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Note: Set after Africa arrives in World’s Edge to be healed but before the darkness, and before she is delivered home to the Throat... –museoverflowcannotbewithheld-
A bitterly cold wind buffeted the lone decent of a mottled grey figure who balanced carelessly, descending the precarious pumice-stone steps roughly connecting the cliff top realm of World’s Edge, with the white shoreline of the arced bay who stretched southward, far beneath. Wild and unruly, angry tangles of thick oily mane whipped about her weathered expression, and behind her slow, awkward amble, the long chaos of black tail licked and lashed the boulder lined passage in her wake. The salt-spray spewed off gushing waves that crashed across and gnawed at the flimsy, sodden beach; and borne across the violently churning air, it burnt her squinting, helpless gaze whenever she peered to secure her path down. She did not care though; its sting was like that of a meagre splinter compared to the grief and torment which plagued her thoughts; and ruined her gentle heart.
The constant roar of the furious ocean below penetrated her mind, and offered some distraction, respite from the overwhelming sense of melancholy and despair which fractured and fermented her spirit. Africa needed to escape the unrelenting cloud of confusion; the nagging guilt which only seemed amplified by the presence- no matter how warm and tender, of friends and family alike. She had taken leave from their genial guard early in the afternoon and slipped through the mists of that old, mysterious forest to stew perhaps, or align her scrambling thoughts in to some kind of sense. She did not intend to be away long.
Silas had been entrusted with her care, whether by his own accord or the vigilance of Africa’s rescuers, and fluttered by her as she scaled the steep cliff; his breath snagging in the base of his throat whenever she slipped or skidded across rock slick with icy sludge- her balance was skewed. The wind made his duty difficult, and much energy was sapped from him while he fought to remain by her side. Only when her weary hooves had safely found their purchase, slipping into the wet sands marking the beach did his concern settle marginally; and together they pushed towards the thrashing waves, the white horses whose deafening cry quenched the mare’s thirst for inner silence.
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