Look down, the ground below is crumbling
Look up, the stars are all exploding
There were so many faces now calling the desert home, yet Africa felt as though she knew but a select few of them. The Throat’s ever expanding family shifted like the red-rust sands in the winds of time; more came, though unfortunately it often seemed that they were a gift to replace the groups who would not remain long term. It was no easy task, selling the burning realm to those Helovian wanderers, and the travellers who came from afar. Dragon’s Throat was not nestled into a hillside, flourishing with abundant flora or cool during the hottest of Tallsun’s days- it was a brutal, unforgiving terrain which many found discomforting and quite against their instinctual preference. Yes, the main herd bedded in the materialistic luxury of the hidden oasis, but life in the desert was complicated and raw.
There was however, for those seldom souls who were ambitious, determined and open-minded enough to commit to it, a tightly woven family thriving against all odds. They were led by fearless leaders, rulers who deflected waves stirred by the antagonistic, lustful glower of their foes- time and time again. Africa was proud to call such a mighty, inexorable kingdom home; and she loved those who she lived alongside within it.

It was still early morning, the sunlight still but a softened wash of yellow glow, peering across the distant eastern horizon at the Throat. Africa stirred from a restful sleep about then, and yawned at length before rising slowly to stretch the sleep from her lax limbs. The new day offered a countless opportunities should they be sought, and Africa began at once to sift through ideas as they swept into the forefront of her mind. "Would you like to practice today, Silas?" She asked the still dozing Zephyr firstly, throwing a playful glimpse his way. Silas fluffed his cloak of sleek, glossy black feathers, the gentle warmth of the early sun warming them without the intensity and excess which would undoubtedly follow even hours later. Lifting his face casually, he spared a flickering glance at his beloved through one beady black eye, but closed it immediately after- remaining snug where he was, nestled into a rock crag above her.

Together Africa and her bonded mostly slept by the cover of a small cave she had discovered early during her time in Helovia; Silas had been barely a flutter in his parents thoughts at that time. It lay apart from the oasis, and mainstream activity of the herd- offering the duo some peace and privacy, beneath a sheer wall of limestone rock (the beginning of a timeless wave, crafted by the elements over many, maybe millions of years.
The dappled mare slipped through the gaping hole to their den and out into the sticky, already warm air which seemed to be a perpetual nuisance this time of year. “Oh, how lovely a bitter ocean breeze would be right about now...” She mumbled with a sigh, sweat already strewn in grim dark pools across her wingless shoulder. Quietly and delicately she moved from the cave, leaving her sleeping companion for the time being.
Both knew little harm would come to Africa within the well guarded walls of their homeland, and so it was that the little Zephyr was prepared to indulge himself with such sleep-ins- a creature of the night he was, and while the world slumbered peacefully in the darkness, he could usually not.

She made for the oasis, first at a leisurely, slippery walk, but soon broke into a swift trot as the morning sun bore into her easily heated core. While she waited for Silas, Africa made the decision to visit the desert’s life-blood- the great shimmering blue lake around which life could prosper. Naturally she presumed there would be company for her there, perhaps undertaking in the very same ritual (bathe, drink and freshen up in general).

It did not take her long to cover the distance between her cave and the oasis, and once free of the unpredictable nature of the burning sand she found her journey far easier. Downwards she pressed on, her sharp hooves cutting deeply into the well nourished soil; wispy palm fronds and overgrown fernery whipping her as she passed. The oasis covered a large area of land, right in the desert’s very centre, and it was not so simple to cross the whole way in one day on foot alone- and that was how Africa was forced to travel these days.
Eventually she scurried down the slightly trampled, familiar embankment that slipped away into the cool water, and in she crashed- desperate really, for the relief which was so openly offered. She did not right away spot the other horse; the stallion who too was taking a dip in the lake, and almost hurtled right into him. Instead, having pulled up her mass in the nick of time, Africa sent a considerable wave rolling wildly towards him. "Goodness! I’m so sorry, are you alright?"