Somehow, she comes. She finds me in these vast rolling sand hills; perhaps she was looking for me? I am lacking in the knowledge she has, so I do not know how Africa works. Her brain is a large wilderness, unexplored by anyone but herself and Silas. The grass uncut, bushes untrimmed, and trees that have grown tall and wide. Her mind, to me, is like Helovia's lands. The warmth of this desert, the comforting coziness of the forests I live in. Maybe her mind turns dark like the shadow lands when thoughts of her wing being torn, pulled, or yanked off (I don't know how it happened, for I wasn't there, but I do assume). I can see all these lands in her mind...

All but the snowy steppe or Basin.

Africa's heart is not cold at all. Their seems to be a surplus of warmth and joy encased in her fat heart. I can't help, but compare myself to the dappled mare standing before me. She is healthy, happy, and strong. Whereas I am doubting my ability to care for this simple snake that slithers before me. As the wise mare halts a bit of a ways away from me, she speaks softly. Her voice nearly inaudible to my ears. Still, the tone of her voice laced across my ears. "Aurelia?" I start smiling, then crying.

Crying.

I lunge forwards, towards her. I carefully dance around my snake and by the time I do, I am hoping to stand by her, and embrace her. I try to let my head rest on her withers in the awkward embrace only a horse can do. "Africa! I've missed you so much." I squeal like the child I used to be. I've grown up so quickly. Will she still be mad at me for leaving her?

Was she ever mad?

Water continues to bubble in my ears for a moment, and I attempt to man up some and stop crying. Only a few more seconds and the tears have vanished. My newly golden nose-bridge is covered by my insanely long forelock. Now that I realize it, my hair is way overgrown. My coat is still thick from winter, but I am shedding a lot.

Is Africa going to be coated in my hairiness?

I guess it wouldn't be tooooo bad if she was. A few gold accents on her wouldn't be SO horrible. More like... bad, but not horrible. A gold Africa wouldn't be Africa, now would it be? Rostislav and Voodoo didn't seem to mind. Speaking of which, I have to tell Africa about my rendezvous with those two stallions. "Look, I have a snake friend!" I smile wildly as I retreat a step or two from where I think she is. Hopefully allowing a good distance between us. "Also, Africa... I think I'm going to be a mother." My smile fades to worry as I think about how young I am. I'm TWO, for crying out loud! What is she going to think? "Before you say anything, I need to know if you'd be willing to be the adoptive mother of the baby." I pause for a moment. I take a deep breath and then continue. "She or he's father is either Rostislav or Voodoo... I don't know which." Slowly, my little snake crawls next to my front right hoof before curling up into a coil and falling asleep.

I'm so stupid, confused, lonely, lost, disheveled, angry, sad, but most of all disappointed in myself.

Now, I hold my breath and hope for the best reaction from this mare.