Sunlight still brighter than a Tallsun noon seemed to burst through the, cold, dark underground and Africa’s skin tingled with joy. At first pastel eyes burned, forced to shelter between shutting thick lashes, but she was no creature of the night – she cherished His sun, the warmth and the light. Silas however ducked rapidly his small skull beneath one lifted wing, shielding his sharp eyes from the sudden assault of daylight. The valiant zephyr had been fashioned for the night, cloaked in the soft-shimmer of starlight, and he could hardly bare the intense change as it exploded around them. The dappled mare felt the grimace strike her heart, the pain sear her mind and turned before following the Peacock from the conure’s lit sanctuary, to view her stunned bonded.

Lone wing lifted stiffly from her flank (it was seldom extended these days, useless in a sense), and angled upwards, backwards to shield her friend. As the dim shade fell across him, violet eyes peeled tentatively apart and Silas shuffled with a careful grip upon her spine to nestle down in the dip of her back where the sparsely feathered appendage cast the deepest shadow. He thanked her silently, feeding their bond with affection and gratitude.

Hard hooves clicked loudly against the stone as she passed behind the regal Peacock at last into chilling darkness that brought back a flood of hard memories. So many weeks had been spent in the murky depths, these depths - sorrowful and forlorn, and the haunting silence unsettled her deeply. Times long behind you, her bonded soothed, chest rattling audibly and Africa nodded, heartened by his confidence and the truth in that thought.

The vibrant, raucous chatter of parrots was no longer, and though she missed awfully their bright, endearing company, her heart held not the same crippling loneliness, blindness, that had been during their last stroll through the black. Their guide halted, and the cool glow from the soft moss touched walls barely gave enough warning. The birds gloriously long, white feathers bounced just above the ground and Africa staggered to a standstill when finally her eyes found them suddenly, almost beneath her step. Silas lurched forward with splayed wings but held well his balance irrespective. The primordial voice again filled the mind of both zephyr and Pegasus, and Africa’s slim, pale face skewed off centre as she was touched by his unnerving stare.

Silas was a swift thinker, intelligent and cunning; a predator in the natural world that held little validation for reason or consideration. He wasted no time when it came to decision making and judged those who came into contact with his beloved quickly and boldly. Africa on the other hand was a romantic, often led astray by fanciful ideas and wishful dreams. The one-winged mare was very readily distracted and pondered thoughtfully and diligently any questions come to light. She sought desperately the best from those around her, and hurt gravely when the hearts she cherished were weakened with despair.

Throughout the course of her life, she had drifted from the path she had so desired to follow (peace, humility), and so there were a great many things she wished gravely for now. Silas clucked audibly as he considered the question. His feathers were smoothed by then along his body, content and comfortable with the strange company they had adopted, and shining eyes (black in the darkness) were trained to the Peacock. The one-winged mare turned her face upon a bent neck, craning to be nearer to her beloved companion. What would you want, Silas? The zephyr’s hooked beak turned swiftly, clever eyes meeting her focus with a calculated, questioning glare.

Only very recently, Africa’s life had begun to shift – for the better. The woes that had plagued her for months (at least since the time they had spent in The Sanctuary) seemed to be dissolving from thought and opportunities – some of which she might never have expected in this lifetime, were coming to fruition. She could think of very little to compliment her fortune in truth. As it were, their present journey had enlightened her considerably. It had brought to the forefront of her mind memory of the electric, blue mare Ampere, her fellow Sultana - ‘What right do you have to take his life? What right does anyone have?’
At the time, the dappled mare had been confused and startled by the rash beliefs purged so passionately by the Mother of Companions, but now, as visions of Neve and Fina, fire and ice nestled close together passed before her eyes along with the conure and the dove, Africa felt grave longing for her bonded.

"I would like nothing more, than for Silas to have freedom..."

Silas cawed softly, and reached daringly and affectionately to grasp her mane between flame. He did not freedom, he was not trapped.

"Perhaps then someday a partner, true avian companionship, because a Pegasus is a cumbersome mate for a bird." Africa chortled softly. She had seen on many occasions the interest he had shown in fiery Fina, but alas she was aloof most times and surely dangerous to touch if ever the chance had been given. Thoughtfully then she glanced back to the Peacock.

Africa