They tell me I'm too young to understand
They say I'm caught up in a dream
Enough was enough.

Africa felt with a twinge of guilty restlessness, that she had devoted enough moving time soaking her burning dappled coat and weary aching muscles. Individually, the slippery dry sand covering the desert, and the obnoxious shed of sunlight were trying enough- but the rash young mare had chosen to tackle both at once today, in the hope that her effort might please the God her new role wished to favour; because he was the God of the Sun, and she was so utterly thankful he had risen her to be this herd’s Oracle.

She felt renewed enough, even after just minutes, though the stark chill of the water had leaked between the clench of her lashes and the pale eyes beneath did sting a little. Africa was no fish, and with thrusting, awkward strides turned her weightless bulk around, sliding a little more quickly from the fluids tight grip than she had entered. Blurry eyes blinked away the beading water, alternating the flick of each lid to avoid the influx of bright, unadulterated light hurting them further.
The warmth of the air embraced her saturated, dripping body as it finally emerged from the lake, pausing to shake with knees still trapped beneath, and hooves sucked below the muddy sand-line. It was a hefty action, and crystal-like beads sprayed away from her in a shimmering shower. At last, when her pale eyes opened they were caught immediately in the web cast by an intimidating, predator like stare.

With a start and reeling stomach Africa stumbled backwards into the water, an instinctive response, though the owner of those shining, unwavering eyes; the focused, fixed ears and jet-black face beneath; the creepy voice to match, did not immediately follow like one hunting should. Carefully evaluating eyes traced the remaining figure (the unusually and quite noticeably engorged barrel), of a mare behind; a herd-sister; the Sleuth, Shadow!

The surge of resentment which rumbled in the base of Africa’s throat was swiftly quelled by the release of a half-hearted chuckle. It was a cruel joke (not that Shadow could have known the one-winged mare’s history with ravenous black monsters), though as her nerves began to settle beneath trembling skin, she did manage to find the lighter side of it. The dark mare’s voice faded into the chorus of lounging birdlife and she ambled forward, lowering lips to the water. “I am moving nests." Africa said brightly, eyes following the face of the other from above while she drank. They were two entirely different personalities, she thought quietly, failing to realise that she was staring rather bare-facedly as she considered her clan-mate; who was playful in exactly the reverse way. “I see your point though…" The quiet-hearted grey added slowly, cocking her head as the revelation of her absurdity sank in.

Shadow lifted from the Throat and turned, wobbling back to the tree line from which she had ‘pounced’- Africa accepted the slightly offhand gesture to follow and trotted lithely after; detouring for the briefest of moments to collect between her teeth once more, the makeshift basket housing her belongings.

Pulling into the black mare’s shady possie, the dappled Pegasus smiled broadly and plopped herself to the Sleuth’s side, facing the water. “Nice spot..." She motioned awkwardly, glancing by the dress of fronds and vegetation surrounding. Really, the pair were still strangers, but Africa liked the look of Shadow- no matter how rough around the edges she seemed to be. With a contented sigh she settled, parcel nestled against her fore-hooves.