He had been hoping that showing his gentler nature, the side of him which cared, would make her suffering easier to handle. He'd been hoping that, by giving in to him, she had known what she was facing, and would accept it with the grace of one who had chosen not to fight, and that she would understand his respect of her choice and thus his decision to try and make her stay as pleasant as he dared make it.

How very wrong he was.

Her snort made him raise his head and turn it slightly to the side to look at her. She was clearly not taking their trip into the winter world well, tossing her head and flattening her ears, obviously wanting him to know she didn't give a rat's ass about his advice. Mauja stifled the urge to slick his own ears to his neck, and just heaved a small, quiet sigh and kept going. If she wanted to be a bother, that was her problem, though it would've been a lot more pleasant for all parties involved if she'd appreciated that he was trying to protect her. Or at least, had been intending to... he wasn't quite sure what he wanted anymore, with the memory of anger so close and uncomfortable against him, yet feeling spiteful and hurt that she clearly cared so little for her own safety, and his attempts to shield her. Maybe she was just stupid and didn't understand, but that hardly made it better. Setting his jaw and steeling his gaze he paused to wait for her to pass into the cave, and watched as her golden back passed beneath his head.

With one last glance at the barren landscape he followed her into the rocky shelter, giving himself a slight shake as the warmer air pressed in on him. A little further in the sound of Angora's hooves on rock altered dramatically and she spun around, hissing at him. Unimpressed, Mauja flicked one black-rimmed ear backwards and cocked one hind leg. So this was how she wanted to do it? "Very well," he said through gritted teeth, feeling the most curious sensation, of his heart simultaneously cracking and howling for blood. Sure, he'd been worked up, a bit mad, ready to fight, but he'd given her the bloodless defeat she'd asked for.. and then he had been nice, and polite, and she acted like a bitchy little kid who could frighten him. Not a iota of appreciation for his trying to keep her arrival unnoticed by the Plague, and with the memory of her venomous voice ringing in his ears he decided that his pity had run out and he'd rather dump her at Crowley than just have a quiet, serious chat with her.

Remind me, he told Irma, something in his renewed, controlled anger transferring to the bond so the command was almost savage. To make the best of it whenever I get captured. Out in the sky she gave an indignant cry, before following his second request to go fetch Psyche. If the Dark Empress thought it a suitable punishment to become the plaything of Crowley, he'd gladly let Angora go and get thrashed.

In the cave, Mauja pinned his cold gaze upon her, all the warmth fled from his countenance and leaving only the marble statue behind. "I wanted Arah, but as you didn't, that's settled," he said in a cold voice after a while, trusting Irma to find Psyche and convince her to come here. "Now, I just want you to stay where you are and wait." His cool gaze narrowed a fraction, as if he dared to her to make a dash for freedom or some other foolish, desperate act. Her poisonous tongue had sealed her fate, and he was not going to let her get away.

Mauja Frosthjärta