Whatever had overtaken his pet seemed to have passed. And in a way, Mauja envied Monster and how he could shut down his drives at a spoken command. One moment he'd been willing to court Smoke, and the next, he was okay with just standing there, watching with that primal, unhinged emotion rolling around the rims of his eyes, like fire just waiting to erupt into a bright blaze. If the Ice King possessed such iron control over his urges himself... Then, perhaps, he'd never have placed little crystals of ice in Keahi's bloodstream, or planted his seed in Lotus' fertile womb. In so many things he had nearly complete control, down to the seemingly subconscious twitches of his hide or the flick of his tail, but those urges - those hormones - were not his to control, or so it seemed. So how come such an instinct-driven, feral beast as his pet could quench them at a single word? Mauja took his gaze off the mysterious stallion, returning it to Smoke, the wild rose seeking to, for a moment, grow in the loam of his Edge.

He simply shrugged at her comment. To him, it was a thing of respect not to go into someone's home - respect for the herd, the leader, their paths. What if he sheltered individuals who had suffered greatly from war, and suffered from great trauma at merely seeing an equine? As it was now, it wasn't the truth, but you never knew. In a way, it also had to do with safety. Monster knew that those who smelled of the Edge were off his drip-drop list, but what if Monster had come upon Smoke alone, and had felt the need to murder her instead of sleep with her? What if the Throat and Foothills harbored such unhinged creatures, too? (If so, he had to steal them, and make a collection out of them.) Still - this mare took Monster's attention with an air of bemusement, but he had a hard time picturing Kri just laughing at it, or Gossamer not flipping. For those reasons, he was lucky it was Smoke who had come here, despite her blatant trespass.

Mauja inclined his head slightly as she begun to speak, acknowledging her apology.. or intent to apologize; did this mean that she did, or only had intended to, but wouldn't? He'd heard about the hostility with which d'Artagnan and Kou had been greeted, and in a way, thought it was such a pity the Doctor had taken it upon himself to trespass - but even as their mission was stated, they'd been disbelieved, treated roughly. She spoke of racism and of someone called Paladin. He knew the name from d'Artagnan and Descaro's rundown of their mission with Nyra in Isilme, and guessed that it was the very thing of which she spoke. Still, he could hardly tell her that the Moon Doctor had participated in such an event, could he? Instead, he feigned a look of woeful weariness, ears flitting bad slowly. He looked softer this way, sad even. Racism, racism, racism... They tossed the word around without ever confirming their belief by asking him! He let his blue eyes slide up to hers, thinking that perhaps it was for the better that d'Artagnan hadn't met her then. His intention had been, mostly, what they had said. But then again... he tried to keep his tongue in check when he was outside of the Edge on missions, so if they ran across each other here? Mightn't be ideal.

"Racism," he growled around the rope. "My ideals. Invasions." Silky mane danced around his head as he shook it. "Sometimes I wonder if there's something about me that I don't know, some secret that everyone else knows." In all honesty, he was getting tired of being doubted wherever he went, as if the gods were playing some joke on him and sowing distrust in the hearts of everyone. "There's several of the equines and pegasi in Helovia with whom I am on friendly terms, Indy among them.. individuals who I hope I will one day dare call friends. Me and mine, we live here in the Edge - those who wish to live among others are free to do so in your Foothills and the Throat, so who am I to deny those of my kind who feel slightly less comfortable around the other species a home?" Mauja himself was one of them, and if you had the ability to look within his heart, you'd know he was racist to the bone, but it was nothing he'd ever spoken out loud to anyone beyond the trusted Edge racists. That they would carry word back to Smoke was so unfathomable that he counted on it never happening. "To be completely honest, I'm tired of this distrust. My ideals? No one's ever bothered to confirm it with me. I'm not kidnapping daughters and raising an army to invade, or preaching about supremacy, am I? I have offered peace to both herds, and yet I feel as if I'm always looking over my shoulder, waiting for yet another horse to spring at me and call me racist." Bitterness crept into his voice as he spoke, but it never bordered on accusing. Somehow, it felt good to spill all of this to Smoke, in the hopes that she had enough sense to understand that they saw "all unicorn herd" and instantly stamped him racist, without bothering to confirm it first. It was downright unfair, and if he could do the slightest thing to quench some of their suspicions, he'd do it. He just hoped she wasn't as suspicious as Kri was, that she wouldn't decide to distrust him just because he was a white unicorn. After all, he gave nothing away as to what he really thought about Smoke and her hornless kin.

"Sorry," he mumbled, looking slightly abashed. "I guess it's been eating at me for some time."

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