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From the East wheeled the familiar blur of sleek, brilliant black frosted in starlight which shone magnificently against a cloud strewn night sky. Silas had found no trace of the electric blue mare that had been raised with Africa to lead the dwindling few who wavered still beneath the weight of cynicism, their loyalty pledged to the rolling dunes and father of fire and light alone. Weeks had been left to pass by, idle moments in time that now filled her restless mind with guilt and regret. Had she failed the promise she had made so quickly; so easily? No. Although her motivation recently had grown stale, the commitment and devotion brimming always through an optimistic heart had not and she stepped now from the brink of ribbon emerald palms with renewed vigour. Africa would drive on, with or without Ampere at her side.

Pastel yellow eyes wandered upwards as the nearness of her companion’s shrewd mind intensified. They met in silent vigil, bright hope and insurgent strength fortifying a bond which had already withstood so much hardship; so many trials. As he dropped, swooped and veered towards where she had come to wait upon the soft slippery sands of their home, her chin too lifted in salutation and a quiet breath, held too long in anticipation, rattled her velvety nostrils. Though her lips remained tight and the delicate strum of her vocal chords still, she asked the roc hopefully if his patrol had found the trace of the other mare so longed for. His response filled her with overwhelming disappointment, a profound emptiness that forced long black lashes together. What could have happened?

Bravely Africa nodded, and again her gaze sought comfort beneath the steely violet eyes of the bird. While tides of faces, names and the memories they occupied seemed to scramble in and out of oblivion like waves combing the shoreline, they staggered on together- unbreakable, united. Perhaps without him, she might too have been lost to the sands of time, the rough legend of a one-winged mare whose purpose had never truly been found. The God of the Sun though had given her reason to believe in herself though, and it was to him she prayed silently, pleading for guidance and direction when her own determination floundered through pluming despair. The crown sat firm upon her brow; its dancing golden dragon’s casting quick glare to blind the stray of feeble thoughts whenever struck.

‘I can do this...’

The dappled Sultana continued on her way then, lean legs guiding the sweat laced bulk of her sinewy form towards her old post, the shrine which had always granted unquestionable comfort to a weary mind. Her spirituality was perhaps her saving grace, and she leaned heavily upon it now, eyes widening joyfully as golden-red flames twirled in the distance- welcoming her forward, she thought, warm and eternal. Silas glided above, always watching and ever present in her mind. The desert felt horribly lonely, and she felt bitterly responsible. Perhaps when dawn first straddled the horizon tomorrow, Africa would travel north to find those wandering the Threshold and offer to them refuge; whatever might entice them home.

(Ooc: Open to any, though I would love @[Cera] to join if you have time to call the God of the Sun.

Africa