Without warning, the small, bronze Storyteller reversed from the cave and curiously, quietly Africa’s eyes lifted from the dark recess of the home she had opened for the comfort of her unexpected guests. Still the rain hammered down in relentless fashion, and it surprised the dappled mare all the more that the other had chosen to be cold and wet in place of cosy in the cell. Cordial words parted from lips already stained by the fluid spilling down between the other’s fine pale, pink nostrils and she could not help the resigned sigh which rolled from her lungs. Though brief, the small trace of Drom’s discomfort had distracted the smile to ensue, and the medic could not help but wonder just what had triggered the change of heart.

Nevertheless, flaming poll bounced thoughtfully and the illumination surrounding danced beautifully.

Seconds later, there was roused movement from the other; the tall grey lady who had ventured here originally and Africa shuffled her hooves automatically as though more space might have been needed again. That was not the case however... December slipped from her amiable enough company also, finding greater comfort in the miserable weather outside with the smaller, and the Starry-Eyed’s brow crooked cautiously. Without the need for shared word, Silas was purring behind her – watching the strange proceedings with a glazed, critical eye.

“I enjoyed your company, December...” she mentioned, called out behind, hopeful that a late show of warmth might subdue any sudden flare of insecurity that had driven the thicker build to take leave. But after pausing very briefly by Drom, the paler mare vanished into the thick misty white soup. Before the one-winged mare’s focus fell again across the remaining soul, she passed a puzzled glance by her restless bonded – caves were never his preferred roost.

The Storyteller spoke again of the saturated cloak outside when all had settled again – after Africa had emerged from the dry to stand respectfully in the rain with her company. Certainly the other mare felt a far greater fondness for both the (apparent) monsoon and the cloth, than she did herself and light-golden eyes wandered thoughtfully from warm honeyed eyes towards the shrubs across which it was strewn. Drom smiled at last, and the mood lifted considerably. “Why don’t you take it with you?” Soft, melodious tone danced playfully through the rain, and the dappled sauntered away, pausing only to turn and invite the copper mare along. “Really, I have no need for clothing.”

As she arrived beside the cloak, teeth reached coolly to take its velvet rim and drag it clear of the branches. In kind gesture (and hardly considering how unpleasantly heavy the item might be in its sodden state), she spread the fabric carefully across the other’s back, stepping back quietly to admire its new owner beneath. “Perhaps after it dries, you’ll see how lovely it really is. The green’s far softer, brighter, than it is now... you know?” Trying to appear less eager than she truly was, lips began to fondle the buckle and after a considerable effort in vain, she summoned the zephyr from his rest. Silas, can you do it up please...

He came a little reluctantly and secured the cloak in place.

“There!”

But soon the conversation had switched to a more personal nature (well the thoughts spurred by the changed subject were), and wondering eyes passed across the dished face of the equine mare.

“He did...” she agreed, turning only in part to inspect the cave which had sheltered both from a wild blizzard together, many moons ago. “I have little doubt any prisoner would be more than comfortable during their stay.” Curious eyes returned though swiftly through the rain to find Drom’s eyes set soundly upon her - “What is it Drom...?” she asked quietly, both intrigued and puzzled; certain that such a random reference was the last thing on her mind. A gentle smile curled smoky grey lips apart, and she giggled softly, wanting to at least lull away the other mare’s obvious hesitation.