Look down, the ground below is crumbling
Look up, the stars are all exploding
The rim of the threshold forest was like a warren ribbed with old scrawny redwood trees; pungent with their quite unbearably dense, summer tang; bedded intricately with a carpet of their long dead, interwoven needles, and unprotected mostly from the harshness of the season’s scorching sun, because their spindly, underdressed tips did not mesh together into vast canopies like the deep forests just to the south.
It was for many of these reasons Africa and her flighted bonded hastened between the rough trunks, questing with an ever expanding need to find respite where the woods became much denser. Both knew confidently (from repeat experience), that younger trees like slender striped birches, and their much grander neighbours- White Oak with timelessly gnarled, weather-beaten limbs and grew towards the eastern-centre; where ferns and lichen were shrouded in amble dank shade to thrive.

Onwards they delved, deeper through the shifting face of the eerie, old landscape; Africa fleet of foot, and always watchful as she passed through, and Silas the glossy black airborne Zephyr, whose sole commitment in his brief time on earth was the safety and wellbeing of his love. They slowed their determined journey only when as they slipped beneath the first boughs of the great emerald-green canopy above; the instant gratification of dense, cooling shade provoking a relieved, victorious smile across her dry, dust-tinged lips. "Soooo much better!" She sang brightly as her friend alit in a tree not far ahead of her. The young creature turned his purple masked face then, after passing an attentive eye across the grounded mare, and began to realign the windswept feathers across his breast.

Africa watched for only a few seconds before shifting her attention to the lush cover cluster of succulent lilies, and the outstanding white cup of flower in their midst. How lovely... She thought admiringly, stepping towards it, quivering muzzle reaching eagerly. She was distracted however, and Silas quite suddenly rocked from his settled perch, by the unexpected crashing of perhaps a large tree, somewhere off to their right. No path had guided them here, and all around grew thick tangles of vine and shabby undergrowth, quite impenetrable to the naked eye.
Curiously, the dappled horse glanced by Silas, the stirring of interest in her heart compelling him down in an instant to land atop her pointed, mottled withers. Carefully, Africa sought her own variation of passage through the thick mess strewn all over the forest floor, trying as best she could, to duck and weave well clear of the sticky, rotten webs which fortified any clearing.

The humidity was putrid, even in throughout the sheltered depths through which they ventured. Sleek, saturating sweat cloaked Africa’s body and a cloud of persistent flies were their ever-present company as they sought the source of the crash. Accidentally, she miscalculated the step across a small decaying log which had fallen perhaps many seasons ago. ((crack...)) The sound carried perfectly through the silence of the forest, and the mare winced apologetically as Silas’s blunted talons tightened around her sensitive skin. "Hello?" She called out then, having quite obviously shattered their cover. Should the sound have in fact been the natural process of felling trees, surely then it would only be a short distance away by now. They waited for a few minutes for any reply; the sign or signal of living company, but no voice was returned- slowly, Africa ease forward again, after a quick realignment of her turncoat hoof.

They tell me I'm too young to understand
They say I'm caught up in a dream
With a little more care and consideration towards the placement of her tread, Africa continued along the path inconspicuously enough, the young Zephyr upon her short, mottled back sitting sentry with an easy view of their surroundings. She could not recall the Threshold being so utterly overgrown, and puffed playfully at the low spread of a shaggy oak’s tired leaves as she passed beneath. Perhaps, she pondered in relative silence, the rich sunlight after the Endless Night held properties that were unseen and unfelt by the lazy presence of Helovia’s population; maybe the vegetation grew now more than ever it had, because of such exceptional nourishment. She could not say for certain what had compelled these old woods to thrive; even live through that time, but the young Pegasus was happy for the most part that it had not shrivelled away entirely with illness.

As she made her way along, the sudden flutter of her Bonded’s heart caught her attention. She drew to an instant halt, long, heavy ears searching through the trees for that which had upset the Zephyr. Warily too were her pale brown eyes hunting- and as they found the path of Silas’s gaze, Africa’s upturned nose wrinkled as she tested the air for scent.

The first rather startling thing about the unfamiliar Pegasus (who appeared to lie like a predator in waiting for the dappled mare) to note, was the striking explosion of neon, turquoise spots blanketing all, it seemed, but the creature’s raven-black shoulders, neck and well refined skull. The long, silken primary feathers and some of those which clad each wing's body were also contrasting black.
So dazzling was the hypnotic blur of colour, that Africa found herself squinting awkwardly through the blazing sunlight which already cloaked the forest. The same vibrant hue dressed the stranger’s chiselled Arabian face also; luscious locks draped to either side fading to snowy white ends.
From the angle of her approach, she could see little else and her eyes lifted carefully to find the eyes- shining, piercing aqua, glaring right at her.

Discomforted by the rather unaccommodating expression plastered across the other’s face, Africa found the mesh of muscle-work beneath her dappled coat flexing and flinching disconcertedly. "Hello?" She said quietly, naturally not an obnoxiously vocal character. "Can I help you with something?" It was the only thing she could think to ask giving that the bright, spotted mare had by then slipped out behind, onto the very path Africa and Silas had been tracing. She offered a half smile; because it was good manners.