Like a bubble gliding across the surface of the Throat’s tranquil water, Africa’s heart was afloat with renewed hope, and that trademark enthusiasm which seemed always to glisten through her fawn-hued eyes. She had expected the chime of her own approving delight to encourage her peers to raise their voices in a chorus of sorts, to exalt the risen leaders now together, and celebrate the fresh power which would undoubtedly carry their resilient herd into the future. Both within her perceptive mind and far inside the pulse of her passionate heart, the one-winged mare could not find fault in the choice which had been made. She agreed wholeheartedly with the black and white stallion who had never before betrayed the considerable trust placed upon his shoulders- by his home, his family and Africa, herself.
Disappointingly, the herd still gathered around did not join in, and the dapple grey’s heart sank; instead, almost like the heaviness of coastal humidity, she thought she could feel the unanimous discord sweltering between their mostly silent selves. Troubled young eyes sought quickly the expressions of her peers and it became instantly apparent that her excitement for the future of their close-knit family was not shared- at all. They came to settle upon one mare who was the very lightest sort of creamy gold with milky off white eyes, as she began to vent her mind; also perhaps the thoughts of the mulling crowd around her. Africa had not previously seen the speaker; neither before the Endless Night, nor any time recently since returning to the desert, and she listened with quivering, forward resting ears to all that was said.
Quivering velvet-smooth nostrils pinched and flared at the mention of the Resolute- the mare whose curt manner had seemed almost as undiplomatic as the choppy verse of the antler-wearing bay before them. Africa wondered between the differences of each leader, and although Kri indeed spoke with fluid ability, her approach had been not that dissimilar- certainly from the sharp viewpoint of the brooding grey. Actually, she recalled with a brisk snort, the Resolute had made one present this very second cry, on the first, offhand, meeting. It had been that first impression which had intimidated Africa and provoked a nervous respect for her leader- Kri had been a force to be reckoned with absolutely, but why was Gaucho not just as fierce. The word discrimination jumped to the front of her mind but she held her tongue carefully while the tension through the meeting began to overflow. Contempt should not exist here, and certainly Africa held none for any of her kin.
Silas could sense the disharmony building through Africa’s enduring soul, and began to preen the crop of oily many by her withers, a gesture to comfort and consol his beloved.
Her concerned gaze swept from the group towards Midas, and there it softened thoughtfully. So much stress had overwhelmed their family of late and Africa imagined easily that their dissonance would burden the stallion’s enormous, compassionate heart. She knew well that he cared deeply for them all. So, in silence she decided that when evening set darkness upon their home, Silas and she would venture to the unkempt flame of the diviner and pray to the god of the Sun; the fresh faced Oracle would pray as the humble servant of his glorious land, for facilitation and his better judgement regarding all which upset her family.
|
.svg/2000px-Google_Chrome_icon_(2011).svg.png){kind=icon}
