Through the course of their stay beneath the crust of the world, many had come to pay homage, to pray or simply to view the marvellous inscriptions which brought to life a wall, otherwise bleak and cold to gaze upon. It had become quite a spiritual posse for the one-winged grey mare also, though the juvenile nature of her relationship with the God of the Sun had been left rather to wane and fizzle. Even after the first week after the herd’s descent it became hopelessly apparent that the structure of her family had been shattered; that all those entitlements and status’s once achieved and represented, had been reduced to mists of memory. It saddened her deeply to think of the loss of that link she had grown so deeply to trust and worship; although perhaps the regal Lord of the desert had thought little of her motility; the bleak stone pelt she wore and fractured flight, Africa had felt for the first time an air of responsibility- meaning behind the otherwise maddening routine of basic herd life.

It had all been lost now though; far quicker than it had been found...

Long black lashes peeled slowly apart to reveal the soft golden gaze of the once Oracle. She had positioned herself close to the back of the small room; beyond the tender gurgle of cleansing fountain water, and apart from the sombre glow of lamplight shed from above. Though not cloaked by shadows as thick and comfortable as those further below, her murky body was not strikingly obvious- easily the Wall of History would have drawn visiting eyes quickly from the dull corners of the shallow room. She could see that another had come to view the etchings and a modest smile curled its path around storm-grey wrinkled lips. She harboured not the same need for seclusion that she had merely weeks ago. Windwalker had met with her only very recently, and though still the manner of that conversation struck the cold blade of confusion through her heart, it had lessened the weight of her overly sensitive mood. This time, Africa did not mind so much the company of a stranger.

"Incredible, don’t you think?" The voice which slithered barely greater than a sigh, was soft, tender; a true, transparent reflection of the soul which had struggled so terribly to sew back together it’s wounds. She was a matured creature; wiser, and more reserved for all the lessons dealt unto her, but still humbleness and tender compassion radiated through her ashy complexion. "A close friend told me that the wall represents the past; that everything portrayed is the evolution of the world." Africa didn’t mind whether the ice-berg Pegasus knew already, all which they now studied together was a phenomenon to behold and admire. "Makes you wonder how long we have been living above with closed eyes, doesn’t it?" A thoughtful grin and placid tilt of her long slim face, and the dappled creature shuffled nearer.