Time passed in stillness, the sun marking its passage. Heartbeats counted down the time until wake-up, and during the course of the day Mauja shifted repeatedly, resting different legs in turns. At times he nearly dozed, but jerked awake when he realized what he was doing, and returned to his quiet, sweaty vigil. Sometimes the foliage didn't cover him completely, and the unmerciful sun burned into his skin and forced the water out of his body, darkening him with sweat; at other times, he stood in the cool shadows, enjoying a faint breeze. Helovia was dying and no one could do a single thing until Orangemoon, and to put it plainly, that sucked so majorly Mauja wanted to scream.

Noon came and went. Evening approached, and idly he wondered if his "captive" would ever awaken, or if he would remain downed forever, until the blood grew stale in his veins and his body crumbled to dust. Right now it certainly seemed a possibility, and what had begun as a curious undertaking had grown into something that was utterly boring. Only his stubborn pride kept him rooted in the spot, the strange thing locked between his teeth. Boredom nearly made him scream, too, and his gaze roved too often. It took great effort to force it back to the black stallion, and by now he knew every curve and line of his body, the shade of his horn covered by dried blood - Mauja's blood. He grimaced around the rope. Life just sucked, didn't it?

But then, when the sun was setting and blessed darkness falling, the monster at his feet began to stir. An ear twitch, the eyes drifted beneath their lids, and Mauja's lax attention vanished with the wind; every nerve snapped alert, muscles drew taut under his hot skin and his gaze grew sharper. Ears swiveled forward, and expectantly he stared as the shadows grew darker and the stars brighter. Slowly, the silver cloud across his pupil began to form, but it was faint yet, as the moon was not in her full power until later in the night.

His captive stirred, came awake, and with a strangely charming look of disorientation, as if not yet completely awake. The memories of their battle, now long gone, overshadowed it, though, and Mauja remained vigilant, holding on to his rope as the beast spotted him and froze. Stoic, unyielding, he held his gaze and position, watching in silence. Words had previously not seemed to affect the beast, so why speak now? There was no reason, but the way his eyes were glued to Monster's, there was no way he could miss the subtle shift; they were still like molten lava, rolling flames - mindless and intense, vibrant, but there was just.. something. Something shifted, changed, but he couldn't tell what - just that the stallion seemed more.. relaxed? It was the wrong word, but the look in his eyes seemed less aggressive, somehow, as if he saw the world and not just something to destroy. Mauja's head tilted to the side, the frost covering his horn now that the temperature had sunk to a more comfortable range. He didn't know how long they stood or sat there, gazing at each other with the length of the rope between them, but the cloud across his pupil grew stronger as the moon rose.

Finally, the beast spoke, a single word, and the sound of it sent a shiver down Mauja's pale spine. What did it mean? What was he to do? He couldn't speak properly with the rope in his mouth, but didn't dare drop it again, lest the creature attack. With his long rest, the resulting fight would be one thing: long. He wasn't in the mood for it. Tilting one ear backward, Mauja gave the rope a slight tug. He couldn't let this strange, wondrous creature sit on its ass in the Threshold all day.

( reminds me so much of this scene in Spirit, couldn't find an actual screencap of it though xD )