It didn't matter how many times Kahlua clicked her heels and said there's no place like home because it wasn't working. Her hooves were even painted a sparkling ruby red color... she just didn't understand. She'd done everything right. Blue dress, red heels, wicker basket hanging from her mouth... A plush toy dog even sat in the basket. She was Dorothy through and through. It certainly seemed that way now, at least. She couldn't remember how she got into this corn maze, perhaps it really was a tornado that carried her away from home and plopped her here. At least she didn't have a house to drop on a wicked witch.

As she came to a divide, and heard rustling behind her, Kahlua turned to find that where there had just been a path, there was a path no more. Her lips turned down into a frown. She wasn't as scared as the first time she had been in this strange land, because although the mushrooms had plagued her for a while, they seemed to be gone already with no sign of return. Sighing and turning back forward, Kahlua wondered if she would be able to find a scarecrow man to call her friend. Perhaps she also needed a tin man and a lion to complete the ensemble. Certainly that would take her home, right? Sighing, she turned west (for it looked the most inviting to her) and carried on, looking about her for a straw man to call her own.

OOC| Kahlua is Dorothy from Wizard of Oz and went West.

Look down, the ground below is crumbling
Look up, the stars are all exploding
A cool wash of milky-blue light shed across the path of the young dappled mare. Keen she was to explore beneath the fullest, largest moon she could remember, and with a brave smile she glanced upwards towards its gleaming face. The ravening call of a native wolf some distance away drew Africa’s attention downward again, just as a shiver crawled eerily along the bony length of her spine. She had not travelled here before she thought, though the choking scent of her kind, of other Helovian souls, clung thick and pungent to the crackling grass beneath. Occasionally she paused to consider their identities, rummaging between the dried grasses with whiskered lips, but seldom was she able to recognise those who had passed through first.

Around her slim shoulders was draped a sheet, tightly woven with reeds and bulrush, glistening fresh green in the moonlight. It spread further back to cloak her rump, and downwards with enough length to skirt her scrawny red-dyed knees. At her right side, a large wing tinged ochre by the ground-down rocks of her homeland, stretched regally upwards from beneath the swishing brim of her costume. So too did the sheet reach upwards along her neck, with two narrow holes atop the poll to hug her listening ears. Her pale grey face was stained also with the thickly laden desert dust, the mask offering her a fierce and beautiful profile. Africa was dressed this night as a Dragon in honour of those she had met throughout the last year. The small scaled creatures had left naught but a tender impression in her heart, and so fitting was her choice.

Soon her wandering led to a vast field of corn- unusual she thought, passing a curious glance backwards to where her bonded rested comfortably, over the entwined fronds. Silas too was watching with mixed interest, his shining black eyes darting cautiously to the old, worn track laid before them. Left and right she drifted along; compelled to continue although neither Zephyr nor horse could tell where they had come.

With a sudden jerk Africa halted. For a moment she wondered if perhaps she had fallen into sleep; whether this were a dream, or another curse. She could not remember how far she and Silas had walked, and an uneasy feeling began to swell through her trembling body. Peering down, reaching with fluttering nostrils, she assessed the unexpected fork in the road- that which had wrenched her from that tranquil surreal state. Three definite directions lay before her, each shroud in new, spooky darkness- clouds now blanketed the night sky, and only by the grace of her recent cave-dwelling was she truly able to see. She turned, considering quickly that a swift retreat in the direction she had come would surely be the safest option, but alas the path they had been following was no longer. The corn had grown densely in behind her and Africa began to tremble more, stirring a worried chirp from Silas.

With an apprehensive sigh, she stepped forward, selecting at random the path that seemed to lead East.

Look down, the ground below is crumbling
Look up, the stars are all exploding
The eerie wind whispered through the gentle weaving which bound the reeds together into Africa's hand-crafted Dragon-suit. Beneath, her warm skin prickled as the strange, rushing breath touches against it, cooling the sweat which stains the hidden grey dapples a coaly sort of black. The young horse's only wing clenched tightly against the flapping cloak, sleek and glossy in the unnatural half-light, all feathers flattened with nervous tension. She was not frightened- more anxious as she trekked carefully along the beaten path which curled on (endlessly it seemed), into the east of the vast, creepy cornfield.

Occasionally, more often than either Africa or Silas would have preferred, haunting cries and other grim sounds peeled through the thick, intimidating silence surrounding them. Silas stood rigid where he remained, though soon after they had turned onto this path he had clawed into a more elevated position atop his beloved's pointed, clothed withers. Bravely he held vigil there, searching always around them for any flickering movement, or any sign that these wretched noises were unnervingly closer than presumed. With little other option, and the corn closing snuggly together at their rear, the friends continued on cautiously.

Soon they stumbled upon another fork. Through a reluctant sigh Africa questioned aloud, that trail which seemed to turn northward. "I can't see more than darkness Silas…" The young horse groaned; peering intensely through squinting rows of thick black lashes. She turned then towards the other option which guided them in the opposite direction to the south. Both she and the Zephyr's breath choked as they gazed suspiciously down through the narrow gap in the corn. There, a horrid red haze seemed to illuminate the path and Africa began to shake her head definitively. Silas too found no appeal down that course, and was relieved when his friend turned back NORTH and stepped past the fork, to continue that way.

Naturally, the night-dark creature felt more at home and as they descended into the thick cloud of darkness, a trail of dusty starlight streamed behind him. All around them, sinister laughter echoed as though from the maze itself.

Many sounds echo around from all directions as the stallion continues forward determined to find the way out of this stupid maze. As the path yet again splits in two his pace stills scanning each route with much scrutiny only to be yet again dismayed at the neverending stalks of corn. Lashing his tail against his sides in frustration a sigh escapes his throat. How long would this adventure continue? Would there ever be a conclusion to this madness or would it proceed forward? Now was one of the times that he wished he could take to the skies and feel free to go where he pleased without the limitation of being earthbound. Others before him had wings gifted to them yet so far he had not heard from them, had they taken the chance and escaped or had something else met them in their flight?

Whatever was causing these strange occurances would likely want to control every aspect of the game, without a doubt something would have prevented flight becoming an option. The faintest of wind rustled through the corn stalks picking up his cape for brief seconds before it once again fell slack against his side. This thing was beginning to be more of a pain then it was worth, it would be nice if it would just stay in its proper place and not be so itchy! Careful to avoid the artificial fangs this time he grasped the fabric between the cusps of his incisors to put it back over his loins. Once satisfied yet again he debated on which way he would chose this time to bring him to his freedom. Closing his silver eyes he allowed his other senses to focus on picking up anything that may serve useful. One direction brought the distinct sound of hunting wolves while the other emitted some strange groaning sounds from heavens knows what.

Now the only question was did he want to risk running into a pack keen on the hunt to kill or shall he take the risk of whatever lay to the east? Carnivorous wolves could be dealt with should their only be a couple but a pack proved to be much more formidable causing his luck to run thin. Weighing the options his decision was clear as he turned to the east with confidence. Senses on high alert he moved as silently as possible down the eastern path curious yet unsure as to what would behold him around the next turn. Hopefully his senses would prove to be correct and lead him out of this hell.

ooc: Ciceron travels East still dressed in his vampire costume.