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It was an entirely new feeling; slipping between the still naked, wind-gnarled bodies of ancient timber with less reason to fear, no reason to slip beneath the dim grip of chilling shadows. Though still wraiths traipsed the land un-healed and ferocious, their numbers had declined so critically that apprehension no longer iced the bitter breeze as it hugged tightly against the flinch of dappled hide; there was not the same need for travel-parties and the patrol of the W.A.R initiative. The world was indeed a changed place- terrible and unpredictable, but Africa felt confident sliding with her new company from the safety of the unmarred Threshold, into the stark openness of the meadow. Always though her pale scanning gaze held some mild mistrust for the world surrounding (how could it not after the constant stream of conflict through her Helovian experience), it sparkled with optimistic enthusiasm and soaked up at large, the beauty of that which had been smothered for so long in sick darkness.

She was fit and well adapted to the journey confronting them now. Africa had made it countless times on foot alone, and held no reservations delving head-long into the sea of swishing golden grass; the southern horizon and column of thick, coal-brown smoke upon it, a welcome reminder that home was never beyond reach. Perhaps it would take them a solid slice of the day to cover the ground necessary, but it seemed less daunting this time; not so lonely, as a sweeping smile was extended towards Andreas mid-stride. The sun shed endless warmth and encouragement upon her- a comforting cue maybe form the always watching patron of her home, though never was its weight a true burden- not like it would undoubtedly become after strengthening again through Birdsong.

All the way, the grey mare offered a gentle explanation of the shifting lands passed through, their significance to Helovia (that she was aware of), and the features which she found the most interesting.

It was late already, unsurprisingly, by the time light, tan-tinged hooves found the sombre dust above the caves which had kept the population safe through the recent seasons. The air was dry, sapping the moisture from Africa’s throat instantly, though not nearly so awfully cold as it had been during the rest of the journey. Dust stirred by her steps lifted in delicate plumes, clouding thirsty lungs and forcing the occasional cough to shatter the eerie silence surrounding them. "We are very close now." She offered, glancing backwards to check how the other was faring- certainly the one-winged mare was exhausted; her coat trembled as fatigue stiffened the sinew beneath, and she ached for the sweet taste of the Throat’s pure waters.

The thought was enough to pull her stride clear of indolence, and her neck lifted with heart.

On Africa guided them, following a familiar, though invisible, path which curled its way across the shimmering face of untouchable gemstones. It skirted the molten lake- the source of that towering funnel of smoke so visible even as far away as the Threshold, and deeper still into the south where again brittle grass grew sometimes as high as her withers. That surreal pasture lining the Heart was the last distance to cross before the coastline- and there it was, waves thrashing angrily, stirred up by callous wind as she stepped at last onto the sandy stretch at the end of the mainland. Before her lay the bridge of ruin and rubble, narrowed by the elements; now the only access for grounded creatures if they wished to find Dragon’s Throat.

The young Sultana turned quickly, eagerly to her company. "Dragon’s Throat lies beyond this crossing, it is the only access for those who cannot fly- I would not recommend swimming, she chuckled humorously in addition, Because the seas are as violent as the Auro...." Her mild tone trailed without completion as she realised the grimness of the joke she might have shared. Sensitive eyes traced the length of Andreas’s intricately-hued horn right to the tip and she shrugged, forcing cheer back into her expression. "Well let’s just say I would compare its fury to the wrath of an angry God." Gingerly, she stepped forward and the texture of the land shifted again. Crumbled limestone, broken slivers of wall which had not quite fallen beneath the waves; the bridge was precarious still, but more than manageable if they took their time.

The shade of evening began to settle through the clear sky above, and Africa was still more pleased pass into the protection of her home. She travelled inland, and on while the darkness grew until perched upon the banks of the desert’s lavish heart; the shining reflection of the lake filling her starry gaze.

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For @[Andreas] firstly please.

Africa