It was taking far longer than she had predicted.

After a restless night rendered both she and her young Zephyr friend already quite worn out, the sheer barrage of heat did nothing but exaggerate the one-winged mare’s exhaustion. She had committed herself to a morning spring clean- ridding their den of all the withered, long-dead flowers and grasses which had remained the length of their absence; and cleansing the space of all the other litter which had been swept in by the favourite sea breezes of both Frostfall and Birdsong (right now she wished immensely for such a wind to sweep this wretched day clear of Tallsun’s obnoxious heat). Such cleansing was made more complicated by that lack of air movement actually, because the discarded waste would sit about until the passing of the season, should Africa not remove it entirely from the area- and she did not favour clutter.
There was much to do, the nest’s lining of intricately aligned, shed winter coat and moulted ebony feathers needed to be reset also and that, she knew with a profound sigh, was no easy task easy.

It was break time.

She had had enough for now and slipped out from the dimly lit hot-box den into the weight of the sunlight. Squinting through thick, black lashes; teeth clenched around the bouquet of sorry old flower matter, she looked for the small avian form of her companion.
Silas had been acting so peculiarly since his return from an earlier scouting mission- or so she enjoyed calling his self-important jaunts, but with their limited ability to converse and understand one another, she had just put his behaviour down to lack of sleep and being bothered by summer’s relentlessness. She could not see him nearby- neither nestled into the jagged cliff of limestone rising above their den, nor hovering anywhere close. Africa muttered beneath her breath, not because she was upset with his in attendance, more so because she was missing his company- theirs was a phenomenal bond and her heart often ached for his return while he was fulfilling his unusual hobby.

So Africa set off through the sickening desert heat, north-east- away from the mainstream life of her family to discard her rubbish somewhere by the perimeter of their homeland.

A sound; a bellowing voice, one like no one Africa could recall hearing before, rolled across the burning red sands of her home. She lifted her bouncing head swiftly; pausing to listen, ears dancing to attendance instantly as she turned in the direction from which the sound had come. Silas, having felt the surge of sudden alertness in his beloved’s young soul swept around in a large circle to return towards the young mare’s position- far above, so that his flickering black shadow exaggerated his avian size across her as he found her.

The stallion’s call held an urgency that Africa could not resist, and the young mare released her stash rashly as she swung around, breaking into a brisk canter towards him- the soaking sweat lathering where-ever her coat rubbed together.
With the help of Silas scanning the area from is advantageous, lofty position, Africa was able to find the soldier relatively quickly, but as she drew to a sliding halt a small way from where he was, she found herself trembling with heat-exhaustion and weariness in general. It was not often that she ran slap-dash through Tallsun, let alone the desert itself. Another had already found him- the mare whom she had met in the Threshold only days before- Ilacta.
She recognized the soldier fairly easily, the antlers swaying atop the steady swing of his mighty skull not something easily forgotten and with a natural tenderness to her sweet voice she called forward between exaggerated breaths- “Is everything ok?” So too did the young dappled mare greet their most recently joined member, with a smile as bright as she could manage given her discomfort.