Africa's words, as gentle as ever, seemed to be plagued with some sort of hidden emotion; whether it was that comes along with leading or even a personal issue within her own heart, you couldn't quite pinpoint, and there really wasn't enough time to search within your brain for any other ideas because we have started throwing a temper tantrum and throwing old files about in your skull. Aren't we so much fun? Both back to back full and empty papers flutter around in our small apartment as we dance around, stepping on all of your memories in attempts to stop you from thinking too hard. It just might hurt your little brain someone mocks in a baby voice.

Your brows furrow at the idea of your friend being unhappy, but you know you have nothing to offer to help.. Well, nothing but your companionship. A memory that we seem to miss allows you to recreate a scene in your head, and we stop and watch the film play against the backs of your bloodied eyes: The darkness went on forever, and the smell was foul and dank; had you two found the caves before anyone else had? The underground prison that held so many bodies in the belly of Helovia.. was that it? The heat constantly pulsing off of the gray's body was suddenly against your chest, and you could feel the shock and awkwardness that grew feverishly in your entire body. Just coming into a stage of puberty that you didn't understand at even the most basic level, you remember panicking, but liking it too much to just leave it be.

Your cheeks flush beneath black fur at the thought of your first meeting and where this friendship began to flourish, and now that you're back out of your own head, you notice Africa's molten eyes watching your own. A shaky breath is held tight in your lungs, and you beg to us to straighten up and be quiet. Both ears rotate backward in an ashamed manner, knowing that you can't let go of something that happened so long ago. This is when Ouija wiggles into view, and the Starry-eyed directs her attention downward, the tight breath finally bursting from your nostrils in a loud sigh, the introduction following. "Silas is patrolling at the moment." You nod, quickly remembering the fire bird that you had met when Africa had found you solemnly hiding in the Threshold.

Ouija reaches out to the gray muzzle that stretches down to her, sniffing rapidly and licking her little chops as water droplets form against white fur. Her large ears cup forward, her tongue sliding out from between small sharp teeth, big eyes staring up happily at the mare. Thankfully, she's finally learned that jumping on everyone isn't the way to get their attention, and dirtying their legs isn't exactly adorable. The Sultana lifts her grown head up once more, her question to whether or not you're comfortable plucking at numerous strings in your mind; really, no.. You're not comfortable anywhere, but as long as you have somewhere to come home to, then it's good enough, right? A soft chuckle rattles your narrow chest for a moment before you respond, ears flicking forward once more. "I'm as comfortable as I'll ever be-" you smirk, hoping that your dear friend will understand what you mean.

"I just stand out. A lot." Glossy pits roll upward to gesture at the red bone jutting from your skull, falling back down to her dreamy eyes again after a second. Your weight shifts uncomfortably beneath a tired body and you lick the back of your teeth, craving the water that's so close by. Ouija -growing bored ever so quickly- stands back up, shaking out once more before trotting over to Africa, hoping to rub against her leg as a warm goodbye, before leaving to stock birds that surround the oasis.

As for her following question, you blink quietly, not quite sure how to answer it. Do you want to do anything with yourself? Perhaps you should figure out what exactly you would be willing to do with your life.. you are growing older, and you have a.. RYUU! The excitement that already makes your stomach bubble bursts and a wide smile replaces slack lips. "Anything to help my son." You mumble, the raspy coating of your voice making the words more audible than you had believed. Another paper flurries down from the air after hanging up there for quite some time, landing flat against the bottom of your skull: Ryuu's dual colored eyes, full of misery at such a young age. All you can seem to remember is his small ears shooting forward and the velvet touch of a child against your own hardened mug. A hard thud makes your heart hurt at the idea of Ryuu growing up without a father; you have to find your son.

Text here "Chat here." Voices here
Tagged: @[Africa]
Ooc: Haha, no big deal. I don't mind at all, search that void as much as you'd like! Lol.

Table by Frostie