korra or not, but she returned the favor with the name-saying. Lena's, in her primitive, rough voice, sounded harsher, harder, just like Mauja's soft name always did. For once, he wasn't sure what to say, but hesitation was not what had brought him where he was. "Why were you out here, Lena?" he asked again, smooth voice sliding out with ease, without a single inflection to make it an accusation. It was an honest, earnest question, because this time he didn't want her misunderstanding it as aimed for Korra. And at the same time, he wondered what to do to make the three of them have a conversation, and not the pair of them have two separate conversations with him. Perhaps he shouldn't have butted in, but it was too late now; his gaze fell on Korra's scars, tracing their intricate patterns across her body and the way her tail slapped against her hocks and flanks. She didn't like this situation, and he'd never asked of her to socialize, even less be good at it. Still, he appreciated that she tried, and put out his muzzle against her shoulder in a silent gesture of comfort and appreciation. This day was just haywire, and this meeting likely wouldn't fix it.