Silvery, sullied, tendrils which once captured so delicately the phosphorous hue of the underground garden, lashed forward to frame the strangely masked face of the mare. She pleaded as she heaved the beaten remnants of (surely) a once gloriously youthful bodice into the air, and the wretched undertone made the Starry-Eyed’s gullible gut, twist unbearably. Trembling, tender lips, soft and moist without any trace of desert dust once stained across them, danced ahead unconsciously to help steady the pitiable mare should she stagger or even fall back to her grave – it was painfully clear. If the Earth did not lend aid to her quickly, those jutting bones would certainly bare her burden no longer.

Empathetic breath leaked from tentatively-slit, velveteen nostrils as they passed brazenly by, as close as Confutatis might tolerate. The stench which had forced sickened distance between them moments before, was gone curiously, and pastel eyes examined the other’s empty, sunken stare as it drifted heaven bound from the slick slough beneath – desperate, and horribly vulnerable. She inched closer to the shrewd dream-weaver, foolish perhaps, like the lamb lulled to sleep by the jaws of a wolf; inquisitive at first, innocent and trusting. So oblivious was she, so entranced by the spell woven in the grim dark of the Sanctuary, that even her wavering ears could not find that baleful tenor which coated heavily each word.

The Gallant answered her in a cautious tone – but it was softer, reassuringly so she thought, hinting of that cherished tenderness which had etched fondness into the Starry-Eyed’s whimsical heart. He was a shrewd mind, beyond her simpleton’s desire to find only the good, and with baited breath she watched as he granted only a timeline long enough to harbour her recovery. "Yes..." She replied, the answer short, obedient, heedful of the gravity of the situation – though not understanding why it was so for even one second. She can nest with me... though Silas purred uncomfortably at her generosity, put off terribly by the almost cold reception Confutatis had been given.

There was a movement though, as the Czar questioned the Wold Eater further about the Basin, and clammy skin fluttered wildly and fearfully as she remembered the magic which had risen through her toes, crippling her soul and draining the life from her desert sister altogether - surely they won’t come? The creature who had loomed previously by the ankles of his bonded wrapped in the cold blackness of the cave, crawled from the murk and up upon the his bonded. Africa paused as he came, casting a careful eye across him; nervous and fidgety, as though her flesh had been the reason for his coming. But the beast came to rest perched atop the sick mare’s withers, and blunt teeth slipped forward just clear of his reach, to pull the tattered forelock from the World Eater's eyes.

"Goddess..." she whispered, voice laden with gratuitous kindness; a merciful embrace that saw naught but the need. "Let the Earth mend your wounds, please." Long lashes fastened tightly together as she called back the sprouts from their soil bed below and they lifted without question, curling to life as she beckoned, finding easily the legs of the emaciated horse. Coated in rich healing mud, they soon grew into vines and tangled together right across her ruined frame; a mesh, a cosy blanket, warming always as they worked. Africa hummed softly a sweet subtle tune, engrossed, and for the moment she was oblivious to any conversation that lingered beyond magic.

As she released them, Earth’s delicate fingers vanished away once more to sleep, and Africa whispered after them - "Thank you!" She was exhausted, swaying visibly before she turned jaded eyes upon Confutatis. "Can you walk," her tongue had grown lethargic, her voice but a breath quivering as it fell from her lips. "Come, please..." And she began to turn across knees that bent awkwardly beneath suddenly cumbersome weight, precariously, to guide the the Goddess along a rubble path skirting the hidden herd land; to the homely prison cell where they could sleep, that the Starry-Eyed had made as a sanctuary of her own.