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The visitor's coat held not the grim ambience of the night sheltering them, the mask of clever shadow and concealment cloaked around the zephyr who circled beyond the reach of the featherless. Perhaps it was the white frost which trailed Silas, embraced him, which caused the stallion’s strange gaze to lift and seek his heavenly lair. His own sharp lilac gaze sliced down through the darkness to hold the creature who wandered, scattering briefly from the masculine silhouette of paled brawn to find any accompanying. Dalibor was alone it seemed, no movement flanked him- though the zephyr’s nocturnal glare could see well past the vagueness of their kin. Much time had passed between the moment shared between all three in the Threshold; interactions more positive, encouraging, and the one-winged mare’s valiant guardian held no slighted grudge on her behalf.

The raven-dark bird, bathed in the opulence of a well gifted night, quickened the silent stroke of his wings- only subtly, so that he was soon gliding over the top of his beloved. Casting a sharp eye backwards to find the stallion’s progress, Silas wheeled away to the right to carry on with his solitary, high altitude scouting.

The sand was warm, sunlight trapped beneath its slippery loose level and her step was cushioned comfortably, and muffled as she strode on to descend the dune. Likewise, there seemed no chance for her forward striven ears to find the approach of the male. Should not the flash of his drifting path have been pushed through her mind by the avian above, Africa might have jumped when first his voice brushed so carefully the air between them. Already though she was turning, long strong forelegs dressed in dust-lathered white guiding the slim curve of her fit feminine frame around to meet him.

The young grey almost blushed- she was thankful for both the cover of darkness around them, and for that bleak pallid shade upon her face which buried such bashfulness from sight. "Sad?" She bluffed, forcing quickly a brave smile to sit across her dry, whiskered lips. The art of deception had never been her forte, and already the awkward switch of her long thick tail and the slight guilty sway of her lithe body, had revealed the accuracy in his perception. "I was thinking, that’s all..." Again Africa smiled, though the second was less strained; it was warm and welcoming. She took a graceful step towards Dalibor, drinking deeply the thick stench of him through greedy nostrils.

The stallion’s stark, eerie eyes had glanced clear of her own milky stare and her neck curled around beneath a hedge of licking flame to find that firelight matching, which had snared his interest. The shrine, the sacred fire of the Diviner lay close and Africa sighed pensively as she turned back to the muttered sound of his unnecessary apology. Gentle eyes drifted down to find ebony knees striving away from her, one gold hoof dulled without bright daylight; pulling the attractive limber roan from her grasp. "Stay!" She called quickly through the stillness of the night, the ring of her plea smooth and inviting; quietly melodic. "Why don’t you come with me to the fire?" She asked with a brisk shrug of her rippling shoulders, "It’s been such a long time between chats, don’t you think?"

She was turning, guiding him with a playful snort and glint in her lash-lined eye, wishing him to follow if no greater duty called his heart away.

Africa