They had been separated not long after parting with the old wrinkled ancients of the Threshold Forest; the dappled Oracle and the pained stallion that had caused her such concern had agreed to meet again by the parched shores of the desert kingdom. As the meadow opened before them, a sea of swaying gold, Africa had found a succulent that she had not before seen- the plant was as pale as the straw it bedded with, though not so weak and windblown; it was sheathed in long spines which would take much longer to unearth than she was willing to hold her new found friend up deliberating over. What was most astounding about the water-storing plant, was the vivid purple bloom embellishing its chunky stem, and the captivated Oracle could simply not pass by the opportunity to seize its beauty. “Go on ahead Windwalker...” she had reassured her restless company, “...continue south and this pasture will transform into a barren land with a pit of molten water in its centre; Helovia’s Heart. Continue, this place will cause you no affliction, and beyond its funnel of smoke lies the great wall by our boundary. It is not yet finished, and you will be able to pass through with ease. If any find you, say simply that Africa sent you from the Threshold and they will welcome you with the warmth of our kind.

I will follow swiftly, but I must bring with me this specimen!”

With the rare cactus-plant clenched between the unfeeling, numb quills lining her only wing, Africa made haste along the winding path chosen by the hooves of her stallion friend. The thorns gouged brazenly against the warm flesh of her barrel but she figured bravely, defiantly, that such a price was meagre for the sake of the prize brought along the way. She was impressed by both the clarity of his direction- his ability to maintain the southerly route, and also the speed at which he trekked. His scent was thin where his hooves had cut, which meant naturally that he had not been there for some time already. It compelled her faster and faster; long lean legs which now held the stamina for such travel (unlike those Pegasi who traversed the highways of the air), gobbled greedily the shifting earth beneath and she passed fleetingly through each region in her path.

Late in the afternoon, with tumbling grey clouds rising like a wall through the blue, the Oracle stumbled into the borderline of Dragon’s Throat. The ominous fortification which marked the line of the territory rose high into the air above her, and like always, she stopped to admire it’s ferocity respectfully- Silas scaled its topmost point with ease, sliding down along roused winds to find the withers of the mare he loved so. "Windwalker?" Africa asked him curiously through the silent passage of their minds, simplifying any conversation attempted because the skill was still so raw and new to them both. The answer was a simple yes, conveyed with ease and triumph- both of which were snapped up readily by the mare.

Sharp, ravenous eyes had spotted the recruit some time before- he had not yet ventured past the wall and the cloud of dust surrounding his position had been further to the west; perhaps he had been too nervous to step without the Oracle into the vast world of opportunity opening before him.

Africa followed the shadow of her Bonded closely; passing upwards several glances to be certain the waning sun was not toying with her own direction. The Zephyr’s dark outline across her was long and heavy as the light began to darken; grim clouds, perhaps not pregnant with anything greater than a fleeting shower, spilt through the arc above.

A giant sneeze drew her cautious ears forward, and soft yellow eyes peeled to examine the vicinity ahead. She could see that not so close to where the wall would eventually stand (it was not yet crafted to this point), Windwalker was standing splay-legged, like a foal who was struggling to assume balance. Quickly too it became apparent to her spread, testing nostrils, that he was now shroud in the rust-red dust of their home. As she drew near, Silas descended towards her and they both halted before the bedraggled stallion, Zephyr perched comfortably upon her back. A cheerful giggle softened to mood though it in no way fed on the obvious discomfort of the other. "You are dressed like you have lived with us for years." She chortled, reaching for the first time to sooth him with a tender-hearted bump of her nose. "I hope your journey was easy enough. Please forgive me for bailing that way; I suppose greed has strange effects on us all." She opened her lonely wing then and away fell the treasure she had abandoned him for, falling in a limp clump on the sandy, hard soil between her fore and hind-quarters. "Perhaps it stores fluid with medicinal qualities. It has to grow in the Oasis before we will know though." Africa shrugged, at ease in the company of the ebony beast more so than before because they were now herd mates- and she invested every part of herself altruistically into those she loved and served; her family.

"Come now," she said, sweeping a complete glance across him and turning then to take him the last leg home... "Let’s get you freshened up. There is more to this desert than meets the eye." Gently she guided their path inland, and as the sun began to sink into night’s suffocating breath Africa and Windwalker arrived by the edge of the vast lake; the Throat itself.


(Ooc: I hope you don’t mind I power-played a little bit in this post towards the beginning. I am more than happy to edit it of course, I just wanted their separate arrivals to make a bit more sense.)

