Around them, shimmering bronze leaves rippled when stroked by the gently wafting breeze, clutching tightly until their strength failed; then they spiralled wildly and helplessly, downward to settle against the mat of already fallen, decaying litter across the floor. This part of the Threshold forest was not so dense, perhaps younger and less weathered, and the spindly pines grew with slender, clean trunks. Juvenile cedars and loose clutters of aspen found root where gaps were left, many other woodland species too. There was room enough there, for a horse to turn and move with fluidity and ease. Occasionally a weak tree had succumbed to its failing health, or its base rotted through, falling to die gradually at the harvesting bite of termites and encompassing mould. Africa remembered them all devotedly, perhaps finding more comfort in the company of the timber, than her equine counterparts in fact.

Never the less, she basked in the comfortable atmosphere building about her conversation with Antistata... “Forgive me... She interrupted offhandedly though meaning no offence as she did so- even before the other mare had begun to talk. Actually, at that point her company appeared to be hesitating awkwardly across her answer to the dapple grey’s own question. Africa naturally acted upon her impulses with little to no consideration prior- this was one of those moments. “I don’t mean to offend, but Antistata seems like such a mouthful. Do you mind if I shorten your still lovely name, to Ann?” An apologetic smile mellowed her gaze. There was a pause allowed then for the mare’s confirmation- or not...

"I..." After the abruptness of Africa’s disruption, Ann began to speak though she quickly paused again, appearing to study the grey Pegasus in thought. "I think it's been around four years now."
Taken aback, the young mare’s jaw slackened slightly. “That's longer than I have been alive!” She exclaimed childishly and surprised, as though it held some relevance in in the matter. Ann leaned forward into a languid stroll and Africa, the modest gape of her mouth and all, followed suit unquestioningly.

“Four years is a very long time...” She confirmed dismally, the thought escaping aloud while her lips remained parted. Pensively, her creamy eyes scanned the spread of grass and tree debris beneath her swift step; she hastened into a brief trot so that they might walk shoulder to shoulder. “What now? Africa asked finally, lifting the bob of her head so that she could smile towards the brown and white mare. “Is it a family you seek? Or would you prefer to continue your seclusion from mainstream society.” She exhaled quietly, still watching with unflinching interest.