A pleased breath rattled her nostrils; the boy needed no prompting nor encouragement, his young voice sailed forward freely and confidently with both his name and reason for being. Africa chortled light-heartedly, enjoying Dust’s innocence, that which had parted from her soul many moons ago. It seemed so delicate and precious to her, like the sweet scent of a newborn. Her thoughts danced away for the slightest of moments to a time when she had witnessed through eyes just so naïve, the birth of a wolf; a lamb of the Throat. There was nothing remotely presumptuous about the colt’s genuine intro, and Africa’s warm eyes caressed him approvingly.

Again a carefree laugh split into the warm desert air, Africa’s parted jaws lifting high into the air. She stepped closer to the unsettled mare as her pale complexion sank dismally into something which appeared to Africa to be embarrassment. “You are not careless at all Alina!” her cheerful voice chimed aloud and unbridled; the young grey could find no fault in the newcomer’s manner and fluttered her nostrils warmly to attempt to sooth the nerves which were obviously as easily frayed as her own. Likewise, Africa’s own smile remained strong and true, plastered all the way across her face.

She did wonder momentarily who the pale dove thought she was- never had she been addressed in such a formal fashion, but Africa quelled her curiosity for the sake of her herd-sister’s mortification.

Many found interest in the limb which was no longer clutched to the dapple grey’s flank. In fact, it was so common for wandering eyes to find themselves fixed to the shining pink scar that Africa hardly noticed Alina’s transfixed gaze, soaking up the scar which remained. She simply waited quietly as the silence descended around them, musing over the prickle of Silas’s claws as they treadled the groove of her back; his small mass shifting perhaps into a more comfortable position.

As the flick of the other mare’s eyes recoiled from the slope of Africa’s featherless shoulder, her pale creamy gaze followed on cue- coming to rest appropriately on the colt that rose to the centre of attention. She found herself nodding along to the polite explanation- that which surely Dust would be able to relate himself too and… With a start, the Oracle’s eyes fell across the face of the white mare, her expression a confused blend of curiosity and concern. A breath withheld was all she could manage to prevent herself from bursting then, flooding the space between them- who on earth was Skuggi?

She shifted awkwardly, managing at least to hold her tranquil composure for the better of the congregation; Alina spoke many truths after all, and she was delighted that Dust could hear another gushing about the worth of the Throat. The smile lingered, although Africa’s thoughts struggled to focus; faces and names blitzing through her spinning mind as she struggled to work out who had brought this girl home. In the long run it mattered little- but after the recent invasion, such a strange occurrence was not easily set aside.

“It’s been a long journey.” She said at last through a sincere smile, turning with a softening glance offered to the enduring boy. His resilience was commendable given that a Pegasus was born to feel the wind rippling his wings. “We were heading to the Throat to freshen up before the day grows too old. Will you join us?” Africa’s expression was transparent then, and she hoped genuinely that Alina would accompany them.