Autumn was coming, cool, crisp winds to tug playfully at his mane and chase away the warmth during the long evenings. The sun still lingered to light the nights, and sheltered in their valley to the north the unicorns of the Basin were protected from the oncoming cold. Hot springs beneath their earth warmed it, made it green when all around was bleak white or the deep dark of the mountain crags. And the summers — with distaste he remembered the last one, when trees had withered, grass wilted and dried, crumbled to dust, how brooks and rivers had run dry. He was surprised they all hadn't sweated out the last of their fluids and become dried-out husks like the rest of the world. But the summer in the Basin had been pleasantly cool, always a shadowed cave to hide in from the sun's stark rays, and the winds blowing off the snowcapped mountains had certainly kept the temperature pleasant. All things considered, the Aurora Basin was not a bad place, but it was not home in his heart.

Back among the Threshold trees again..back south, where the trees were green. The few ones standing in the Basin were either deciduous, or hardy birch already turning the color of flames. Winter came early up north.

And sometimes, winter came south; Mauja, regal and graceful, was draped in the finest of snowy white, frost upon his horn and within his cool blue eyes. The trees rose around him, and once it had been familiar, a comfort, but used to the open expanse of the Steppe and the hidden vale, he felt confined, caged.. trapped. His alert gaze roved through the gaps, every sense alert, ears and nose twitching to each sound and smell. Of course, the predators of Helovia often chose weaker prey, but ever since the encounter with the giant wolf-beast, he'd been wary of forests. Flicking his tail, Mauja sighed and moved on, deeper. Paranoia only restricted you, yet it was sometimes hard to shake it off his back.

For some time he'd been heading towards someone, a mare by the scent of it, a newcomer. Though he could detect no smell of feathers, he didn't know whether or not she bore a horn upon her head. If she didn't.. well, he'd just smile politely and be on his way. And if she did.. his eyes narrowed a fraction, hooves finding a path through the winding trees. Glacial, but soft like snow all the same, Mauja swept through the forest until he found her: regal of build, bay in color, her mane and tail full and dark. She seemed to have a sound body, even though he thought she had the haunted look many newcomers had. Red bordered her eye, and rising proudly from her forehead was a horn fading to a black tip.

He whickered, the noise mostly just a rumble in his chest, as he did not wish to startle her should she somehow have failed to see his white body against the green backdrop. He stuck out like a sore thumb in these southern areas. "Welcome to Helovia, sister," he called when a little closer, drifting forward like snow in the wind until he stood some two yards off, his head tilted slightly to the side and his forelock sliding off it to hang like a veil before his right eye. "I am Mauja, of the Basin. What do you seek here?" A new start? A home? A home among unicorns? Peace, love, war, death, life, power? Few seldom spouted nonsense in response to his question, the one he asked them all as they came in here, but someone had to be the first, hadn't they?

The small smile he usually wore curved his dark lips, something warm in his blue eyes as he waited for her reasons — if she had any at all. Some just happened to come here, but they came to Helovia and no further. Only the ocean lay beyond their other border.

She wasn't going to just stand there, and watch him approach with those steely eyes. Once she'd realized he was heading for her, that he wasn't just passing by, she moved to meet him, but in a way so different from his own approach. Where he was regal, somber, she was dancing, and something in the sway of her body, the light touch of her stride, reminded him of cats, and of Keahi, that black whore who had set his home on fire. Dimly he was aware of Arah being nearby, but his attention remained on the bay mare, the subtle twists of her walk. Somehow, he had the feeling she was hunting him, testing him, slipping forward like a cougar in the shadows, waiting for the deer to bolt.

He wouldn't, though. He wouldn't run from her.

She halted, and Arah drew out of the shadows. For a moment, Mauja's pale head turned, his blue eyes seeking out her shape, tracing the familiar contour, the stretch of milky white hide across her lean muscles. It always amazed him how her hair grew so long, and why she didn't cut it off in frustration. Didn't it get tangled? Did she ever trip on it? A slight smile played on his face as he inclined his head, returning her greeting, and then his attention shifted back to the newcomer. She spoke, and his 'brows furrowed slightly. Many had been torn from their families, or watched them die; some had simply lost them, or left. Slowly he blinked, watching as the mare's eyes grew cold and distant.. he thought she withdrew from the pain, the memories, away from hope and expectations. "I'm sorry for your loss," he interjected quietly after Arah had first spoken, then fell silent as the antlered mare introduced herself, and resisted the urge to arch a 'brow at her. A family? She certainly hadn't tried cuddling up to Deimos, he thought wryly. But then again, it was true what she said — Deimos might not open show affection to anyone, but Mauja suspected there was more than sadism behind his support.. more than mere cruelty behind the General's patrols and captures of dangerous creatures.

Somewhere, deep within, Mauja suspected Deimos actually had a heart.

A small smile twisted his lips again, hearing Arah boldly declare they were always accepting new members. Had he been the type to cling to his power like a drowning man clinging to floating debris, perhaps he would've scolded her for it — as it was, he merely reinforced it with a slight nod. It was true, in a sense, and Mauja felt no need to attract attention to the fact that he was.. what? Psyche's not-entirely-official co-leader?

Arah fell silent and he felt no need to add anything to what she had said. After all, it would be redundant to extend the invitation once more. Instead, his head resumed its curious tilt, and when he spoke it was in that gentle, open way of his, the kind of voice that suggested you could confess all sorts of dark sins and he would not judge. "What is your name?"

( gonna make this short and sweet and then start something in the Basin! )

The silence held for a while, but Mauja was used to it by now. The need to think, to ponder, to weigh the options and consult heart, soul and mind — they all did it, coming here. At least she had only one offer to consider, and not four, as it sometimes were in the worst cases. He was glad it was only Arah who had come to join her, and not some other creature from another herd. Each time they won a unicorn he felt a stab of darkness in his heart, like an infection spreading from the raw wound he still bore from the defeat nearly a year ago. Some things time didn't mend. Some things time made just a hell of a lot worse.

But today was a day of luck, as the mare replied to Arah, accepting her invitation, at pretty much the same time Mauja thought to ask for her name. She seemed to notice, but he wasn't sure if she cared or not — he didn't, at least. A faint smile curved his lips, the light in his eyes showing that he didn't mind, didn't think less of her for it. Arielle, or Elle, she called herself, and Arah was quick to greet her again. Mauja dipped his snowy head and took a single step forward, before reaching out his muzzle to brush it against her dark one in a gesture of acceptance. "Glad to have you, Elle," he told her warmly. "Let us go home, then." And without further ado, Mauja backed away, turned around, flicked his tail and began to head northwest, making sure to avoid coming too close to the Foothills border.

[ the end! <3 ]