They tell me I'm too young to understand
They say I'm caught up in a dream
As the meeting drew to an end, the joy of witnessing the rise of her almighty Lord was quashed by the simmering fear and suspicion of the darkness exposed. Still, she praised him and thanked him solemnly; a silent prayer, for he had warned them all and given the herd chance to evade the wrath to come. The Oracle turned, eyes roving through the gathered group- a fine array of the horned, winged and simple alike, all united as one. It was a far cry from the old days, when Pegasus blood overwhelmed the rest, but diversity gave them new strength, while the world around began to crumble. She found with a profound sigh, Windwalker arriving (late, though she cared not for that aspect now) behind those few lined up by the back, and shuffled quickly towards him.

“Thank you Silas." She called through their bond as the Zephyr glided in behind the jet stallion.

At the same time, her worried gaze sought too the leather-winged stallion who the avian had also sought, Silk; whom she had not seen for better or worse, since that emotional night by the light of the full moon. It had been a fretful conversation, and though gentleness and compassion had soothed his method, Africa had been troubled by the feelings roused through her own soul- the boiling arousal, lust which had begun so sickeningly to course through her inexperienced veins. She could not see his raven form; the snow-kissed flaunt of his luscious mane as the wind wheeled between them all, and sighed gravely- devastated almost that he might be lost to this curse.

“Wind…" She called through the drone of concern, unable to rid her own voice of the distress she felt rise within. “Thank goodness you’re safe." Africa could not hold herself back; falling against the curve of his hot gullet and burying herself beneath the thick drape of his glossy black mane. The same lustful desire; the spark which had been ignited by the allure of Silk was not there- it did not cause her heart to flutter and her stomach to curdle. But she loved him then, without denial, as perhaps the closest friend she knew. Come what may down the line, the Oracle needed Wind now for companionship when Helovia would fall into the grip of decay. “I was so worried." She breathed, pressing the ridge of her soft-white face against him.

The group began to disperse then. The flighted distanced themselves to cater for the spread of glorious wings and began their journey due north, afloat; and those who would travel with the guard of Midas assembled there where the two Sultans had stood together moments before- then they too set off. Africa made certain to pass her gratitude to the black and white king; to her friend and mentor, for walking them where danger seemed so much greater.

They passed from desert to heart in relative silence; Africa too felt the weight of confusion and uncertainty pressed hard upon her back, and never spoke as she walked close behind Midas, with Windwalker (hopefully) snug at her side. Silas soared above scouting for the shacked group as best he could offer- aware, naturally that Fina might be watching. When finally they pulled alongside the deep fissure in the hard, clay earth, the Oracle notice the dreamcatcher normally tethered to Gaucho’s antler headdress resting upon a flat stone pillar, and felt some comfort wash through her being, that some of their family was safe.

They paused, and Midas worked to arrange the relic upon the stone by the entrance- a marking; a signal, and the rock transformed into shimmery, fire-kissed gold beneath. Patiently the Oracle waited, issuing soft smiles amongst those peers around her, comforting them now as confidence began to crawl through her tired body. As they descended below the crust of the earth Silas swooped to perch atop her withers.

[Permission from @[Windwalker] to say Silas guided him to the meeting.]