The water was so cool and refreshing. Between measured gulps it slipped along and up the parched corridor of her throat, restoring the moisture that life in such a punishing environment sapped quickly. Africa filled her empty stomach, unsure when next she might find enough time to graze or forage (duty called and errands never ran themselves), and lifted her face finally again with a residue trickle falling from her dimpled, whiskery chin. “I hope you enjoy our hospitality.” She smiled in earnest, gentle gaze dancing to either side of Inara’s ivory blaze to find each eye; pretty blue and murky brown, beneath the shadow of thick black lashes. It came to pass too, that her attention wafted for a second by the strange curved horns, more curiously the broken, and she wondered what story surrounded its lost half.

The journey home had been a long one, the day even longer, and the Starry-Eyed’s puddle-grey coat flinched with weariness as she began subconsciously to relax. The burning afternoon and the unforgiving climate devoured hungrily the last stores of her energy, and though her eyelids felt suddenly heavy, she would not rest until the freezing breath of night had again dressed the sands of her home. The light, cosy shade swayed restlessly around them as the brackish coastal wind rushed between the lushy, leafy canopy overhead, and the mare stiffened her jaw against the strain of a lazy yawn. “I will leave you here to settle in.” Her voice was soft and melodic, warm and patient. “If there is anything you need, seek me out by night. Look for the star-bird who joins me.” Silas was as starkly beautiful as moonless, sparkling night sky and he was not difficult to spot amidst a realm of light glamour and fire.

Surely Inara had already noticed him. The Roc and his bonded were inseparable, soul-mates .

Africa paused a few moments longer, not in any rush to abandon her guest should there be any further conversation to cover. Pastel eyes roved towards the lakes far perimeter, to where another of this family was relaxing; passing away the hottest hours in some comfort, and a silent smile was exchanged. Soon she turned back and signalled a respectful good bye with a slight dip of her finely chiselled skull. “Rest well.” Neat round hooves swivelled through the firm, sodden sandy brim, and she heaved her Spanish bulk back up the terribly eroded embankment. Quickly the rustling copse swallowed the young Sultana into it’s midst.