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At once she felt at ease in Dalibor’s company. It was a gullible safety that drew from what she considered to be a rather candid character; no frills about him, no reason to second guess. Even while plaguing worry had moments before glazed the soft gentleness of her stare, his ability to distract those thoughts, to pull her away into a world of intrigue and unexpected attraction- no matter how fanciful, was more than welcome. She was not the wisest judge of character, but enough experience was notched into her sleek, slender girth to suggest that this golden-eyed stallion was dependable. His question hovered between them, even as her tanned hooves dabbled forward through the supple sand and his moved to join. The one-winged thought deeply, broodingly, about how she might answer but soon enough the soft whicker of still another stallion broke her focus.

Cream-hued eyes lifted at once to meet the night-darkened, emerald gaze of Cera as his wander ceased by her and Dalibor. Prior to the meeting called together by she and Ampere when first the God of the Sun had brought them home, he had been all but a legend woven into the sunburnt land; a name held so close by the heart of her gold-wielding friend and mentor. Since that day though, the progeny of sun and sand itself- the epitome of Dragon’s Throat, bore a face she could recognise and appreciate. Not forgetting her bay-spotted company there scribbled with scars; a treasure trove of tales to captivate her curious mind and ravenous gaze, Africa turned her lavishly lashed eyes to invite him closer. Her long thick tail flicked placidly through the tug of a mild breeze, bright flames twirling playfully throughout its significant length and she turned again to Cera to reply.

"Hi Cera..." the delicate tune of benevolence slipped from the smiling part of her dry grey lips. "All is well brother," she told gently for the second time that night. She had little want to burden them with all of the worry and fear coursing through her veins for the welfare of her family and their home. Africa was not deceitful by nature though, and much like her vain attempt to conceal the truth from Dalibor, she failed dismally then before the Throat’s son. Only now could she relate to all that Midas had confided in her, about the inevitable weight of leadership and the overwhelming accountability as well. She smiled on obliviously, shifting her weight left across clicking knees to allow the yellow-eyed stallion still nearer if it pleased him.

"Have you both met before now?" Africa asked then, pausing and passing a curious look between them. "Dalibor," she began warmly trying to retrieve the stray of what she imagined to be discomforted eyes. "This is Cera. He has served Dragon’s Throat still longer than I- since he was just a boy. " Unreservedly she looked towards the painted stallion, caramel and white glowing subtly against the darkness of the night, and remarked, "Dalibor is a fine warrior Cera, perhaps among the greatest of our army." It was a generous speculation indeed, but the one-winged mare had witnessed his prowess some time ago in the Threshold, and the network of scarring across his hide- those quite prominent across his face, seemed reason enough to believe. What did Africa know of the arts of battle...

[Ooc: Poor Dalibor haha, bless him. I will use this thread to make Cera's appointment official IC ;) I'm so bad at remembering to tag, so if you would prefer me to just let me know.]

Africa