The ornament fell quickly as Voodoo released his grip, hitting the soft cliff-top lawn with a gentle thud. Africa watched her eyes wide and glistening as suspense gripped her pulsing heart. The young horse stared, even as it lay unmoving where it fell, and for a moment her heart sank. "There," the horned colt announced, his jaw line jerking as though to realign after having clenched for some time, perhaps with considerable pressure. "Now, what the fuck is it?"

The young mare’s eyes lifted as his lazy vocabulary delivered the rather abrupt, demanding question. With a sweet, forgiving smile she brushed his terse attitude away and giggled. “Is your mouth ok?” She asked firstly, narrowing in on the subtle flap of his breathing nostrils- his mouth wasn’t moving by then, so naturally her eye was drawn to that which was. Voodoo’s whole muzzle, she thought with an easily amused smirk, looked like it had been grown in a strawberry patch. It wasn’t very attractive, though it did for that fleeting moment cause her stomach to gurgle excitedly. She huffed light-heartedly, returning to their reality.

“How should I know...” she replied through a teasing giggle, however she did lower her quivering lips again to prod at its shining shell. “I think it’s a jewel.” She continued thoughtfully, little aware that her theory was hardly a revelation. “Back at that fire before, you know, back where you were hunting me,” Africa narrowed her eyes towards him quickly- playfully, though she was absolutely still accusing him of stirring up all the trouble which had unfolded just hours ago. “Well, there were gemstones paving the ground over which we stepped. Did you see them?” It was irrelevant whether he had or not; they did exist, and not even in the crayon dream she had crafted around them. One day Africa would return to study them more comprehensively.

“Voodoo!” She whispered suddenly, her entire tone and manner shifting to one of mystery and astonishment. The dapple grey stepped closer to the colt discretely as though sneaking, and shifted a cautious gaze about them to survey their surroundings- to see if they were being spied upon actually. Then, she lifted her face carefully to whisper confidentially in his ear- “You don’t suppose it followed us, do you?” Africa had been confident in believing that the hounds, and the storm were all vanished and over- now though, she pondered curiously if it had been real. Why were they running away? Why did they scale the side of a cliff to plunge into darkness, well below the earth?

As excitement began to roll through her core once again, Africa swung her hindquarters gently to lean against Voodoo, they were ‘pals’ after all by now- naturally, and she felt increasingly comfortable, and childishly confident in his company. His warmth spread through her like the plague, and she hastened fleeting looks between it, and him.