While the brisk frost-laden breeze swirled down from the northern range; peaks still capped in snow, just visible beyond the spindly tips of recovering redwood pines, Africa felt a rush of summer’s humidity surge right through her core. Windwalker didn’t draw back from the intrusion of her carelessly wandering nose, perhaps he should have; it might have been better for both of their sakes, but by staying he made possible an intimacy that she had not felt- truly, since well beyond the darkness. Since Silk, she mused brazenly, sadly, before sweeping the silvery-maned suitor from her thoughts. She had no reason to believe he had returned from the bleak fate set upon him; no clue that he’d been among those healed by the god of the Earth’s bubbling fountain water.

His hot, thick breath tangled through her own, dancing rampantly between the delicate flutter of her dark nostrils- guided into the billow of hungry lungs as she sucked helplessly, intemperately, caught in a moment she had let close around them. She could feel the bone shroud in fine black where it spread between his eyes, as stiff as the marvellous limestone waves scarring the desert; her home. Her eyes lingered for a moment longer in the lustre of daylight, peeking through the film of swarthy, thick lashes to find his chocolate gaze masked tightly behind night-black covers. How quickly could the trouble of their past be healed exactly? She could not predict the flooding thoughts, the emotion- if any, engulfing his mind in those seconds; though soon enough anyway, the sleek Friesian was whispering to her a glance.

Unsettled by the pulse of energy between them and uncertain still where her own feelings lay, Africa allowed herself to descend with him into the murky, uncomfortable world where sensibility meant nothing, and riled emotion spilt with reckless regard. It was not that she was submitting the weight of his adoration- more obvious that was becoming, as time whirled by, nor toying with the frail nature of his throbbing heart. She was more reluctant than anything, to bruise was had been restored of his self-worth, for the sake of her own relentless confusion. Without agreeing, and not wanting to fuel a situation which could just as easily spiral from control, Africa’s smaller skull bobbed gingerly away so that the small, timid smile expanding across her lips would be noticed first and foremost- this time, there was neither trace of rejection, or the stark warmth of acceptance.

“Where will you go when all of this is over?” she asked coyly, trying earnestly and tenderly to guide him back into reality- or the dimension which they had been squatting in for many months. Africa knew not what would happen when the bulk body of the population began to spew from the cave harbouring them. She could only imagine the wildfire to come; to be borne out of containment, darkness and misery. Would their borders remain? Loyalties still exist? It was worry enough for the gentle-hearted mare, to quell the writhe of adrenaline-charged energy just unleashed through her body and she wondered who would remain true to their home. Quietly she watched the raven stallion for reaction, tilting her face thoughtfully before adding, "Will you come home to the Throat with me?"