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The assertive, motivated sound of Ampere’s call drew forth a small comforted smile across dry, wrinkled lips. She had been bewildered by their union in the beginning, ultimately disheartened by the choice made by their otherworldly overseer; but the longer she spent mulling in the company of the shorter Pegasus, the more aware she became of his reasoning. Though starkly different; almost as much so as the night and the day, the two mares brought into the unlikely relationship flare and passion- empathy and insight, each to lessen the gravity of their given task. When the darker horse turned to smile, Africa returned it unreservedly.

A dappled creature; wrought with athleticism and courage was the first to heed their call. She was unfamiliar and limped, perhaps an after-effect of the sickness just shed. Africa’s heart squirmed like a worm above ground- cast in burning sunlight, discomforted and discouraged by the manner of her gaze as it swept by to settle upon Ampere who was certainly the more striking of the two. Outwardly she held firm, the frail cracked shell of confidence (the impulse to turn and pull from her lone wing, a feather) glued tightly together by the faith and determination of Ampere, and the judgement of their God. She offered a warm greeting despite the other’s curt regard and fleeting gaze, and a welcoming nod. “We are glad to have you, Hellä. Welcome to Dragon’s Throat.”

Spurred to descend from the icy atmosphere by the trip of his bonded’s nervous mind, Silas eyed the newcomer warily.

The next to arrive was a face Africa knew only because of meetings they had both attended in the past. His name escaped her though; no matter the depths she trawled to try to locate it. It was not to matter however, as the painted stallion introduced himself without delay as the child of Midas. The pallid expression lifted instantly, a gentle smile shining through the pastel yellow glow of her gaze as it came to rest before his own. "Cera, may our Lord of fire and light favour your unwavering loyalty." After passing quietly across the avian figure at his shoulder, soft eyes did not sway from Cera’s emerald watch despite the nag of her conscience; her wish to know if Midas had been seen, if he was safe. It seemed so strange that he was not already among them now, and Africa’s heart was heavy beneath the weight of that naivety- to her, he (with gilt wings and sand-born chains) was the quintessence of Dragon’s Throat.

It would be a question for later she decided, peeling her focus away at last to find the approach of another stallion.

She knew him to be a soldier, though little interest had she felt before now in the army and the names binding it. His figure was quite larger than any she had before dealt with, and her pale eyes traced at length the combination of two horns upon his white streaked face and two enormous wings folded snug against his flanks. As he spoke, his tone brave and manner quite a bit more official than she was used to, Africa offered lightly a smile. "Welcome home Hector." All the time she had hoped old faces would return like this, to spill amongst the new blood with the fierce passion for Dragon’s Throat which had always existed; but suddenly she felt shy before those who would have seen the eras of Kri; of Midas and Gaucho. The one-winged grey could not promise them that success, but she and Ampere would strive, she knew, to build the desert into something equally as fine; power of which would the God of the Sun would be proud.

She could not quell the relief which spilled through her as more familiar faces arrived.

The nervous, unavoidable lines marring her soft, pale complexion eased and she looked fondly over Sohalia who came forward to meet them next- though little more than friendly acquaintances had they ever had the chance to be. She noted quickly the young zephyr who accompanied her, recognizing his type instantly with a bright smile, all the while overlooking the shifting mood of the dove-hued mare’s expression. The avian’s feathers seemed not to shed the light of the sun or stars like Fina and Silas, instead (uncannily like those which had writhed across the dark coat of Ampere in the Threshold), slivers and sparks of electricity seemed to fizz across his wing-feathers. Still, there was something reassuring about the other’s mare’s presence, and she lifted her shoulders more confidently while Sohalia addressed her. She knew nothing of the tensions stretched between the white mare and the blue-black who stood also across the rocky mound- naturally, and accepted that spoken with a warm smile and grateful nod. “Thank you Sohalia, it is great to see you again. Welcome, to your young friend.” The two other mares shared a greeting then, and the one-winged was pleased that they too had already crossed paths- she presumed of course, that they were on friendly terms.

