It had been a great many months since the rescue; when Hellena had sent soldiers to whisk her from the bitter grave in the Basin. The wounds inflicted had been well healed by the Edge Moon Doctor, and only the raw pink tattoo where once a lavish wing extended betrayed the truth of that macabre time. That scar and the waves of guilt and shame which flared inconveniently, more frequently in recent weeks- really, since she had stumbled home with the blissful aura of underground recovery suspended about her shoulders. It seemed many more than she had so ignorantly expected showed interest in her crippling, many intrigued by the curse of suffering which she offered no true sign of.
Helplessly though, the Oracle found herself and those painful memories at the mercy of her concerned kin, stirred against her will, and Silas’ better judgement to recall all the misery which had engulfed her childlike, happy world.

When the bare-faced moon was at its peak one star-speckled night, Africa fled the desert in search of change; some respite from the restlessness of her guilt-stricken heart. An offering of old tatty palm fronds and shrivelled spidering moss had been left for the sacred fire to gorge upon while she was away, and she was sure in the moments before her retreat into the pale moon-wash that no other would come to find her (so many had recently, as though they knew insomnia plagued her). With Silas soaring above, lighting the path safest for her to follow, the Oracle slipped by the half-made wall of the Throat and into the vast wilderness beyond.

By mid-morning, the pair; the one-winged Pegasus bound to the ground by gravity and her bonded Zephyr, had navigated the forked river parting the Thistle Meadow in two. They moved at an increasingly languid pace through patches of forest hither and thither, winding their way in a rough north westerly direction- guided only by the restless urge of the lean mare’s legs. As the Orangemoon sun shed down across Helovia a peaking sun, Africa and Silas had travelled as far as World’s Edge- finding they could go no further when a sheer glassy barricade greeted them and forced them to a stop.

“New...” Came the silent thought of her companion, like gentle breath through her puzzled mind. The Oracle nodded slightly as pursed lips traced the reality of the strange wall which had not existed during their last visit through these parts. She followed it for some distance, pressing the lonely wing by her right flank against its smooth surface as she did, should it falter at some point and grant them access. No such thing happened though, and she drifted away from it and turned, absorbing the structure in one sweeping glance.

Finally she looked back to Silas who was spiralling downwards from somewhere beyond her reach- the top of the wall perhaps; if he had been able to find its end at all. "Can we pass?" She asked him silently, eyes ever hopeful as he paused to hover in the space above her head. The young avian nodded triumphantly and curled around to guide her barely metres further than where she had given up searching. "Thank you.” She whispered tenderly, and turned to allow his landing upon her curved back easier. As he settled into the silken drape of cloak, she approached the slit in the glass.

She announced her arrival tactfully; her identity and her alliance given immediately, and was granted warm entry by those guarding the gate.

The Edge had not changed much, though the memories she now called upon to take her in were skewed by the trauma which had beleaguered her mind. For a little while she wandered aimlessly, uncertain why she had even come; not sure what she hoped to achieve by coming to walk amongst the closest friends to her home. She felt foolish for not bringing something so grand as the glass eagle gifted by these folk, and offered those she swam between modest smiles and gentile pleasantries instead. With a hesitant sigh, Africa headed for the cover of a grove of trees- somewhere to gather her thoughts and determine any purpose for the visit should the need for one arise. As she neared her refuge (unbeknownst to her, the roost of a stallion she had met once before), a gathering stole her attention and intrigue began to quickly smother her discomfort. They were grouped she thought, around a patch of dirt- a bed, upon closer inspection as delicate steps fondled the ground closer. The Oracle wished not to intrude; had not the confidence within to push herself into any business, and so offered before her arrival between them a snort to gain their attention- Africa was not one of their peers after all.


[ooc- Abba's permission to enter? -sheepish grin-]

Africa