‘The Foothills…’

Wilting ears stiffened towards the white-faced Equine at the unexpected mention of the territory; is homeland. It was nestled at the foot of the large north-eastern mountain range which shouldered a great spiritual field shroud ordinarily in cloud; where ruthless Unicorns ambushed unsuspecting Pegasi.
The only time she had flown so far into the cooler climate was during her first Tallsun in Helovia, and Africa had passed overhead with still the gift of a glorious wingspan. More recently, Midas had spoken of those who rested in that land- they sought friendship with her kin, and Africa’s cordiality softened still further towards Solace. Although he could not have realised the recollection expanding in her mind, the young Oracle smiled all the more warmly for him and the still infantile relationship between their families.

Sparkling cream eyes shifted solicitously back to the golden girl and storm-grey lips peeled back to reveal the slightly stained rows of matured, well used teeth. “If you were to accompany either Solace or myself, we all would surely meet again.” She explained gushingly, though her tone was still quite naturally and mellow. “Just recently our herds have spoken about friendship.” It was a vastly generous overstatement, given that she herself had been one most opposed to the extension of such a swift bond after the invasion. Now though, perched before a demure and respectable personality from the Foothill’s midst, Africa felt more compassionate and forthcoming than she had about a group of nameless, faceless horses.

Perhaps accompanying Shadow to visit these souls had merit.

Vanity took her time to address both Africa and then Solace respectively. It was a welcome distraction from the terror which had lathered the beautiful creature throughout the chance meeting. When the time came for the dappled Oracle to elaborate about the Throat, she did so after a moment’s pause to think. It seemed that the golden Pegasus knew far more than even Africa had when her hooves had fallen across the Threshold so long ago.

“Dragon’s Throat is a vast lake in the middle of the desert. It harbours life in an environment that would otherwise be too brutal to stand.” She began, taking her cue from the silence fallen between the friendly trio. “Our herd pays homage to the magnificent God of the Sun, proud and powerful. At the head of our family are two of the finest warriors in all of Helovia, the Gallant and Gaucho...” She paused then to allow the information to be absorbed; reflecting while she did on the true wealth of her family, their steadfastness and incredible resilience against the worst Helovia had been able throw. “We are a sanctuary; a home to any soul troubled, wounded or ambitious, though primarily Pegasus build our numbers. Our ranks and minds are open to those wishing to forge for themselves a legacy, though some join for the simple luxury of life in the luscious oasis.”

Again silence devoured the trail of her delicate, sweet voice and Africa propped back comfortably to learn from Solace, his interpretation and perspective of the Foothills.