In recent nights; though in actual fact all time spent crowded en masse beneath the weight of the earth’s crust felt like one starless, moonless version of that, a wave of restlessness had swept through the cave-dwelling population. Whispers of unrest and malice had begun to swell through the feeble and brave-hearted alike, and groups had seemed visibly to separate from the main body huddled and wary. Africa had noticed the change too. She was a shrewd and perceptive character and had quite deliberately not allowed her guard to lower since the original descent. Unicorns straddled the walls; their unrivalled elitism unsettled her gravely, and she found more and more that she could not rest while their hostile gaze was present.

She slipped cautiously through the stone corridor that bound the Glowing Room (labelled by those who fed upon its strange beauty), to the first room in The Sanctuary; her star-spangled bonded rocking with parted wings atop the clenched switch of her pointed withers. They had been discussing the best they could give the still juvenile nature of their link, the prospect of civil unrest; of a mutiny or attack by those horned barbarians who she loathed so intensely. Silas had scoffed heartily, an attempt to quell her nervousness, but he too had spent time in the midst of the Basin many seasons ago. He knew well their lust for domination, and that they knew little mercy for those blocking the way. Although no other could penetrate the sensitive conversation, Africa had balked when one of those (possibly, it was hard to tell who had fallen out of the north while all were mixed together), had waltzed by. She had whirled from the room like a child from its punisher after the discovery of sin.

Her footfalls were careful and quiet, well-practiced by then to strike gently the damp surface of the rock which paved between chambers; and she entered the Glowing Room rapidly, passing one suspicious glance by her shoulder. Perhaps paranoia had stirred awake from its dormancy- Africa wasn’t sure, and certainly she did not feel so burdened like she had for so long. The weight of her treason had been shared with Midas; the guilt of untruth righted, and she genuinely felt far freer than she had for years- since even the first hours in Helovia. Her guarded creamy gaze swept between the underworld forest, admiring and examining all at once, the marvellous creation of their Gods- and those who lurked sinisterly between. For some time she stood by the door, indecisive and distrustful, but with a reassuring cluck from her Roc guardian, she moved forward- primarily towards one winged soul, because she felt comforted by his presence; his kinship.

As she approached, her eyes narrowed upon him, curious because there was something remotely familiar about his appearance.

Minding the feline creature that seemed to graze by his legs, the one-winged mare paused courteously to first introduce herself. "Hey there," A weak smile danced across dark, wrinkled lips before falling away as her voice reached towards him once more, "…do you mind if Silas and I join you both? I find the presence of the ‘horned’ unnerving when I’m alone." She was a gentle mind, and the expression wrapping through her pallid grey features was naturally transparent. Softly nostrils fluttered as they grasped their first taste of him through the swirling veil of humidity, and eagerly she stepped closer to the pair.