The stallion’s behaviour seemed erratic, unsettlingly so, and the Starry-Eyed could only offer a helplessly sympathetic glance towards the unfamiliar bay mare. What an unfortunate introduction to Helovia – for what other reason would there be for her to linger still beneath the draped arms of limber willow in the Threshold. She soon realised her accuracy, it was indeed Oxy, and his rambling had not for a second completed. Words tumbled from his lips and his thick head rocked as unsteadily as a lissom leaf, fondled by the breeze wafting by. Africa still had not the slightest clue as to what had occurred; she had waded so obliviously, right into the midst their indigent swamp with all of the courage her feeble heart could muster.

Butterflies?

Silas drew a similar blank – from his lofty perspective, naught but twirling green foliage and bumbling bodies was visible.

The stallion fell silent suddenly, abruptly, and creamy, confused eyes skimmed his lips for any sign of restraint. Nothing... Silas, is he insane? The zephyr began a hurried descent, concerned by the sequence of events unfolding, and still more by the pluming perplexity in her mind.

Gaze slipped from Oxy’s diluted attention; his eyelids had closed inconveniently, peculiarly, like they just had no more strength to bare the scene before them... Or because his interest had faded altogether – she was not sure. She turned to the mare who chuckling; tendrils of midnight-black writhing about her as she shook her head. The other certainly raised a fair point, and Africa nodded with a light grimness tainting her gentle expression. “This isn’t normal...” the one-winged insisted vaguely as the Legatus asked finally for directions. His tone was freakishly calm, as though a completely different pair of lungs had fuelled it.

“As in, Hidden Falls?” Soft voice questioned, unsure why he would not remember the way – just a hop skip and a jump to the north – himself. Is he serious? Dazed, she gestured towards the path that would see him home. “Follow that...”

Eyes glazed with disbelief, Africa turned at last back towards her – more rational – company. “Sorry, I am Africa, from Hidden Falls, like him.” A thoughtful smile teased the wrinkled corners of her sooty-grey mouth, and she dipped her face politely. “We are not all so...” Rude? Stoned? Half-witted? “...unhinged.” The grin broadened hopefully, and two neat rows of pearly off-whites glinted in the shifting, dappled sunlight. The curious posture of the other’s skull (the way it seemed to follow the shade), had not passed by the Starry-Eyed’s notice. She watched curiously and asked, “Would you be more comfortable in the shadows? There are many back home.”