The arrival of sunlight where that could never truly reach; glowing glory and beauty he might otherwise have shunned drew rapidly the night-thriving gaze of the Roc. His bright lilac gaze turned towards Fina as she swept before the painted stallion through the eerie glow of the resource room, and silent delight bubbled through his mind. She held tightly in her talons an animal, that much was obvious, yet Silas was not particularly tickled by the concept. He had learned to feast upon that which his beloved enjoyed- berries, bristly pods (or the seeds they contained), the fresh growth of seasonal blooms; and now the spongy luminescent mushrooms and moss which carpeted this rich chamber. None of those streamed fresh blood; never did the thought of killing to pacify his hunger appeal.

Regardless of this, and having felt the sway of her aloofness when both Midas and Africa had spoken last (though fraught it had been), the opportunistic Roc fluttered from the brittle branch he had set himself upon to where Fina alit in a fir- minding his distance diplomatically, given that she was quite apparently preparing to dine. He cawed and croaked lightly in hopeful greeting, flaunting the lavish decoration of purple-sheened, black crest feathering as his neck lengthened to arc charmingly; all the while the peppering of shimmery starlight upon his plumage, brightened heartily in response to his heightened interest and expanding curiosity.

The colt appeared to appreciate the offer of companionship (after brief hesitation); a nurturing embrace. His lean legs brought him alongside the dappled mare and she welcomed him with the delicate flutter of her velveteen nostrils, guiding him down to lay amid her embrace. Pale eyes noted to arrival of the firebird Fina after the sudden surge of her own companion’s interest forced her face around- though she never had to wonder who had arrived; there was only one other (besides herself) who received such attentiveness from the young Zephyr. Marco began to speak of his travels and experiences, and Africa’s eyes brushed across the pallid length of his face- his young complexion, and that plucky spirit animating it. Undeniably the boy was charming- but so had been Dust and Aurelia (both had parted her side; rejected the care and fondness she offered). She could only hope now that this little bay would surprise her.

He spoke on about the length of his journey, and the one-winged Pegasus smiled encouragingly, passing her gaze back towards Midas when he began across the room to meet them. Truly, little time had passed them by. Although the colt’s story at times spilt only as thoughtful mumbling, Africa had been intrigued by all revealed and her ears portrayed her interest tirelessly as they pressed zealously towards the murmur of his voice. By the time Marco had finished, the paint Sultan had paused to graze by them- offering firstly am amiable greeting; ‘true to Midas’ gracious style,’ the mare smiled quietly to herself.

Her young friend nodded, perhaps lost for words- the stallion who had blessed their company, was indeed a magnificent creature to behold. Smiling with warm confidence in the presence of her black and white friend, Africa lifted her nose to speak. "Midas; Marco here is the newest to join our ranks. The journey through the darkness outside was hard, but this fellow’s courage never faltered. Perhaps he might find a tutor in the Throat’s army when the time comes?" Whiskered lips reached to nuzzle the tangle of his thick black mane where it slopped down between his eyes. "Marco, meet our Sultan; Midas is one of our two kings." Billowy breath was released to tumble cheerfully through the rising silence left in wake of her gentle voice.

Africa