Look down, the ground below is crumbling
Look up, the stars are all exploding
Perhaps the distraction would be that turning point after months of despair. Maybe it was just to be another fleeting moment in time, grasping the beaten creature’s dithering awareness for only a split second; cutting free her thought-pattern from the shackles of melancholy, and spiralling light through the grim, dark caverns of her mind- only before relapse again drew its heavy curtains across her world. Hot salty tears brewed beneath the hopeless droop of long black lashes, and while for now she did not cry, dry channels through the caked grime drifted down across her cheeks- evidence that many had already been shed.

Zephyr and Pegasus saw the blur of his movement ahead, both in the same instant, though darkness did conceal the stranger well. Africa’s expression remained mostly unmoved by the immediate presence of company, yet her bonded’s brow arced as his keen eyes narrowed in on the figure who now hesitated in front of the patch of tightly clumped trees. A low, guarded murmur resonated deep within his chest before the young voice pierced the looming silence once again. "Who is here? I am Nym."

Nym...? Africa’s long ears stiffened, and her skull lifted a little as the name echoed like clarion bells through her rotting mind. It was not familiar, and a brisk apprehensive sigh puffed through her flaccid, fluttering nostrils.

There was no cruel hunger snaking through the colt’s tone; no callousness, nor scorn. Nothing to provoke the growing suspicion in her heart, though tension did still stir far down inside her; it seemed inevitable while old dry blood was still caked into the oily matt of her hair. Frostfall thus far had been dry, and Africa had not thought to cleanse her body of the Basin’s bitter tarnish. Still, Smoke’s healing; the fusing of broken bones and ruptured muscles had purified her in some magical sense, and the putrid stench which should have clouded around her was absent.

Silas, still stationed upon the grey mare, fluffed his dress of sleek black and nestled down closer to her trembling hide.

The muffled thud of travelling hooves followed the smoothness of the colt’s waning voice, and the shadowy form of him smeared ahead, across the path Africa had been following- and then back again to the other side. "Where are you?" He called, and the subtle disappointment filling his question struck a frayed chord in her gentle heart. Deliberately, though without speaking, the mare cocked a hind leg and grazed the worn trail beneath with the sharp rim of her inclined hoof. A small parcel of gravel scattered, and the sound should have been loud enough to lure the younger horse’s search towards her direction.