They tell me I'm too young to understand
They say I'm caught up in a dream
It was even before the crack of dawn, still night, after the herd meeting- she had barely absorbed the reality of her new responsibility; her new role supporting her family. For months (long before the trespass north), she had coveted such a title and with it the weight and duty. Now though, as she slipped with fluid grace which had been rehearsed over and over again, Africa left the desert behind, to clear her mind and focus her perspective. She was a social butterfly by nature, seeking always the company of her kin or those who aspired to be, so she travelled north into the woods marking Helovia’s Threshold.

The air held a comforting cool, a luxury that was missed during the summer season in the desert, and she waded through the eerie stillness carefully and confidently; passing through the ribbed landscape like so many times she had done before. Silas was circling far above the jagged peaks of the redwood canopy, predator gaze shifting between the position of his beloved and the swarm of elusive nightlife which was not so obvious to the naked, earthbound eye. He too found great relief in the darkness, the refreshing shade; though also because he was a creature of the night- a nocturnal soul who really was in his element. Gliding effortlessly, he trailed the dapple grey mare during her tedious journey- he knew the building strain within her, and it caused him great concern.

As Africa neared the dribble of creek towards the Threshold’s middle, she felt the press of guilt which had compelled her from the fierce border of her home- that niggling regret which haunted the shimmering gentleness, deep below the honey-amber in her eyes; the hidden lines of tension which marred the cool calmness in her still slim, underweight frame. Always she tried to brush the heaviness of her still secret treason from her shoulders, shrugging and laughing to convince those watching of her inner tranquillity- she knew though, that they all stared at the raw scar, the bitter pink scar which marked the place where a wing should have grown.

The snap of a twig and the scuff of careless steps caught her attention, just as the one-winged Pegasus dipped her nose to the trickling water’s surface. Quickly her face was lifted high, fluttering nostrils sampling the unmoving air around her for sign of the other who was nearby. Some scent tainted the air, but others had visited the stream recently and Africa could not easily decipher their tangle. "Hello?" She called softly into the night, and the steady drone of crickets ceased at her interruption.