Look down, the ground below is crumbling
Look up, the stars are all exploding
The snap of brittle twigs and the inevitable scuff of hooves through leaf matter roused Silas’s focus from the depths of his concentrated preening- the soft murmur of movement through the forest hadn’t appealed to Africa’s level of awareness; it was as subtle as the ripple of breeze across a deep spring pool. He sought the arrival of the stranger through the dim cloak of shade while his friend stewed, lost in thought, trying to remember the way to the pigeons hillock. Through beady, shining eyes the Zephyr watched intently from the branch he was perched upon, ruffling his purple-glossed, black feathers with guarded interest. Perceptive and shrewd by nature, the avian thought initially that the unusual looking horse posed little threat to his grounded and therefore vulnerable beloved.

A deep rumbling stirred, deep inside the chest of the Zephyr and while it was not nearly loud enough for another creature to receive, Africa felt its grim counsel penetrating the depths of her gentle heart. Immediately she looked towards Silas, eyes narrowing curiously as she found him gazing steadily, fixedly, towards something behind her. That was when the slight chop of someone’s chuckle slipped through the murky stillness around them- the sound was followed instantly by a curse heralded by the same voice and tone of the latter. The young sweaty mare turned swiftly; haunches clenched tightly; tail splitting apart as it licked against pivoting, storm-grey hocks.

Africa had come across quite a diverse population of horses throughout her year in Helovia- creatures so unique that more often than not their memory lingered across the surface of her mind, penetrating dreams and fantasies. She was not a warrior at heart, being of a kindly nature and gentle, approachable soul, and so naturally she found a strong affinity with the worlds lore, vast cultures- and those of her dearly loved homeland Dragon’s Throat.
This was the main reason she did not balk and flee from the Unicorn which her intelligent eyes fell upon- lingering just beyond a clutter of woody, half-naked juvenile trees (it was difficult to thrive when sunlight across the floor of this forest was so rare).

Cautiously polite, Africa took a deep breath before offering a cool, "Hello..." As her slender, toned body came to rest head-on to the Unicorn stallion, Africa made no secret of her interest in the other, allowing free range to the hungry wanderings of her honey brown eyes. He was, to her- in contrast of her perhaps dull appearance, rather a obscure sort of appaloosa; a speckled white maw; what she imagined was a whitish scar, jagged like forking lightning right down across his right-side eye; and a blanket of rich royal red cloaking his rump- the hue, from her off centre angle was the same as the horn which speared from the very centre of his forehead.

Naturally, a discreet shiver inched along her spine, and the lance-wound’s scar upon her croup seemed to burn at that horn’s sight.