Slush clung in a very unattractive manner to his hooves, filling them up. When he'd trekked north in Korra's steps, sometimes it had built up to stilts he'd had to bash off against the tundra beneath. At least something hard remained beneath the melting cover of snow, the permafrost untouched by - and resisting - the Sun's wrath. The moon had once warned him that snow melts in summer, and while the clingy, sloshy stuff up here proved her words right, the cryotic soil beneath proved him right: winter never releases its hold. It would always come again, and even in the heat of summer it bit the earth with sharp, relentless fangs, clinging, whispering of sleep and soft cold. He smiled slightly, to himself, redirecting his gaze to the ground from where it had previously roamed Korra's intricate scarring. When the world was melting around you, you had to find something solid to stand upon - and, he guessed, the same was true for strange meetings. If he spent all his time being worried and on edge, what would it bring him? Nothing but trouble. Sometimes you had to dare to lean back and just see where things went. Absentmindedly he scraped away at the slush, baring a hint of tundra beneath. One striped, frosted hoof touched it reverently. Why was the Edge not located up here, in this blessed land of snow and ice?

"Attempting to escape the heat," delivered in her soft vocals, but the exuberance and vibrancy she normally possessed seemed to be lacking. By his side, Korra promised her return to the Edge, and Mauja felt a twinge of guilt at her words. Had his needless fretting caused this? Would he force her from her respite by being like a silly old mother? It was not what he had wanted, just - to know that she was alright, where she was, if her blood was still inside her body... The King heaved a heavy sigh, white smoke curling up from his nostrils as he did. What was he doing out here, causing misery and god knows what else? Lena looked like a chastised puppy at times, and Korra like she was ready to do murder.

Well, she always looked like that.

Lena's suggestion earned her a flicker of his ears, and when she started to move around, his blue eyes sharpened. Keen gaze fell on her, interest in his eyes. What was she doing? Was she..? Something lit up in his eyes as the snow flew through the air - something light and youthful, joyous, amazed; with reflexes he thought long forgotten he ducked, an easy laugh spilling from his mouth. So long since he'd played in the snow, so long since he'd met someone who remembered how to do it! Lena scooped up more snow on her horn, flinging it back over her head, a splotch of white on her rich bay hide. Beside him Korra trudged off a ways, but he was too busy staring at Lena with wonder and mischief in his eyes to pay the garron much attention. Was it just on a whim that she did this, or had she come from someplace cold and beautiful, too? Had she frolicked with fillies and colts her age, dancing under northern lights and chucking snow at each other in the crisp, cold light of a pale sun?

Noise intruded enough on him to turn his head in Korra's direction .. just in time to get a antlerful of snow in the face. Spluttering, he jerked his head up; the slush slid down his face, cool against his pale skin. With a snort he shook it, tossing remnants of the clingy stuff off. Still, it warmed his heart to see that smirk-of-a-laugh on Korra's face, and with a grunt he turned his hind end in her direction. Leaning up on his forelegs, he swept his back hooves through the snow, kicking it up towards her.