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