In recent weeks Africa had returned to the Threshold forest again, and again. It had become part of a mind numbing ritual, a distraction from the tides of grief and guilt that seemed to swell with the weather; the gloom before rain helped little to quell surging torrents of tears, though the clearest days, when all of His glorious sunlight bled down upon her, clarity numbed all thought. She had not lifted prayer to the heavens for many months (at least since her fall from grace, from Dragon’s Throat), but since her grim encounter with Satanic Silk, the emptiness was growing too much.

Fire...

But light-golden eyes fluttered open, startled by her own conviction, by the desperation of her heart. She was terrified of Him it was true, though always He had showered her with generous gifts and titles; never had the God of the Sun been anything more menacing than benevolent. Guilt plagues you. Silas mentioned often, in passing, but her faith swayed terribly now that the power of the Earth was swimming through her veins – He would be furious... The Starry-Eyed blinked softly, vaguely, and her slim ashen face turned back to the stone littered path winding down from the Falls.

As he often did, Silas trailed behind, pausing to dine on ripening acorns that seemed more prolific in these northernmost forests than through any other. Despite the disfavour his beloved showed for the oak-nuts, he could barely resist the (now frequent) opportunity to forage through the decorated tree tops. It was for this reason that the preoccupied zephyr had failed to reveal the presence of another along the way.

Africa too was distracted, though she had trained her stride well to move without sound; almost too without trace. Wherever thick grass tussocks bulged out from beneath the heavy mat of forest litter, careful hooves were placed upon them – and so too loose gravel or anything else which might better conceal her lowly travelling. Above, gentle eyes roamed through the trees scattered ahead, blind to the waltzing shadows and flittering birdlife; seeing naught but a haze of pained memories and entirely unaware of the unfamiliar mare beneath the soft wilt of the willow nearby.

‘Hey!’

Long ears pricked suddenly, the left swivelling back suddenly to roost beneath plumes of curling fire, and Africa paused with one knee still crooked high above the ground. The voice continued, demanding and threatening, and she hesitated anxiously, truly not hungry for confrontation that day.

Warily she cast her eyes left and right, and turned on the spot to survey the path behind – there was no one there that she could see, and a nervous sigh escaped her lungs. Only as she was fidgeting back around again, did Africa notice the blur of movement beneath, inside, the tree. Both ears pitched backwards as she approached, a look of bewilderment ripe across her features.,. “Is someone in there?” More voices, panicked, and a shrill whinny burst from somewhere within the bowed branches, and Africa jumped with surprise as dark a rump emerged to her front. “Woah...” Chin tucked promptly and chipped hooves staggered backwards should the rear continue in reverse.

Silas!