Many moons had sailed by since the one-winged mare and her night-loving companion wandered with true conviction through the spindly arms of the Threshold’s ancient forest. A task had been set, far more significant than she thought herself worthy to accomplish- to founder new structure, new life, and help it prosper beneath the proud gaze of her Lord, the God of the Sun. Beside her was set Ampere, the feisty blue Pegasus mare, and all differences had been forced aside for the sake of their common goal. Africa neither sought gratification, nor notches in her belt of esteem (not that such existed anyway); she wished simply to appease the patron of Dragon’s Throat, and bring before him success.

Pastel yellow eyes roved through the haggard old trees, searching constantly for any trace of movement, a sign of life. Silas soared high beyond the reach of her gaze, drawing in a world that only those blessed with the advantage of flight would ever realise. It was he, the star-speckled Roc Zephyr who saw him first- a stallion as black as the feather’s glossing his own back; galloping across a sea of snowy-white. Glancing to the rough wilderness spread behind the stranger’s reckless path, the avian could find no sign of any danger; no wolf to spook the born-prey heart of an equine, nor fire to singe the feathers of his beloved’s kin. Only the bleak shadow of a forest trapped through winter’s bleak grip loomed there.

The bird began to spiral down towards the land in long, broad circles, sending forth a silent message to the mare he loved so dearly, who had by then paused to note the drum of wild hooves. ‘Brethren...’ their bond stammered, the dappled creature’s mind filling with the stark illusion, written by the eyes of the bird. ‘Take care.’ Long, black tipped ears danced forward when suddenly the thrash of the unknown’s stride ceased altogether. With eyes narrowing behind rims of mascara-black lashes, she strained her focus to find the flimsy shape of another ahead, his form a contrast before the cold world lying as his backdrop.

Silas swooped into a tree between them, watching with a wary gaze as his beloved, began to ease forward along the path that would unite her with the Pegasus stallion.

Africa stepped with due diligence, a creature wearing the scars both physically and emotionally of a foolish history. He appeared like any other- as generally they did, and she paused not far with raised fluttering nostrils to test the air between them. Before sealing the distance remaining there between she called to him; a sound both as delicate as the wind stirred by butterfly’s wings and careful as a mother-doe before her newborn’s first step.

Lilac eyes roved meticulously over the sinewy black body of the male- the stranger who appeared at first glance to wear not the lines and furrows of an aggressor. Silas clung with a ravenous grip to the thick knotted bough of the leafless oak, balancing there despite the wicked wintry gust spilling through the forest constantly, monitoring the nature of the stallion’s movements for even the slightest trace of ill-intent.
His feathers were sleek, pressed clean against the lithe figure of his body; as black as a moonless night, though if he turned or swayed upon short scaly legs beneath, a slight purple sheen would glimmer in light. Down the length of his glossy back to trail the length of his elaborately feathered tail, and even a little further still; across the top of each glorious wing, to spill like a waterfall’s mist behind, he was speckled by true star-shine. He was a creature born of myth and beauty. His gaze was as sharp as an eagle’s, his mind bright and brave, and the Zephyr had pledged to guard over Africa no matter the foe to face.

The one-winged mare waited enduringly for the stranger’s reaction with the lush black and red tendrils of her tail spilling idly into the wind as it swept her by. Ears leaned forward, pricked with interest enough so that pretty black tips brushed eagerly together- and so too did her gaze remain ahead and fixed tightly upon him. The young masculine voice danced towards her, guided playfully by Frostfall’s relentless breath and Africa received it readily with a softly polished smile marking her relief. His reply had been swift and uncomplicated; no delay to indicate a mind calculating options behind the silent caress of sinister eyes. In fact, she thought easily, he seemed quite enthused by her appearance. Certainly he did not present in the same guarded, critically pained fashion that so many before him had.

Intrigued, she pulled forward into a brisk walk just as he did, and the remaining space (though slim it was) vanished. He greeted her without respect; typically as a newcomer to these parts might, and she smiled lightly for the sake of their coming together. Firstly the dappled mare nodded in return, pulling the lonely wing to her right, snug against the warmth of her slender barrel. "Hey." Manners had been wrought through her personality from a tender age, but she was no more formal in her conduct than she was able to fly in the form of a Pegasus. Quietly she took the liberty of studying his young limber physique from the angle she stood. There was nothing malicious lurking behind the pastel gold pools of her eyes to rouse in him suspicion; Africa was a gentle creature who sought to avoid conflict and confrontation, and that quietness emanated blatantly through the grace and care of her natural, casual manner.

"I’m Africa, from Dragon’s Throat in the south." She paused and turned her calm face towards the tree which held still her valiant companion, before adding "…and this is Silas." Her pallid features fell again towards the unfamiliar Pegasus, tilting slightly, curiously; the smile lingering across her thin smoky-grey lips as she waited in turn for the revelation of his own identity.

100%
The Zephyr didn’t flinch. Even when the familiar sound of his name in their tongue slipped from his beloved’s kindly lips, his fierce gaze remained set upon the sable Pegasus stallion.

His temperament was a stark contrast to the mellow nature of the mare. He loved the unpretentious throb of her shy heart; the informal elegance trimming each stride and the compassion which seemed to spill from her always, like sweet rain after the longest drought. Silas knew that it was those attributes which drew others nearer; those with like minds, and those with callous intent. That steadfast vulnerability had been preyed upon many times, and from the first night he had spent tending her bruised mind and broken body in the Basin, he had promised to defend her from those eyes far more cunning than she had the ability to be.

Naturally, he cared not in the slightest for those of her kind- the horned, the plain, nor those winged, like partly she was still; they were a cruel and arrogant population that deserved little respect. His bond lay exclusively with the one-winged mare and her welfare.

Africa’s bright eyes traced the curl of the other’s dark lips when he spoke; a needless comment, which she found not to be either irritating or entertaining. Nevertheless a smile crept into her pretty pale complexion and she nodded lightly. He has spunk she thought musingly, that frivolous overconfidence of youth that she had shed herself, barely two Tallsun’s ago. Her companion remained quiet, unmoved by the sway of her impressionable mind, though fluffed the cloak of glossy feathers he wore and hunched forward cagily when the young stallion began to speak again; to introduce himself.

Few seconds were left to stray before he spoke again, if not a little bluntly it seemed, asking where her home lay- or rather, that realm recently re-crafted by the God of the Sun himself, to bed his followers, and those he felt would compliment his cause. Africa shifted quietly in place, neat hooves slicing through the slick of wet, sullied snow as she freed up the left hind to rest at an angle. Then he added rather playfully to the query, what exactly was it?

His was a question asked by many before, and she regarded his tone in equal jest, with a harmless snap of pearly white teeth. This version of the well rehearsed answer was fresh though since the darkness had been dissolved, and really a work still in progress. "An oasis rich with culture lies faraway from here. It’s surrounded by harsh desert beyond a bridge of tumbled sandstone, and all are girt by the furious southern ocean. It was forged by the God of Sun and Light (who we revere passionately), at the beginning of time; though the hand of generations of mortals and their foes have slowly eroded its shores. We’ve only recently returned after Helovia, these lands, fell ill." She spoke effortlessly, coolly and softly; a creature whose mind had been freed of corrupting pain only recently- and she grinned for him, watching always with clever, mindful eyes.

Then she asked him curiously, long ears swaying forward to betray that intrigue, "Aeross, where do you come from? What are you hoping to find?"


[ooc: No problem at all, I actually didn’t even notice <3]