Time seemed to stand still there, trapped between the frigid granite walls of the cave and held tight by paralysing uncertainty as though shackles gripped each limb square to the moist floor below. Suddenly Africa felt like a child again. Giddying bewilderment sliced her rationality in two; unruly confusion twisted the warping truth of her feelings as the unyielding lance of his words sank ever deeper through her raw, flinching conscience. Light sweat began to bead behind the waver of downy, grey ears and the warmth of the dancing firelight shimmered when the shadows were cast from its reach. Her tail flicked wearily as she stood with her friend (if flailing intimacy could possibly still bind them so), and the thick tangled tendrils of ebony and red brushed limply clear of her contracting, crooked hocks. Nothing about her body-language offered sureness and resolve, and shivering dapples portrayed plainly the insecurity of an unravelling mind.

The sentence he worded firstly was true- she realised easily that the mind was easily swayed off course; that the writhe of steaming emotion was much like the fury of an over-boiled volcano. The lusting hunger she had felt for Silk, though its residue still slicked his memory, had frothed and bubbled over shortly; only to peter out as distance was left to grow in its forlorn wake. The sound of his final pleading declaration resounding hopelessly through the downtrodden crowd; the unfamiliar gurgling choke of illness in his rasping throat... the one-winged creature tore her anguished eyes from Wind and buried them into the miserable blackness of the cave’s foot. "I’m not afraid...” She answered breathlessly, the pitch of her voice breaking as she tried in vain to emphasise his misinterpretation.

An overwhelming feeling of claustrophobia swept through her; exasperation, embarrassment, disorientation; everything she felt then simmered to the surface of her being, coating her tongue in dry acrimony as it slapped silently against the hidden wall of clenched marble-white teeth. Stiffened ears were pushed backwards to bed unhappily across the motionless sea of her greasy mottled mane and the red, square tail feather which rested lifelessly between. “How could I know if it’s time? How do you even know? ...” Lead eyelids lifted suddenly to join the release of flustered thoughts, pale yellow eyes searching his dark expression for some explanation, any clue as to what his love felt like.

Maybe he was right...

She sighed jadedly, what if she was just ignorant; a wilful girl ignoring the begging of her lonely spirit. Loneliness... Africa thought of Midas suddenly, of his emptiness; of the degenerating gold-fringed shell of that gallant family man. He had been devoured by the cruel irony of loneliness, so why could all the loathing and resentment she felt, not be founded (well, magnified in fact) by that too? Although the rate of her pulse had increased rather significantly to force quicker the billow of her rib-sheathed lungs, the young mare held firm a new, rather cool outlook. Her gaze had narrowed cynically when it fell upon the black stallion in unison with her response, but it softened ruefully with the turn of rampaging thoughts.

Windwalker mentioned Silas then and the bird bristled where he roosted at the familiar sound of his name in Helovian tongue. Africa stiffened also- her ears no way inclined to lift away from her hair. She fidgeted uncomfortably, beige hooves scuffing beneath the drowsy grind of her knees. Of course she loved Silas- but that was not a sentiment that swelled outside their bond. It was more than love; more than the playful crush felt so long ago for Voodoo; fiercer than the infatuation that had found her swooning over their- now, magnificent Sultan, in the years buried away. It was deeper still than her covetous ache for Silk, who, like the slaughter of her flight, had become only another torture when she slept. Silas did not hold passion and emotion like a noose around her throat. He was the air feeding her blood; the throb of her heart. Her beloved companion was the only reason she lived today. He was her life, not her love.

Africa