The deep, shade engulfing the room and the cool iridescence penetrating that, fed a sense of loose- tranquillity through a mare who was none too pleased with the company she had come down to mingle between. The slight weight of her heedful companion settled beneath a small flurry of wing-brushed, dank air upon the pitch of her withers- the flames curling through mottled, oily mane where it tumbled idly to rest along her neck and shoulders, flickered with delight. She could feel the delicate grasp of his razor-sharp talons sinking beneath the sleek thin canvas of hair (that which had never thickened to bear the full brunt of the terrible winter above ground), and it brought her comfort to know he was close. The mythical avian cawed softly, shifting in place to wrap the clean, black downy feathers lining his breast around against the uneasy flinch of her. He could still not bring himself to preen the tangles from her flaming mane; the element rampant upon her was one his instincts warned him fiercely away from, and so he ran the curved bridge of his beak against her affectionately instead.

Others came, though the one-winged mare’s focus remained on the blue creature ahead or any who passed between- even as the young colt Kari came forward, pastel eyes shifted not to identify the crowd gathered. Credulously (and with steady surveillance nestled and waiting), she imagined that her foes would not use this opportunity where so many gathered between prison-like walls, to rebel. The boy spoke with the same brazen innocence she had been drawn to when they had met for the first time by the Wall of History. She couldn’t help bristle a little, breath snagged by tightening lungs, when he approached the Pegasus who had called them forward- he was young, frail in a sense, and she worried for his welfare. Certainly she was taken aback when his brave, but childish voice revealed an offer to act like bait before the snapping jaws of a wraith.

Certainly the information to follow was news well received, and Africa turned swiftly, impulsively, to find the source. Three or four others had gathered, though her gaze sought carefully only the mare who had healed such filth. She was a unicorn, a bay and though the one-winged horse felt boiling animosity surge within, she clamped tightly her jaws together and turned back. Another spoke, a voice more familiar, and again the thick line of her crest curled to view the stallion who had once been a friend (by association of territory), and listen. He told them of the magical, defensive properties of a branch- he gestured, but she could not see that which was referred to from the awkwardness of the angle shared between them. Never the less she smiled quietly at his proposal, touched too by the quite aloof manner she had found so… uncomfortable, that day by the lava-heart of Helovia.

Eventually the dark-hued vixen’s tone began again to resonate through the chamber’s soft twilight; excited, motivated- all of which Africa was too nervous to find within the fainthearted depths of her core. As the blue eyed mare’s attention switched towards the healing mare behind, the grey noticed curiously the flutter of feathers jerked from their bed in her shadowy mane. She too wore the signet of avian heritage- and others too stored safely in the satchel slung about her elbow. "Of course, Silas and I will join." Intrigue perhaps blurred her common sense in that moment, and the gesture was made far more easily than her flailing conscience might have preferred. Silas on the other hand, stiffened suddenly, readily- not nearly as meek-minded as the second half of his heart.

[sorry ;_; ]

Africa