Africa

She had mulled over his eloquent words for the final reach of their tedious journey- dull only for the lack of altitude and grace blessed upon them when with feathers they had both been born. The Oracle liked him; felt a sheer sense of duty towards her new friend and the so subtle frailty of his unusual heart. It was true that she had felt similarly to a vast mass of bodies who had been too and from her world of rich red-gold and suffocating dry, that was the reality of her nature- a direct result of the tenderness in an otherwise conflicted heart. This creature however, who chose (perhaps? She could not tell yet) to stroll the length of the world just as she had been made to; whose tongue rolled with such simple grace and depth; with eyes were no more immoral than a scaled fish yearning after the fly whose last breath struggled against the barriers of watery doom, touched the weary sensitivity of her soul and challenged its worth. To her, he was as pure to look upon as Midas- unknown and still wildly curious in many ways, but with that mild-manner that seemed so effortlessly easy to trust.

"Oh no!" She cursed herself silently, in the veil of her guilty mind. Africa had left behind her prize- the plant, and suddenly her eyes glazed with disappointment. Silas felt the cloud of distress fray the nerves in her core and shifted, discomforted, with splayed wings. He probed her softly, searching for the cause of the unexpected stress and found for himself the image of the cactus lying and dying without the earth to cloth its helpless roots. Long-suffering wings of sleek black and purple-gloss spread to receive the cool updraft of a bursting southerly, and he lifted without the need to flap; circling a number of times above their heads as he rose into the cloud strewn sky and away to retrieve that which was so harmlessly forgotten. His dear-hearted beloved had become so critical of herself in more recent times, and it worried him extremely.

"I’m sorry Wind," she mumbled softly, fighting the frustration which was so alien and revolting as it crossed her sweet, pale expression. Surely her error was an innocent mistake, but too easily was she troubled. "Silas is going to find the plant. I forgot about it completely... After making such a grand fuss over it- She sighed and smiled, eased for the better by the kindness of the words before given to her by the jet-black stallion (with the snowy white blemish upon his wing). Actually, the seemingly innocent Oracle, who had committed much dishonour in her short time on earth already, understood completely the revelation of her philosophical company. She would have liked to start again also, again, but she knew with trembling apprehension that without facing the demons of her past, she would never wear that fresh new face of rebirth.

Regardless of her own trivial woes, she nodded altruistically in response- delayed, but focused and caring. When they had stopped by the still waters; the lifeblood of this herd, she turned his way and drew a long breath. "If you are willing to begin your life again this moment, I will be your greatest support. Know too though, that if it isn’t so simple as forgetting all you have been through, you will not have failed yourself, me, or any of your family in the Throat. To make this journey easier, heed my suggestion because it is heartfelt." How ever they had come to stand together by the lake as evening settled upon their shoulders, the Oracle reached to brush the wisp of her fine whiskers against him affectionately. "Build a network of friends here- Alina and Midas are the dearest who come to mind.” (Africa could not have known of the burden weighing so heavily upon the back of their painted Sultan- should she have been so aware, perhaps she might have thought twice about suggesting him as a potential friend and crutch).

Africa

As the sunk sank through a lilac residue into the yawning horizon a calm cool swamped the oasis, a soft zephyr curling through the lush, rich foliage of various ferns, palms and the like. Across the peaceful surface of the shadow-struck water, the murky reflections of two tainted souls before a bleak storm-grey backdrop began to stir and ripple beneath the slight stroke of winter’s warning breath. There was no telling what the next shift of season would bring; Tallsun had been far hotter in the desert; almost unbearably so than the previous, and a great number of the natives who called the scorched sand home claimed it to be a consequence of the Endless Night. Indeed the seasons had been damaged, although baking lizards and their cold blooded serpent cousins felt little the impact of that terrible summer just past.

Windwalker was fine company- easy relief for an ailing conscious and a heart torn by bitter remorse. As they mingled by the lake and he spoke in reply to her suggestion, Africa dipped quivering lips to first brush the water; the pale grey face with pastel-gold eyes so haunting that she could not hold their grip. Thick black lashes tightened together and she was bathed in sudden darkness, in frigid black that allowed naught but the flood of his voice to penetrate her mind- it was a good thing, and she wallowed in the spirit of his ushered words; in their sense and integrity.

Without drinking she lifted her face again, and only then did her shrewd eyes resume their fix, finding the black stallion who had stepped closer; though the quietude washing across them did not fade. She had offered her space to him with the subtle gesture of her maw and she would not revoke one so placid now, for snatching that opportunity. For her, that intimacy; that understanding and closeness to her peers was as powerful as the blood coursing through her veins- as much as contact pained her these days, and amplified the shame she felt, it was so vital for her mental-survival. Still it was not a gift she offered freely.

A smile that she had hardly expected broke the mood building between them- she could not help it; could not steal it back away. He breathed so tenderly into the air billowing around them tenacity that she often felt too. ‘Someday I will master the sky’... The notion sounded so simplistic flowing from the lips of a Pegasus, and as ambitious initially as a duckling learning to paddle. The Oracle turned to him though, with a glazed look of both surprise and curiosity. "You can’t fly?” She asked quickly, the smirk lingering while she entertained the almost gruesome idea that someone was as cursed as she. Africa was not mocking at all.

