If only Africa had known that my thoughts mimicked a cry that was vaguely the same as hers. We all had burdens to carry, secrets to keep for the sake of others; yar, I kept my personal matters hidden behind a facade of pleasantries. But that was all the act was; a show of pleasant and polite responses to keep those underneath satisfied, or in most cases worry free. Sometimes, once in a very great while I got the chance to gallop across the skies in abandonment—forget my responsibilities and failures.

I could see unspoken words straining to break free from behind her eyes, it was written in the gentle folds of her delicate structure. She didn’t try to conceal it, because the way she carried herself forward seemed sloppy and distant. Discontentment was a trait that seemed keen on plaguing many of our family of late. Her soft response to my greeting was appropriate, but it lacked a sense of vigor. I lingered for a moment against her warm skin, relishing in the closeness of my ally for a few moments longer than just a polite bump.

Concern wouldn’t be forced to linger unanswered for long, Africa spoke again. My smile fell away when Africa gave a rather blunt indication that I wouldn’t find favor some of her report. My face moved aside, pulling away from her to gaze into those soft eyes with a wash of curious interest perking my ears forward. She mentioned Foothills, a changed opinion on the matter of a transgressing herd becoming our allies. I didn’t see anything wrong with this and simply nodded approvingly as Africa finished speaking about Solace. It would be nice for the rest of our family to see the new Foothills.

She paused, which gave me a chance to praise her efforts, “Aye, ye did excellent; I’m glad to hear your travels bore fruit,” gently my lips curled to offer her a favorable grin.

The Oracle turned away, successfully breaking contact. I bent my skull to follow her direction patiently—waiting for the dreary news she had promised. “I have brought from the Threshold a Unicorn. He has recently escaped the Basin.” Surprise gripped me for a moment longer than expected, ebony ears slipped back against skull as the desert lass went on to defend the unicorn which was obviously in close vicinity. For many long moments I said nothing, only listened to what she had to say.

Africa looked up, though it wasn’t to me; she was staring off toward the sea. Likely where our Basin company stood by. Finally I spoke, my voice slipped out with tender notes for her sake—but behind the tenderness was a cold hardness that she was likely unfamiliar with, “Take me to see this lad. If he is as ye say, then we shall see if our home can be shared with one of Northern blood.” The smiles had vanished from my face, in its place was a stern but relaxed mask. I wouldn’t tolerate a liar in our beds, and too often I’d had seen violence and liars breeding bastard children into this world. “Ye say he has an ailing-mind?”

I wasn’t the type to ignorantly judge someone before first sharing words with him/her; but it had become understandably hard of late to maintain patience and understanding. Especially with the threat of Basin invaders constantly nipping at our heels. Yar, people were becoming demandingly difficult to trust. I’d expected Africa to answer my questions honestly, even if it meant my judgment would land us into a disagreement—and there certainly would be a disagreement if there was even an inkling that this fellow couldn’t be trusted.

“Can the infection be mended?” I ask quietly when she demonstrated knowledge of the affliction her ‘friend’ carried. As we walk toward the foamy surf, my mind slips back to a certain painted lass; Onni had often said that she wasn’t capable of fixing inflections that involved the mind and heart. If this virus had struck him beyond repair…that in itself would be enough to warrant damnation. A decision that might test Africa’s loyalty, and my courage.

We heaved over the sandy dune just in time to catch our visitor cough out what appeared to be a mouthful of seawater. My lips remained tightly drawn in their calm, impassive line as I observed Africa’s Basin friend from a privileged distance. He either very desperate for water, or not so bright—as perhaps brought about by fault of said warring illness.

At first glance the boy certainly appeared travel weary, dark coat and long legs are drenched in a not so thin layer of muck from the woods and sand from our desert. Our company stepped from the ocean to meet our approach, I paused halfway scenting the air and simply observing during these few crucial moments. The beginnings of a smile creased my face, though anyone would had been around me could have known the difference between a beam of business, and one of genuine delight. Yar, Africa would likely know which feature would present itself.

“Midas,” I replied shortly, without frilly title. For a moment there was a lapse of silence, I took that time to quietly linger in those dark orbs; purposely searching for something that might prove threatening--issue an instant decision. Subtly my gaze shifts unimpressively ever so slightly to the oracle who had brought this creature into our home. In that same instant they snap back to the horned visitor, “Africa tells me that ye desires to stay?” A small smile and polite vocals mask any sort of inner conflict that might be residing from within—as far as anyone knew, this was just another routine joining.

We would see if this stallion’s mind was tacked in place enough to hold a reasonable conversation with his betters—and not slip into insanity. His explanation is well met and my smile softens into one of understanding tolerance. A mind would melt away when idling the hours, there was no fault in simply desiring something to occupy ones time. “There is work and fellowship aplenty dear Sir, I’m sure we can find some craft ye would enjoy doing.” Be it brawling or mending, worshiping or digging—this family had multiple outlets and seemed to possess many who where a jack of all trades. So far so good, he mentioned how Africa had changed his views and that drew my curiosity more than the mysterious way his eyes had a habit of flickering between awareness and empty space, “how so?” I ventured softly—lingering on the quiet Oracle as he had.

If this unicorn could prove to be a boon then I’d be more than happy to find a cure for his aliments. A healer who could mend the mind was worth traveling to see for the sake of a brother—‘a brother who had traveled from the land of our enemy’, my consciousness was quick to remind, ‘tis a possible traitor or liar; or worst.’ It was lucky that I followed the teachings of my father instead of those by Kri—she would have chased his newcomer a new set of legs, whereas Da schooled patience instead of violence.