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Young and naive, Africa had come to Helovia quite deliberately, both on a quest to discover the magical lands built throughout her mother’s fairy-stories, and with the subconscious intention to learn her true purpose in life. As seen through the eyes of one so young- both in spirit and in age, Helovia was an unexplored map which wrought endless confusion; a treasure chest of possibilities that only understanding could unbolt. Still mostly unmarred by the intimidating world around her, she was a slate waiting to be engraved; a leaf dancing wildly on the breeze.
Apparently their search for either Shaman was short-lived. The enthusiasm in her mind, the blind, impulsive desire to commence and engross herself into some form of study; it was all sidetracked, while she watched the contorting lips of Sohalia as they continued with enduring patience, to feed her determined hunger for knowledge. The commotion surrounding the lake- the chipping frog, the shrill song of exotic birds, even the suck of hooves leaving the mud, all seemed to fade away around the dapple grey and her clean white company. "Well, Africa, keep in mind that I cannot speak from personal experience..." Sohalia had warned kind-heartedly. Africa nodded quickly, the thick drape of light grey forelock bouncing along freely with the motion, and the sensible (she had already determined) mare continued. “...but my understanding is that somehow or other...” Paying special attention, the Pegasus tilted her face, a stern form of curiosity marbling her pale white features. Long though proportionate ears leaned against the sound of Sohalia’s gentle voice, it was soothing and calm; captivating in a sense, but so was the topic.
An unfortunate series of events had swayed Africa onto her chosen path, to heal, and really the decision had been a rash one; formed through sorrow and emotion, and fuelled by the unexpected witnessing of violence between one warrior and one untrained fool. The fight had been unmatched, and while she could not have been more relieved (and safe) at the result- the grim thrashing inflicted on the lesser stallion, his maiming had stirred the sudden desire to heal. She was a work in progress realistically, and every influence etched experience and new resolution into her wide-open mind. The art of mending held only a small percentage of the ideas and wishes evolving in her heart.
“I am going to learn the process myself..” She muttered aloud in response, through a brooding smile. Her eyes which had dropped to study the illusion of herself and a creature much like Midas’ as crafted by Sohalia’s words returned, beaming with renewed motive. “I wonder if I will ever be bonded...” It wasn’t a question exactly, just an uttered consideration, and her museful, distant voice was filled with wonder.
“I’m sorry that I keep asking so many questions,” Africa apologised suddenly, as though stirring abruptly from a dream cluttered slumber. “You are so helpful. I guess I was carried away in the moment.” The spinning thoughts had not lulled however, nor had the invigorated sparkle reflecting through her eyes. For now her endeavour to heal had been laid to rest, the idea discarded carelessly. “I honestly have no idea where to begin though, is there another I should seek? Somebody who could point me in the right direction?” Despite the barefaced questioning, Africa remained polite and gracious.
"Thinking. Speaking. Acting."
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[O] actions write the melodies to the songs that we sing