Africa

Not even in the deepest furrows of sleep these days was the gift restored to the puddly-grey mare; rare were the instances when she was able to descend enough to restore strength to begin with, now that insomnia and reoccurring illusions of sorrow and trauma, had risen to haunt a desperately tired mind whenever it sought to rest. She seldom pined over her loss, the gravity which cursed her forlorn existence- though never could she forget what was robbed, the reason and the consequence. Realistically, she had all but given up the hope of ever lifting with the winds again and had settled herself into the life of primitive transport and hardship and gave it little thought. Life was not so bad, and she had come to realise that there were worst fates to suffer.

His answer both stunned and warmed the Oracle as her mellow eyes drifted pensively beyond the glaze of his brave eyes and beyond, to find the hurt lurking just below the surface. Of course she realised that words had been withheld- she was cunningly perceptive, and one so sensitive as Windwalker presented could not easily hide the true face of their soul. Likewise, her own expression bathed in the softest white-grey, was equally transparent, and she could no more hide from him the pent up emotion in her core, than ascend right then into the shade of the oncoming night.

Africa knew readily what the feeling of shattering bones felt like; she knew the frailty of those lining the avian-style appendages, and the bitter irony which often brought upon the wearer immense vulnerability- they were both a means of escape, and a target for the heartless. Both of her wings had been broken during the first frost of last winter; even before the cruel twist of fate which saw the left torn away altogether. Alan had found the dappled mare’s greatest weakness and trapped her so cunningly with it. Perhaps the Gods had pitied Africa, as she’d descended into the pit of despair and hopelessness, because she was rescued and those fractures fused together once again by the will of powerful magic; the World Edge’s Moon Doctor, Smoke.

Apparently Wind had been less fortunate, and with tender care the Oracle comforted his loss without word of her own affliction.

"I suppose so!” She shrugged with a loose grin, not nearly as weighed down by the concept as perhaps the stallion still was. No one could change the hand dealt to them...

Or could they?

She might have mentioned at that point that magic could restore to them flight in one form or another, but as Windwalker spoke on about the exclusivity of their shackled club; just the two of them, she found her tongue limp and without the desire to ruin his resolve- after all, the only way forward was to accept, like he had said before. A deep sigh erupted from her chest, pushing apart the lips which had been so diligently sealed and she said finally, "Our lives can only improve from here on in- strength in numbers; like a race of our own.”

Africa dropped her face in that moment towards the still darkening plate of water, though this time she did not hesitate, and drew long gulps of the cold, sweet water. A thought swept through her mind too as the rush of liquid seeped into the empty tremble of her stomach- perhaps she could give to him her last wing, as a gesture of hope, and faith that one day his dream might genuinely come true. It would after all bring him that one step closer.

Africa

Only when Africa left the girdle of fierce protection offered by the Throat’s well endowed army, did she ever feel like a rose among thorns; feeble and exposed to those villains who sought only to eradicate the harmony of the herd she loved. By the grace of this territory, she felt safe and secure, and that was the reason for her endeavouring to bring Windwalker so far into the blistering southern desert. She hoped earnestly, that as he settled into the new life he had so bravely accepted, the bruised stallion might too feel that encompassing wellbeing that held the grim burden of her disability at bay.

As the cool fluid seeped through her core, Africa listened still attentively while he spoke to her. There was no rush now; no wolves snapping at fleeing heels, nor urgency to fall into the arms of home, and the young dappled mare finished her fill so that she was restored at least for another half day. "My heart?” She repeated quietly and thoughtfully as the lake dribbled from her lifting lips. Her mind danced away to find the warm glow of her bonded’s presence, but he was not yet close enough that she could feel him. Already she missed him; yearned for him to again stand upon her withers with that delicate, though powerful grip- Africa knew that those feelings were not what the stallion had meant though.

The Oracle thought harder, challenged to find something which stirred her passion to ache.

"For my family.” She said at last, unable to push beyond her deep, adoring love for this herd and all that kindness which had been given to her by it. "I would do anything to bind our herd together and hold them close.” What she didn’t mention, though a glassy hint passed fleeting through the rich glow of her moon-shroud eyes, was that all she held so dearly was at the mercy of a secret withheld from them- one which spelt treason and disgrace. For all of Africa’s compassion and care, she walked the brink of alienation and had not the courage to face it.

An urge began to swell through her pulse, and she turned her face towards Windwalker with a frail smile. "Are you tired? I am; that walk is so draining at the best of times.” She paused for an answer to be given, and then continued with a voice lowered to sooth the sleep of those creatures that could not bear the night. "You don’t have to rest alone. Why don’t you come to the sacred fire of our home? It is my task to tend it and I really should return...” Still the smile remained strewn across her lips and it grew steadier as she had continued with her invitation- at least if Wind could not sleep, they would be in fine company together to see the night through. The Oracle rarely slept nowadays, and while she did prefer mostly the isolation offered by the fire’s distance to the Throat, she felt a sense of responsibility to see to this friend’s comfort- especially during his first night home.

