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Africa had been in the past herself, a reckless impulsive creature with little respect for the boundaries of others. Despite the sheer shell of stubborn standoffishness and recoiled emotion now, she found the sliver of respect- of intrigue and fascination, growing like a seed, planted deep in her soul. The Pegasus whose world seemed so defiantly bound to cross the path the one-winged mare travelled, was unlike the morbid minds and doormat feelings she had come across too many times before. There seemed to be so much more lost behind the rash words and knee-jerk reactions that flashed and flared so frequently, like lightning through a dark, brooding storm cell. Perhaps it was nervousness that held her back; maybe the grey was intimidated by this new sort of the fiery passion and shameless brandishing of fresh ideas and perspectives that had never passed through her own mind before. Though she mentioned it not, the concept of freedom stirred now by Ampere and the fierce attitude she held towards those who had taken companions for their own merit (still Africa held firm that her binding to Silas had been pure fluke), was incredible; powerful.

Nevertheless, Africa held her guard- self preservation a characteristic which had been rather set like concrete through the marrow in her bones during the troubles of the recent years, and for the immediate moment offered little more than the niceties actually required for the conversation as it were.

Unexpectedly, or perhaps she knew the blue-toned mare by now well enough to predict such an effect, Ampere’s eyes rushed back to tangle with her own pale, creamy gaze. A small tender smile slipped between the cracks of flaking apprehension- perhaps the other’s unusual spontaneity was a little endearing. The grey nodded quickly, feeding off the other Sultana’s reaction subconsciously (if there had been a brow set above her dark-lashed eye it might have quirked like that of a gossiping school-girl as well). Those hateful creatures of the north were indeed supremacists- the word she had taken readily from Kri years ago, and Africa found herself lost between vivid, striking blue as she struggled to decide if Ampere was of the same impression.

She did not remember the Basin as beautiful- not like the fluid twirl of windblown desert gold, of rebellious, thriving emerald and sweet crystal blue in the midst of an otherwise cruel, barren world. Her mind relayed memories more of biting cold, wet slurry-snow and gaunt trees tarnished by frost whenever their leaves had been held. It was the home of torture and pain, where bodies roamed without beating hearts or compassion mellowing souls- those who dwelt in that bitter place were demons with thought only for those wielding bone or spines on their heinous faces. A shudder erupted through her core, and the fine hair (thin without the need to thicken while buried in a cave environment) prickled along her spine.

Really, the only founding truth about the racism and malice through the north was that experience during her incarceration, biased as it was; and hearsay collected here and there from varying parties around Helovia. The notion was however, as real to her as perhaps enslavement was to Ampere. With obstinacy slicing through the soft gush of her own voice, Africa answered. "Their racist beliefs and hateful reputation has been preached through Dragon’s Throat for at least as long as I have lived here. I have seen it for myself." She turned then, and craned the gentle arch of her neck so that rough, dry lips could brush the still pink scar strewn starkly across her wingless murky shoulder. "I was tortured by them..." Deimos had not so much tortured her body- it was he that had filled her mind with guilt and regret, killing the sister she had accompanied beyond that borderline (a foolish endeavour- she never argued); but both Alan and Crash Course had crushed her body and broken her spirit all those winters ago, and not one had come from their centre to tend the decay of those wounds. No, she had been left rather to rot alone beneath the sagging prison-walls of the ancient mountain range surrounding.

Africa had not met a pleasant being from those parts, and countless faces, even horned, were banked in her repertoire of those encountered.

"It would be wise..." she insisted carefully, remembering that their opinions were of equal concern now and that times had changed right throughout Helovia, "...I think, to learn as much as possible about those on the mainland before we pledge our support- or not." Without care or consideration about maintaining any grudge over Ampere for the behaviours she might not herself have fancied, Africa at last smiled openly again.