Mauja the FrostHeart
ice cold man watches earth die, eternal winter takes its reign

He'd grown still again, like a statue some God had carelessly thrown down to earth to perch here, staring out at the sea, as if waiting for someone, something. His pale eyes were fixed on the horizon, body rigid, unmoving except for the faint breeze which stirred his mane and tail, tugging at the pale strands and drawing them out towards the sea. Lost in contemplation he likely would've have heard d'Artagnan's approach, but the wind brought the Doctor's scent to him. For half a heartbeat, it bothered him, to have his solitude broken - but that was a useless thought, and as quickly as it had come, it fell away. d'Artagnan was a trusted member, a friend, someone he desperately wanted to be able to trust in, yet never fully dared. He didn't know which it was he didn't want to risk; the herd's safety, or his own heart? These days it seemed like Mauja would rather push someone aside to spare himself the potential pain, but... There was one he could not push aside, his own blood, Snö. From one point of view, his Achilles' heel. From another, his daughter. Would any of his unseen enemies be vile enough to use her against him?

And if they did, what would he do?

The Doctor chuckled behind him, and his ears flicked back, drinking in the rich voice. A grin split Mauja's face, but he didn't turn to face the Doctor just yet. Instead, he proffered him a splendid view of his backside, some loose rocks flying off the edge when he moved, disappearing soundlessly into the blue void below. "Do me the honors, will you?" he responded, twitching his tail once. There was nothing beneath his lowered muzzle, just empty space - and far below, water, waves rolling in relentlessly. One day when he was long gone the sea would conquer the land and nothing would remain. He guessed he was glad he'd be dead when it happened, so he wouldn't have to see his precious cliff defeated. Mauja hovered there a moment longer, caught in the mock sketch, then snorted loudly and pulled his head up. He doubted d'Artagnan actually would push him, but best not tempt fate, hm? Sturdy, frost-covered hooves moved backwards, taking the body with them, until he stood at a safer distance from the brink, and nearly beside d'Artagnan. A warm smile played on his face, a fondness in his eyes, as he drank in the Moon Doctor's appearance. The rich red seemed muted without the sun to light it up, and through his glass horns the sky became distorted, a myriad of tiny lights stretched out to strange proportions. The heat was affecting them all, but he seemed to be holding up well enough.

"Tasteless jokes aside... I'm not about to leap off a cliff and die. It'd just be horribly counterproductive." He grimaced. Death was nothing he wished for, so why was he flirting with it all the time? Did he want to be a martyr, a masochist? Die for some stupid reason just because he couldn't help it? No! Mauja wanted to live, bring something great to pass, and he could hardly plot the rise of the unicorns from his grave - unless someone resurrected him... .. he came to the conclusion that his issue stemmed from a sorely misguided sense of being immortal, indestructible. "And I'm not going to let Deimos steal my soul either," he added after a small pause, tossing it in there for good measure. Kou had nearly flipped when he'd touched him, and the King had no desire to let the news that he'd touched him again reach her. The latest time, Deimos had warned him off by giving him a taste of his powers. He'd probably be more cautious the next time he met the beast. "So how's it hanging, Doctor?" On a whim, the King leaned in closer, giving d'Artagnan a playful, but sort of rough, shove with his shoulder. They weren't close enough to the edge for it to be dangerous, but he was tired of being serious, tired of holding everything in, keeping the mask on; he didn't need to release it by a bloodbath, he could just.. let the control slip, feel a little young again, rub shoulders with a friend and rant his ears off about idiots. Or something.