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The zephyr hunched wilfully above the flesh of his beloved, glaring still as the small chirp of the wakiya sliced through the tension forged through the air between them. Violet eyes narrowed as the slippery rays of daylight gathered within them, fierce and loyal in the face of all the turmoil; the changes which had befallen them. Times had been unsettling, and the glossy black creature had not been spared. Still, the mood of the group lacked the volatility which might have fed his defensiveness into anything grander than the sullen exhibition displayed- there was just no trace, and settled marginally by the persuasive urge of his beloved; Silas returned a guarded murmur of his own to the pale mare’s bonded, the sound of her voice (the word’s without sense to him), a comfortable blanket across his resentment.

Tingling beneath the weight of their eyes; of controversy and blame, the lonely wing gripped against the mottled well-dappled barrel of the mare fidgeted. The scar staining the other shoulder with shining, raw pink had healed long ago, but brought to task by inquiring minds (no matter how friendly), the wound seemed to burn and sting with renewed ferocity. Despite this, and bravely finding both the unmatched eyes of Sohalia and the twilight gaze of Andromeda, Africa shrugged, her soft white expression lifting as the warm stroke of sunlight soothed away her disquiet. In the fleeting moments of silence between, the one-winged mare thought of Midas and their conversation; of all which had been aired between them, and the contentment that had been let stray through her previously damaged soul. She harboured not the same guilt that she had since the undoing of her flight, and certainly she now understood that her mistakes that season should not be the unravelling of her gentle, thoughtful spirit. As though pulled to life on cue by the memory of her lost sand-wielding friend, the golden feathers of her own; tied into her mane by the art of his powers, began to twirl and flutter silently in a subtle breeze.

"Silly mistakes."She started openly, smiling- for the lightness which gathered in place where trouble and torture once compiled. She felt no burden swell through her mind and continued. "I gambolled ignorantly two winters passed, and my naivety landed me in the grip of the horrid beasts of the north." Africa was relieved to find that still she remained without trembling apprehension; that the story came as quickly and reasonably as the melting snows to the sea. Because of this, she even offered a spirited laugh, bright and without suffering, the delicate sound of which peeled into the clear sky above.