Quite unexpectedly Africa’s rather empty stomach seemed roused to life with the tickle of a thousand butterfly’s wings. Rummy-nose was the affectionate name she used to so secretly know him by, and immediately the childish urge to call him that bubbled across her tongue. Carefully her teeth tightened against the foolishly giddy thought, and she smiled quietly instead- the lightness of the expression not filled with the vibrancy and reckless excitement of youth; in its place the delicately traced lines of experience and empathy. Her tail brushed silently backwards and forwards against the blackened point of her hocks and throughout it flames curled and danced wildly to the tune of unspoken emotion. As his unsettlingly dull ruby eyes lifted from the loose surface of the sand, they collided with the waiting gaze of bright caramel and she could not help but sink longingly beneath the stew of his thoughts to a time when they’d once romped as mere children.

The memory, as she slipped within, was blurring already; the long grass by the Heart surrounding him rippling violently as time threatened to erase fine detail. He was alone, lost under the weight of deliberation perhaps, until the hasty clatter of hooves drew him clear. The grey mare passing did not see him as she gambolled always nearer to the molten lake; she was preoccupied and though the vision was devoid of emotion, the watching spirit noticed the rapid backwards slip of the colt’s blood-stained ears. She remembered vaguely (as her own recollection wavered), how her skin had crawled so terribly beneath his ravenous stare and how she had thought at first that he'd been something like a wolf hunting. With smog lolling overhead, she watched as he began to follow her- to pace, like a predator through the grass...

Africa!...

She was pulled instantly from his mind, her face jerking slightly as though he had woken her from slumber. Nevertheless the smile still sat warmly across the quiver of her grey lips. No time had passed, though Voodoo was not as hunched as he had been when first they had slipped into view. His ears were pricked to attention and Africa’s swivelled forward in much the same fashion to listen as he answered in brief. Innocently- though well aware of the plaguing sickness (of sorts) which had troubled him the length of time they’d known each other, the young dappled mare nodded. As she did so, the little snowy fox continued by, tongue caressing in vain the black tip of her sweet face. For a moment sandy eyes followed her path, intrigued that this stallion had come to be in such complementary company. The little canine did not hesitate by the edge of the lapping lake’s edge, instead busting into the air and landing with a small splash in the cool.

Again Voodoo’s voice enticed back her attention, and she answered him neatly and gently. “You could say that, yes.” Africa had never considered herself to be the quintessence of leadership- she thought little more of herself than an imprudent, simple mind actually; certainly lacking the strength and prowess of those who had filled the seat before her. Long gone were the days of no direction and silliness. “We’ve been well enough though...” she concluded with a mild shrug and a soft scoff, wondering in that moment when her companion would return. The unusual presence of Voodoo’s smile (she had no reason to doubt its credibility) cheered her, though his lacklustre eyes were slight cause for concern.

The pup yapped, leaving to water to join the grulla stallion where he had remained to talk with Africa. He introduced them amiably and the one-winged lowered also, fluttering nostrils in greeting. “Silas is patrolling at the moment.” She explained, not altogether he would provide terribly inspiring company anyway. Lifting her face again, she asked her old friend, “Tell me, are you comfortable here? I mean, aside from the heat.” She giggled lightly, tilting her face as affection found its way through her kindly expression. “Is there anything I can do for you? A direction you hope to work towards?” Africa wanted so desperately for Voodoo to be content in the Throat. She knew well that it was the opposite in nearly every aspect to the Basin where once he had bedded, and that it was not nearly so glamorous- yet.

[Ooc: Dumbass Riven has no idea why she was referring to Ouija as a he -.- all fixed up. I hope you don’t mind I used her magic! I will change it if not]