They tell me I'm too young to understand
They say I'm caught up in a dream
Africa was no hallucination; she was living, breathing; flesh and blood.
Even while she could not penetrate the thoughts of the replica grey before her (aside of course from the wing which alas, was not present across her own left shoulder), the young Oracle could feel the writhing cloud of apprehension which simmered through the ridged, grey puddled shell, which was still paused and positioned cautiously; watching, as though with baited breath. Africa felt empathy flood through her pumping veins. She knew all too well from repeat experience that souls wounded by both physical and emotional traumas were so aloof like this- so guarded and untrusting. Hearts were not easy to mend, the brim of her own throbbing vessel still bore the frills of the agony she had endured, but memories did fade through the breath of times; new experiences always clouded the old. So too were there ways to heal the body- should this mare, Africa’s distant kin, be hiding any such injury, magic would repair and restore strength, and the Throat’s tender shaman were brilliant wielders of that.

As the quiet-hearted grey lingered patiently in front of the stranger, the soft smile remained; lifting her expression into something which exuded understanding and compassion- she meant well, and wanted only to portray as much, to ease the tension and extend to her friendship, security and comfort.
Africa’s long ears were already fixed forward carefully, and when the other mare began to speak; a receptive breath fluttered outwards through flaccid, velvet grey nostrils. “Nope." She chuckled freely, without strain or force, though not mockingly in any respect. The unsettled stranger had stepped towards Africa, the turtle-paced gesture noted and respected aptly by the perceptive mare’s ever-watching gaze. With the same slowness, she too stepped, and through that motion extended her neck to its full capacity, reaching with trembling lips to touch she who still was so disbelieving of her authenticity. Hot, calm breath spread forth from stilled, silent nostrils; a friendly greeting, so natural and respectful. “See, as real as the wilderness around us!" By nature she was an approachable, cheerful soul and for not one second did she quash that truth, aiming perhaps to lighten the mood of the Pegasus, now so close before her. She drew a long breath and retracted her face, her chin bobbing comfortably at around the same level as her naked, wingless shoulder. “You speak like you are the last of our kind.

There are many of us here in Helovia- this forest, the world you are standing in right now. I come from a close knit family, primarily winged beings who take in those of us who are lost and wearied. We are a home for all Pegasus- though we do offer more than safety and a bed.” Africa nodded as though to emphasise the last of her words. Indeed there were many more complexities to the life of a herd-member than simply waking up to wander the dunes each day; unless that was their preference (Africa had done simply that for a good few months before aspiring to commit more of herself to the Throat, and further herself before the devoted eyes of her peers. That could be explained much later however. “What is your name?”


Ooc: -shucks :3- your writing is beautiful and meaningful, very easy respond to because you have put so much effort in :D Glad you joined us.