The subtle whispering of the hot breeze roused the lush foliage surrounding the travellers to life, and the sudden (tranquil) bursts of movement caused the generous shadows cast across their path to dance lazily. Africa began automatically down the small furrow of a goat-track, worn down through the years by both the traipsing of the horses who called the oasis home, native critters and the rare downpours which more often than not broke the banks of their large, central lake. Though not nearly as vast as the desert outside, the little paradise was well large enough that a journey from east to west could easily take up half a day. “I thought you were leading me into the middle of the desert to make a supper of me for some hungry god.” Inara revealed suddenly and the one-winged could not help but laugh brightly with surprise. She stopped briefly and turned, grinning as wickedly as her sweet, gentle features could manage. “Oh, fear not! The shackles with which you’ll be bound lie just beyond the hill...” A raspy cackle filled the air as Africa lifted her chin towards the dip in the path ahead- of course there was no rise, only crude erosion.

Fire whirled above the playful moving of her skull. Africa was not an overly serious soul, and while she understood and accepted the two-horned mare’s reservations, she wanted to lessen the other’s nervousness (if any lingered). Dragon’s Throat, though fiercely named, was a humble home; not a pit of merciless soul-eaters, veiled by snow and walled by mountains.

“I will stay and learn more.” Inara’s voice mentioned from behind after a small break in the conversation. Africa was delighted to say the least, far happier than she would have been leaving the raven-coated mare to disappear north, to whatever brainwashing the Unicorn’s saw fit. At least she would be able to form her own attitude; travel afar, and return to the desert if she found no future more appealing. Heavy ears were leaning backwards attentively, eyes fixed upon the glinting reflection of water ahead- though still they had a small way to go. “I’m probably pretty useless, but I think lending a hand to fortifiers might suit whatever skills I do have.” The Starry-Eyed swallowed what felt like a stone near the bottom of her throat. The army was not exactly her forte, and for that reason (since Ampere’s disappearance) the numbers of those defenders of sun and sand had dwindled quite pathetically. Nevertheless, she smiled to herself and nodded visibly as she continued. “We’ve not yet set someone at the head of our military. There are a few names though who you might care to remember. Dalibor, Hector and Azulee are all fine warriors.”

The welcome shade failed to stem the surge of Africa’s sweating, and she grew steadily darker; barrel still heaving as lungs struggled to process the hot, dry air available to them. Occasionally she coughed, but she was in no discomfort and very much preferred the climate of her homeland to the sticky humidity of the midlands and the freezing dry far north. “You are welcome to come and go as you please Inara.” At face value, the dark mare seemed honest; dependable, and certainly the serve she had dealt to Sialia back in the Threshold had eased a number of Africa’s own uncertainties; she had no trouble accepting the other’s desire to make an educated decision. “Speak and spar with the army if that is your wish, and perhaps visit our friends, the Falls herd northeast of the Threshold- their land is hard to navigate and their centre is well hidden. It lies in the foothills of a mountain range. Ask for Midas or Rasta and they will welcome you.”

Only a short time later, Africa stepped down the root-wrought embankment above the edge of the lake. After inviting Inara down also with an open-winged gesture and a broad smile, she dipped her nose to drink at long last the cool, sweet water of the Throat.