Like the shrewd natives who called the desert territory home, Africa had grown rather to favour and appreciate the darker hours of the repetitive cycle of time. With night came the ultimate blessing of shade; cool and revitalizing, and often accompanied by the salty wafts of crisp southern ocean air. Also though, the blackness brought peace and tranquillity which she sought always, and the ability to roam in solitude beneath the owlish glare of her bonded, unseen by the multitude who stirred with the shedding of sunlight. This night, and for the week just passed, the moon’s cool gaze had warmed and its face was swollen and heavy where it hung at half-mast in the sparkling black arc of sky. An eerie illumination was cast upon the red-gold world beneath, a half-light that was both enchanting and unsettling, and while it lingered through each meandering night sequence, Africa found little rest.

She was poised by the rolling surf where crumbling wakes broke and frothed about her steady white knees. The water had lost its summer warmth already as the breath of Jack Frost buffered its murky, orange surface, promising wickedly that a swift winter would soon befall them all. The bitter sting against warm skin was penetrating, though she remained in place motionless, gazing far out and into the blend of black blue horizon in the distance. Silas was with her, snugly nestled upon the warmth of her silk-clothed rump with scaly black talons wrapped in a jacket of midnight feathers; star-speckled and shimmering just like the embellished heavens above. The young Zephyr was not resting though either; he would not while his beloved’s heart murmured with unquenchable restlessness and disquiet. He posed silently in place as sentry instead.

Many things had happened recently; the shift of faces, of family and friends alike, and the strange return of many who had been lost through the endless night. She could not tell what unsettled her more, the sudden reappearance of infamous names (the faces of which she had mostly not seen) - of those whose histories were whispered and rumoured along the cool whisk of breeze; or those who had not returned, like Kri and Sumati, and the countless soldiers who had vanished into rippling heat of Tallsun. She sighed deeply, broodingly before her mind filled with the all-pervading worry of her friend. “So much is changing in the world…” She told him privately, closing her eyes to concentrate because the art of mind speech was still as raw as a yolk strewn hatchling. She needn’t have though, Silas was all too aware of the troubles burdening her heart and while he could not readily understand the concepts relayed to him (couldn’t properly comprehend the rambling of her wearied thoughts), the bond between them combined them; made them one.

He clacked his beak comfortingly and the thoughtful gesture forced a smile upon her weathered lips. “Thank you,” she whispered affectionately, aloud though the gentle melody of her voice was swallowed by the churn of the wild sea before her.


[For @[Satanic Silk] and any others]