Another spoke then, an unfamiliar voice and it struck no flash of delight through the swiftly rising gaze of Ampere. In fact, it became quickly apparent that the stranger had already committed a felony against the Throat. Concern swelled quickly as the other Sultana’s voice lifted through a hum of murmuring, and Africa’s own lips curled downward with disapproval while eyes sought the face of the one being interrogated. Already Silas had fallen to just beyond the clothed spine of his beloved, and from her mind was drawn apprehension- a feeling which pleased his stout soul little. Open claws reached for the bristled trail of her mane; the point of her withers, and he fluttered amid softly clouding star shine there upon her briefly to secure his balance over the silk before also pausing to eye the convicted distrustfully. Africa’s long charcoal-tinged ears pitched forward as the unpleasant stroke of Ampere’s raised voice demanded an answer; an explanation. While the other’s attention remained attached exclusively to Morana (the name had been pulled before the interruption), the grey turned to greet those still arriving- conflict of any sort was not her forte, and a soft breath erupted as she fell wholeheartedly into the more peaceful undertaking.

Pastel gaze finds the face of Azulee as she speaks- another born here, another with unwavering loyalty to Fire and Light. She smiled carefully, noting the same solemnity which seemed amassed around Cera also. Curiously, Africa remembered her not. “Welcome home,” she answered quietly, kindly… “... and thank you.”

Africa knew the respect of these folk would not be given rashly; she appreciated their consideration though

A face more familiar than the rest caught her attention, mulling in silence (she laughed inwardly), lost as it were amongst the louder lives surrounding. Voodoo was smiling towards her, and beneath the mask of ashen white her cheeks flushed hot and crimson. His was a comfort she had least expected to find returning- especially when the likes of Midas had not. Dipping her maw subtly she regarded her old friend; her childhood crush. Soon enough they would meet in private, though she wondered too if still his skull echoed the insanity he had tried so hard to repel that time upon the beach, just south of the gathering. She could not help the fixation of her eyes, but drew them quickly, coyly, at the site of the reddish stallion who had been there for Ampere’s forthright attack.

Dalibor

The name was as easy to retrieve as the stark memory of that day. Africa felt silly for a moment, swaying atop the podium she had found, not altogether proud of her own contribution that day, many seasons ago. His words were encouraging though, when they erupted quite curtly from his jaws, though before finding the chance to respond, Ampere was again calling through their midst. The grey held her tongue and listened intently, agreeing unreservedly to all which the darker mare beside her declared. They were bound by this task to rebuild the glory of Dragon’s Throat, and Africa’s eyes fell respectfully to rest against her colleague- though the passion stirred through her own heart by the other’s words was more demure, unobtrusive.

---

Quickly, effortlessly, the one-winged mare’s much gentler voice picked up as Ampere’s began to subside. “I too am available to spar.” It was a very necessary task she realised now, and her creamy gaze flashed with resolution as it swept across the intimate group. “There will be a tournament to determine our Gladiator, they who will head the Throat’s army. Any who wish this charge please step forward now and make your intentions known.” She paused for a good while; enough to let all of those keen to battle to step up. The tournament would start as soon as all names were down. “Soldiers, you have been assigned to either the rank of Spear or the rank of Shield.” She hoped Ampere would in turn elaborate to each filling those roles what responsibilities would be held; she was not extremely confident in that area, though would, given time, learn all that she could.

Africa searched then, for the familiar face of the dove-white mare- the herd’s previous crafter, a bright smile lifting her pallid complexion. “Please step forward, Sohalia. Ampere and I, with the blessing of our Sun Father, would like to offer to you, the rank of Dragon’s Throat Forger. Will you accept?” Sohalia had invested such an enormous amount of her time and toil into the wall, foraging for ore, and for time longer even than the dappled mare herself, the herd, and it filled Africa with great pleasure to be able to hand back that which had thriven in her charge. It was such a shame that the fruits of her labour, lay now crumbled below lapping waves.

For moments more she stayed silent, granting an opportunity for any to speak if they wished.

“There are many fresh faces among you, new bodies who we welcome warmly to Dragon’s Throat. It is for this reason we have not placed the roles of Diviner, Sun Physician, Sleuth... (she looked fleetingly towards Ampere) …and Tamer. It is in the herds best interests, we feel, to appoint only those most suited to these positions. Without knowing you all properly though, we cannot be sure to make the right decision.” A soft smile graced her lips as she looked out across the gathered herd. “We would encourage those curious about the roles to speak with us, and proffer their interest officially when the time comes.”

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OOC:

Congratulations Sohalia on your appointment as the Dragon’s Throat Forger!

There will be a tournament to decide the role of Gladiator starting shortly, and we will be using the application process to appoint the roles of Diviner, Sun Physician and Sleuth.

The Chancellor will be appointed at a later time.