Sweat had lathered into thick foam wherever the friction of rubbing skin existed; the bright dapples tightly canvased around a lithe, elegant frame were burdened by grim dark puddles of sweat, regardless of Helovia’s wicked winter climate. The journey had been long and exhausting; the terrain separating the old Threshold forest from the barren clay Heart-land was rugged and wild without the traipsing of regular travellers wearing down the weeds. The long breadth of meadow was strewn with withered sharp shells of hoary thistles that held not the stamina to live through the bleak season; the grasses grew long and wild, and flurries of frail leaves torn from their mother’s hug, harassed any so bold as to stride through the land. Still more callous, the endemic fog of sickness clung thickly across the earth; stroking the living flesh with ravenous delight as they passed through, calling from their hunt wraiths to claim those souls foolish enough to dither.

Africa and Windwalker had made it safely though, and the tired mare hurled herself through the first rim of creaking, gnarled and naked pines with a great sigh of relief.

There had been no chance to pass the time with idle chatter and awkward laughter; for the better no doubt, and as trembling limbs pulled her limber load to a halt beneath the safety of that pungent plantation, she had not the breath to even try. Bulging white knees splayed forward, the long arc of a flaming crest wilted forward above them, and when only her breath began finally to slow the one-winged mare glanced towards her company. "We made it." She cried breathlessly, throat rasping and dry as lungs choked for that air expelled to speak.

Where they had paused, no snow was falling to veil their path; the moon had risen, and it shed a pale glow across the resilient Threshold. Despite the haste of their travelling, it seemed that night had swept quickly ahead to smother the land. It mattered little, and Silas wheeled above his beloved with sharp nocturnal eyes to survey the route ahead. Still he did not approve of their reconciliation- he had not the patience to endure the drama which had segregated them to begin with; nor did he have the capacity to forgive and forget the behaviour Windwalker had shown towards the mild-mannered mare. All the while he roved ahead; one careful eye was tuned to monitor the raven aggressor.

When she had recovered some and checked that her friend too was improved after the ludicrous (but quite necessary) sprint, Africa led off through the trees- but paused perhaps only minutes later when the forest began to wither away; only charred waste and burnt relic trees remained and Africa’s breath choked with surprise. "Wind, what’s happened here?" Concern broke the quiet hum of her voice, and upset eyes were turned towards the black stallion. The forest had been relatively, healthy when last she had visited, only weeks before… she could not imagine what had caused such damage.

‘…sickness…’ Silas’s thoughts interrupted, and Africa glanced upwards to find his starry silhouette dancing across the pale face of the distant moon.

[ @[Windwalker] want’s to reply too ^_^]