Note: This thread follows on from This Threshold Thread, which was dated 5-13-13; well before Africa’s capture. It also occurs far before the darkness from the site wide plot- sometime in late Orangemoon I think.


Higher still than the blanket of wispy thin clouds which still clutched tightly onto Frostfall’s first snowfall, Africa soared in a southerly direction. She rode skilfully the swirling currents which tickled the flimsy black flight feathers lining her base of her broad wings, checking back in sweeping glances to see if Tesande was travelling comfortably. Diligently, she allowed vast space between their airborne bodies for fear of wings clipping one another, or slip-streams skewing balance. All around the glorious arc of blue-wash sky embraced her, and the sun which had climbed to its highest peak shed golden warmth atop her passing form.

There was little reason to talk, or shout as it would need to be if either were to be heard above the roar of rushing wind around them; the ambience seemed perfect, natural and serene. Instead she through a frequent grin towards her travel-mate, not ever relinquishing the buoyancy that had been sparked between their well-matched, bubbly personalities. To Africa, who had negotiated the distance between Helovia’s wooded rim, and her desert home, the journey seemed to whisk by. Before she knew it, the burning centre of the whole country was flickering below them, and she had descended through the cloud cover so that they could view what lay sprawled below. She guided Tesande slightly left, around the column of thick black smoke which rose- she presumed, forever and the young grey gestured downward zealously with a bobbing head to point it out in reference to her story.

Basically right after they had passed Helovia’s Heart, the border of the desert became visible- obviously discernible because of the half built ebon wall that clashed with natural the red-orange of the sandy landscape. The tiny figure of a pale-hued horse crawled about busily, much the size of an ant, thought Africa quite entertained as she glided steadily above. When the wall was quite behind, the mottled mare began a gentle descent, dipping her wings and sinking in short graceful bursts towards the growing, shimmery illusion of an oasis ahead. Only when the landmark, and the life-source of Dragon’s Throat was within comfortable walking distance did she lower completely and settle softly into the slippery, warm sand substrate.

Turning to watch the arrival of her brand new herd-sister, Africa could not hide her happiness. “This is the desert!” She explained, hardly realising that her point was plainly obvious. “And the oasis here is where our family live contentedly.” She was swinging her weight backwards and forwards impatiently, as she breezed through Tesande’s initial introduction to what would hopefully be her long term home. “I have a small cavern below these cliffs here!” She continued eagerly, turning to face one of the grand limestone rocks just outside the lush sanctuary ,that could easily have passed for a mountain chain. Africa burst into a lively canter, a spray of crimson sand flying in her careless wake. It was not far at all from their landing point, and within moments Africa was slowing beneath the thick shade cast by the hefty mass of weathered red rock.