The oasis was quieter, more so than he might have remembered and Africa was awkwardly aware of the fact. There was a natural ambience still present; the busy natter of birdlife, the rich (droning) summer chorus of cicadas, but the tracks once worn by the passage of many hooves had settled to crack beneath the heat of the high-noon sun. There was no flicker of movement as bodies rushed between duties, nor was there murmur of conversation whenever the insects paused to rest. Their family was small now, unnervingly so, and it took all of the dappled mare’s unstable strength to quell and bury her shame. Beneath him, Dragon’s Throat had been a sea of life, frothing with energetic animation.

The Starry-Eyed sighed and hunched beneath her brittle cloak of composure.

The cosy shade given by the sprawled arms of the oasis’s fresh, breeze-brushed canopy, danced across her dappled hide as she wandered beneath by the pale feathered wing of Sohalia. She wanted to touch the dove so respected, to leech the strength and serenity which seemed to gloss away their shared reservations. Her coat trembled occasionally, bothered by clouding flies, unable to shed the anxiety of a heart beneath. Midas waited ahead and they approached; Africa smiled, finding comfort easily in the magnificence of all that he embodied; courage, compassion and intelligence... quickly she fell into the trap set down by his appeal; that which she had admired for many years.

She felt better.

Her sister spoke first and the one-winged mare halted, still as near to the white body as she could manage without being a nuisance. Quickly Sohalia revealed their happy acceptance of the alliance between his family and the Throat, and dusty-red lips peeled away from marbled teeth in a hearty grin. Without reserve she added, “We missed you terribly you know. It’s wonderful to find you well.” The velvet bridge between her quietly fluttering nostrils pinched a little as she fought hard the temptation to reach out, but she could not resist, and warm breath danced forward in a show of affection too immense to withhold. She’d missed him terribly; he was like a father; her inspiration and her muse, a brother and a friend. Midas was someone she cared deeply for- and the troubles he had confided in her were never far from her thoughts.

They were family and the formality of before felt as cold and callous as a knife’s blade. Africa was a creature of impulse; she was sensitive, and often improperly emotional.

She recoiled before the Gallant responded, adrenaline flooding rapidly throughout her core, warming and energizing. There was much to cover still- the ineptness of the two inexperienced mares and the task they faced of placing someone to lead and encourage the Throat’s meagre army. “We are yet to find a Gladiator to lead our soldiers.” She revealed with some timidity flanking her tone. She imagined their brother might laugh at this and chuckled softly to herself; she and Sohalia were as gentle-natured as a babbling brook, that much was obvious. “It’s our plan to host a competition to find the fittest candidate- though neither Soh nor I are qualified to do that. Would you have time spare to help us judge?”

Africa knew now, more than ever she had before, how leading a herd sapped all free time, and rolled her suddenly dry tongue with guilty hope across the back of her teeth.