In the night the stormy night she'll close her eyes
In the night the stormy night away she'd fly
Across the small distance, pale eyes were unable to properly discern the manner of his expression; the delight perhaps that long awaited company had found him at last- come to cure the bitter pangs of loneliness; or the sullen glower which wished her overly optimistic, enthusiastic vocal chords back the way they had come. Long charcoal-dusted ears leaned forward with interest; focused squarely upon the rippling image of his sunlit hide should any response be offered. There was nothing, no sign or signal of acknowledgement aside from the initial shift of his form after she had first called. Africa sighed impatiently, the blanket of summer’s bothersome warmth cutting her tolerance far short of its usual long-suffering nature. To her rear, long thick cords of matted, tangled tail flicked across pointed hocks, warding off the unavoidable swarm of flies which always accompanied the hottest months.

Silas grew tired; his powerful wings wearing over the course of time which spilt between the two stagnant horses- the Pegasus, and the Equine. Like is elusive ancestors, the great mythical beings who travelled endlessly towards the horizon, the young Zephyr was not built to hover in place for extended periods; he had not the vivacity of a hunting, waiting hawk. He was a creature born to soar and glide without the strain of overlay exaggerated movement.
While the stranger still stood motionlessly in the not too far away distance, Silas descended from his lofty position, sharp though careful talons reaching to grasp the curve of his beloved’s murky grey back. He settled quickly then; raven-black wings tucking loosely to each side, claws treadling gently to secure his post, and the avian clucked quietly as he did. The glare of the sun across his glossy black cloak concealed well the speckling of stars which were strewn across him.

Finally the other turned and stepped from his business towards Africa and Silas. The dappled mare chuffed quietly, the almost inaudible sound a confusion of her relief and gladness. The Zephyr upon her back craned forward to see throw adept, raptor-like eyes, the stallion approaching at long last, and his beady black gaze narrowed critically to assess any flashes of personality beneath the rather complacent expression- it was his duty after all, to protect the frail-minded mare, even before she could defend herself. Silas watched intently the sudden gape of the stallion’s pale stare, it was difficult to miss; hints of the palest blue, perhaps spilt from the gates of heaven, buried against rich mahogany; and still further beneath the idle drape of loose, thick black forelock to the side of his face. A throaty rumble resonated through his slight frame and the Zephyr puffed his feathers standoffishly in response to that gaze transferring to himself.

Pale cream coloured eyes received him cheerfully, their depths pooling with polite warmth and Africa dipped her pale young face to the sound of his unexpectedly deep, obscure voice. Its tune mellowed, sinking into the searing heat of the southern region and the gentle-hearted mare figured opportunistically that anything further would be unlikely. “I’m Africa.” She indulged him freely, her voice; its delicate chime a bright contrast to the drone of his own. A generous smile pulled her dry smoky-grey lips into a broad, overly hopeful smile.
She had come across many during recent travels who were short of manners, social ability or common sense, and while the grey was cautious not to conclude him to be of that quality, she added encouragingly, “Who are you?” With patience renewed, Africa leaned gently left so that left hoof beneath her flinching hock could rest a short while.

[I am SO sorry D:]