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The cold blue sky was streaked by thick grey clouds, and while the modest radiance of the Orangemoon sun smoothed tenderly across the thick maze of pine forest below, a turn in the weather seemed impatient to clothe the early day in bleak shadow. Africa gazed with a heavy heart as her sanctuary threatened to fall into the dismal grip of an Orangemoon storm. It was long past the time she had hoped to turn for home, but the promising grumble of thunder, no matter how distant it still was, seemed ominous and far from inviting. She drew the relaxed droop of her grey feathered wings in snug against the curve of her sides and sighed gloomily at length. She had filled the dawn pottering amongst the annuals littering the sparse glades, where they lay clumsily exposed to the elements. Africa loved flowers; their delicate beauty and alluring smell stealing favour in her young heart, and she had foolishly lost track of the time on this occasion.
The dark grey points of her ears stood tall and alert as the air filled with soft vibrations heading the oncoming storm cell, and her withers flinched nervously, prickled perhaps by the electrical energy lacing the breeze. Then the sudden crackle of sticks breaking beneath weight snapped her attention to the left. Africa’s nostrils fluttered curiously as a black and white stallion, not dissimilar to another who she knew, found passage in her direction- she could not tell if his eyes had spotted her yet. A quiet smile dithered about the corners of her lips and she was relieved to notice the great black wings nestled into the snowy white curve of his back. As he approached rather leisurely (and still some distance away) he offered a rather polished greeting. The dapple grey mare’s smile thickened and the previous nervousness in her demeanour softened considerably as he caused pleasant distraction from the event to come. She would soon learn though that another had grabbed his attention, and she exhaled heavily with dismay.
She nickered warmly though, undeterred, and she went to stand near the Pegasus and the other- plain horse, a hint of her naive and trusting nature. “Hi, you know, you look just like someone else I know...” She mentioned brightly towards the black and white stallion with little forethought- because he did, and it was almost uncanny. Perhaps it was this which drew her so innocently towards the stranger, sliding the remaining distance between them with light, bouncing strides. He was her kind after all. Undoubtedly, she thought any blessed with wings as lovely as theirs were naturally dependable. Unlike horses whose faces were disfigured and deformed by pointed sticks and the like- Africa frowned secretly, the thought of the bully who had tormented her, was a bruise upon her memories. “I am Africa!” She continued after the flaxen haired horse had spoken, striking up the conversation as though it were something she had practiced down to a fine art. In actual fact, she was generally much shier than this- reserved and anxious.
Africa had never heard of a pirate before, but was immediately captivated by the strange manner which imprisoned Jack’s speech. “Pirates?” She laughed lightly and ignorantly closing her eyes as she did so, but she meant no offence. “What is that? I have travelled from Dragons Throat- an oasis in the desert far to the south. I am sure my family would welcome you if Jack is right, and it is a home you were searching for...” The inexperienced mare’s expression was keen with interest at the mention of Pirates, and she glanced to the Pegasus as though he might too have the same wonder glazing his eyes. Her offer was genuine never the less, and she fell into peaceable waiting, ever patient and thoughtful.
"Thinking. Speaking. Acting."
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