The resonating screech of a banshee’s voice spilt upwards through the stony corridors of her makeshift home, pulling the one-winged dapple grey mare from humble mediation by the Wall of History. Long listening ears swivelled quickly forward to receive the crude message born upon its shrill, obnoxious pitch and she knew instantly its electric blue owner. Each attentive satellite retreated distastefully into the sedentary smoulder of flaming grey mane; eyes narrowing all the while, apprehensive as visual memory of that day in the Threshold returned to the forefront of her mind.

They had been forced to live beside each other here where the air seemed stale and damp; without the luxury of space, with not the option to select the quality of neighbours and bed-fellows alike. It had been a steep learning curve for Africa in particular who had managed apparently to secure some of the finest enemies in the land- much of the Unicorn community, those who basked in the obscurity of night at the best of times; and Ampere (whose name she still did not know), who had launched a freak attack for reasons still quite beyond the grey’s logic. Never the less, the volatile creature below had sent out a summoning in the name of W.A.R, and against her better judgement, she could not forsake that effort of resistance headed by Gaucho. With lead-laden legs reluctant to sway to the demands of one such as the magical Pegasus mare somewhere beneath, Africa began an unhurried descent with Silas aboard, towards The Glowing Room, light well-positioned footfalls creating the faintest of clicks against the stone passage as she went.

It was the last place they had gathered, after all.

When she did finally slip between the gape of cold granite into the chamber holding the marvellous underground forest, pale yellow eyes began to scout through the stew of bodies present- some of whom had been stirred to life by frenzied words; others, grimly, still mulling with sunken heads by the perimeter. Ampere was not difficult to find, and right away Africa was conscious of the fact that Gaucho had not by then found her side at the head of his army. She wondered in pensive silence if the latest search party had returned- he among them, as many had not been seen for what she could only presume to be days. Another was speaking as she passed modestly towards the small group gathered. Neck sagged heavily, the weight of the ceiling’s presence like a tightly made prison upon her shoulders; and tail flicked idly with each dragging stride before she came to rest at a comfortable distance from the larger (than herself), spotted Unicorn. She could not remember seeing him previously, and so for the moment waited contentedly enough there.

Perhaps luck would be on her side today and the snarky blue Pegasus would hurl herself from the meeting indignantly; much like the last Africa attended.

Africa