Africa

Africa thought nothing of the delay in both reaction and response. Wind stood beside her, by the edge of the Throat; the lake which epitomised the region, perhaps lost to some moment of privacy she had not the desire to intrude upon. Instead, her pale complexion lowered once more though not to taste the fresh water. The journey had been long and at times laden with plumes of dust moved by the cut of her hooves and the corners of her gentle creamy eyes had crusted enough to form a feast of sorts, for the myriad blow-flies now in attendance. She rubbed each length of her long lean face against the ball of an outstretched knee, clearing the litter and stimulating the follicles to shudder with delight.

He nodded in time, and rolling her crest back into the evening air, the Oracle snuffled quietly. "It isn’t far." She sighed calmly, turning as the trail of his voice was swept from her reach by a sudden gush of moist wind and she might have gestured towards the distant glow of the holy flame but the bank which they stood upon formed a basin, dipped low through the centre of the land. "I will tell you a bit about Dragon’s Throat while we go if you fancy?” Her tail licked loosely about her wiry hocks as she clambered up a new part of the clay-bank, guiding him then along a more easterly route than before they had taken. The fire of the Diviner lay out some distance between the rocky cliffs of the peninsula holding the desert high above rolling, angry tides, and the lush growth of flora inhabiting the oasis- it was not an obvious point of interest where sun and light bathed the land through the day; but come night fall, its steady warm blush was a curious invitation.

She spoke as they passed beyond the rich life harboured by the lake, of the landscape around them (shroud in ever-growing darkness), of Midas and Gaucho the Sultans and of the Sun God who she loved so, and who watched always over his land which they lived upon. Curiously, she turned an eye as they strolled to glance across at Wind. "Which Lord do you follow Wind?” Africa had become so accustomed to life in Helovia that she failed to realise his previous residence may not have shared these same grand deities.

The fire now acted as a rather beautiful beacon in the not too far away distance, and Africa was more than pleased to return. Shamefully on this occasion, she had failed to bring home an offering to lay within its dancing breadth, but she pledged with due confidence that perhaps she would wander the plateau beyond and scout for treasures in as the early hours of the next dawn began to descend. They covered the last of the ground quickly, and the Oracle greeted with an affectionate murmur her Bonded who was perched and waiting for them in the boughs of the old skeleton tree nearby. Silas had wedged the cactus in a lower fork for safe keeping, and was nestled comfortably into his plump coat of star-strewn feathers- not sleeping, for he was a creature of the night, like she also had become.

Africa

Comforted at least by the return of her companion; the treasure she had uprooted hooked securely beyond the reach of any night-time scavenger, the Oracle stilled herself beside the fire and collected between her blunt, off white teeth the petrified branch she had crafted into fire-prod. Carefully she began to turn scalding sand beneath the licking flames as though they were embers whose underside was burnt through before the top. It was the ritual she had adopted since rising to the position of messenger between the Sun god and those dwelling in his realm; and she fussed with meticulous care as though the fire embodied his very spirit. The flame did not need fuel to continue; it was eternal and ferocious, though feasted readily upon whatever offering she placed within its ravenous core.

"By the fire I bed, yes." She smiled, half-glancing back to where her stallion friend stood perhaps captivated by all that she had presented. "You are welcome here any time Wind. This fire is a place for all of our people to visit; likewise am I." The fire was silent this night, its crackling voice subdued by the pit of an empty stomach. She thought briefly, brashly, about placing upon it the cactus, but so much trouble had been taken to bring it home to the oasis she thought the idea to be a foolish one.

With little else to do but rest her wearied body, Africa laid down the stick and turned to face the ebony Pegasus. "We should rest while the dark hours gift us with peace and quiet." A fond murmur seeped through her fluttering nostrils but she remained in place, upon her long, slender legs. Silas croaked quietly from his roost, a gesture of appreciation maybe for that show of respect before granted to him- but Windwalker could not have known; their two species were as stark as the pebble and the water, and Africa was their only connection. "If you wake come morning, and I am not here- don’t fret. I will set off to comb the beach at first light for driftwood and weed." Her face softened as gentle eyes watched him, and she nodded, retiring into a world of haunting memories and tortured slumber.


[ooc: After your reply I will close this thread :) I feel like his arrival has been covered. I am more than happy to have Wind along in any open thread I post, or if you want to start something with Africa (or Hector!) just tag either in a new thread. Tagging is @ [ Username ] without the three spaces. So glad you joined Helovia, and the Throat too!!]

Africa