Flight...

It was considered her birthright, bequeathed by those brilliant winged ancestors seeping through her lineage; supposedly as natural and simultaneous as the task of breathing. But it was no longer that simple, and only in recent days had she grown accustomed to the sheer, excruciating pain of her bones shrinking, grinding, and her large Spanish frame compacting into parrot form. The ability had only just roused as bubbling magic, coursing with the passage of her blood, and it was actually Silas who had felt the energy; the writhing power as it stirred to life within his beloved’s downtrodden core.

When first she had tested herself, Africa had been fearful, confused, and the ache was unbelievably overwhelming- a sensation she had not at all expected. Shape-shifting was no medial task after all; there were no blinding flashes, nor elegant transformations like those fabled by the tongue of her dream-weaver mother. She had tumbled from the canopy-line of the forest then, limbs spilling back into reality and jarring beneath the weight of her plummeting self. Such was a strain like no other on her body, though now, that physical stress was less pronounced, and the more she practiced the less unpredictable it all seemed to be.

They set off early. Before even the first seeping hue of dawn had slithered across the easternmost horizon; the darkness was their security, the Zephyr’s predator eyes were fiercest by the grace of moonlight, and even though vast blankets of cloud pregnant with Frostfall’s snow shielded any true glow, he could guard their travel shrewdly without the glare of day. By the mouth of The Sanctuary he covered her transformation, wary always of the cunning wraith’s hunt, and when the mare’s pain had dulled enough they moved north (never far beyond the ground should she weaken and the magic embracing her fail again).

Still well clear of the reach of any earth-shackled undead (some could fly, but most were bound by their gravity laden ex-forms), the pair flapped in unison as the first rim of Threshold pines loomed in the distance- they shared the wave of relief; that comfort in knowing that the old entrance to Helovia remained untainted by the darkness; the plague. Driving heartily through the brisk, wintry wind they broke through the first of the trees bending and swaying restlessly against the wild elements.

"Silas, I’m tired..." Africa called through the tight bind of their minds, and the Zephyr slowed instantly to follow the descent of the mare as she began loose spirals towards the forest floor. ‘Another... close to here,’ he answered suddenly, lifting his wings to prop above her. Africa could not avoid the drag of weight as it was pulled towards the earth; having not mastered the finesse of fine landing, she plunged when she could hold the magic taut no longer and her mass crumbled into the sparse wiry mat of suffering grass and wet, revolting snow. The burn of her reconfiguring bones did not ease right away, and she lay for a moment with clenched eyes; legs sprawled to one side, and the lonely left wing cast across the collapsed curve of her again large barrel.

"No harm done," she reassured her companion with a light, somewhat laboured smile- he was torn, fluttering worriedly above her, while scouting the vicinity surrounding for the flicker of movement he had seen barely minutes before. The Zephyr sighed pensively, though he noted her mind beginning to clear of the aggrieved fog which seemed always to mushroom through these flights. Then he saw her, and the flash of interest forced Africa to stand, turn, and seek out that which had snagged him.

A unicorn was venturing by- maybe drawn by the commotion of their less than elegant arrival, although as four eyes examined the stranger, she seemed to be none the wiser of their close proximity. Softly rattling nostrils broke the building quiet (few birds were compelled to brave the bleak weather even though the sun was slicing viciously by then, through the shroud of white above), and Africa called out to the nomad meekly; they had not come to avoid wanderers like this- but to bring them home to relative safety.

Africa