A chiding cry rolled down from the clear blue heavens, loud and unabashed as it struck pricked ears of the listening one-winged mare, and frankly any other lingering nearby to the bridge. Silas recalled easily the treason made by the visitor against his gullible, gentle-natured companion; the crude, discourteous handling of her generosity and (the no doubt) self-centred plea to harbour the blood-child of one so estranged. He was not a fan of Aurelia’s behaviour- it brought unnecessary trouble upon his beloved’s already wearied mind. For the first time in a long time, there was no strain clouding her thoughts, no sadness or spoil; why now was this golden-tinged mare again lingering by the gate...?

Lolling in the salty, frothing shallows of the northern shoreline, Africa was cleansing her filthy hide and soaking at length her tired muscles. Much had been achieved lately, and her heart had not felt so lightweight for many years. The grief of her Basin incarceration had been alleviated not long ago while still hordes were sheltering underground; the pent frustration stirred by the two-face wingless black had been all but dissolved entirely from her consideration, and Silk had returned from the dead, stealing back a heart that had been so terribly bruised by the manner of his passing. Though the labour of her appointment beneath the guidance of the God of the Sun was strenuous and days were long, she worked with passion and confidence; drawing strength from Sohalia who had accepted wholeheartedly the task which the Mother of Companions had left behind. For once, life just felt so right.

To good to be true...

The zephyr’s cry echoed through the vast desert wilderness, finding easily her watchful ears. A brisk snort denounced the interruption, but she hauled her sodden body from the surf and shook heavily across the sand, a shimmering spray of seawater rising like a sun-kissed halo about her. The agitation leaked steadily through the bond shared between them and curiously, with growing apprehension, she lifted her light-caramel eyes to find the bird. He was sinking towards her quickly, and his anger plumed in her humble mind.

‘She has come again...’
“Who?”
‘The golden babe... she who turned her back... the child-bearer.’
“Aurelia?”
‘She summons. Demands. Like she has some right...’

Again his irritation filled the hot, dry atmosphere, and Africa felt a chill slither along her spine. It was not that she hated the girl; originally she had been quite fond of her. She had been naive however, and naturally too fast to place faith in those around her. Fool. The Starry-Eyed had returned to the Throat many seasons ago with the child-version in toe, eager and protective; gullible and nurturing. Maybe only a week afterwards, Aurelia vanished without a trace; without a word and the one-winged had suffered terribly at the hand of guilt and failure. She couldn’t have known then, that Aurelia had been simply incapable of any form of loyalty, and that it was in her nature to just be selfish. They had met infrequently by chance here and there; between then and now, but always Africa felt a vicious mistrust for the other; and now as she began to walk uneasily towards the border of her home, foreboding throbbed through her heart.

You never come to pass the time...

Africa was deliberately late on scene. She had no burning desire to liaise with one so unpredictable. Narcissist. Silas swooped down, alighting with a tender grip upon her rocking withers, wings spread wide to balance. To her surprise- and delight, Rasta had found Aurelia first and snorting softly to warn her pale sister of her coming, she drew quietly alongside. “Rasta.” she breathed tenderly, nuzzling the warmth of the other mare’s already dusty coat. Then kindly eyes (concealing well the wariness within), flicked towards the visitor- and again to the limp snake in her company. “Aurelia...” Her voice was soft, thoughtful, careful. “...What's going on? (What trouble are you in now?)...”

Tears etched narrow channels down through the thin, smooth ivory fur along the younger foolish mare’s cheeks, dulling and darkening the golden swirl markings set upon them; golden eye’s appeared to be wrought-red and bloodshot with grief. While Africa’s heart rate began quickly to race and her empathy to churn and agonise on behalf of the girl’s very clear distress, common-sense and the need for self-preservation screamed overbearingly above all; once bitten twice shy... Her pale gaze was mellow as she studied the sunken mass of horse upon the sands bordering her home; beneath them pooled a cautious mishmash of disappointment and pity. Aurelia seemed completely unable to pull herself together. Quickly she decided that the serpent was the source of the devastation; injured? dead? Rasta spoke, her petite cream form pressed snugly and comfortably against the naked scarred shoulder. "I'm assuming the reptilian creation was but once your companion?" Africa moved automatically to nuzzle tenderly the limp creature as it lay shining beneath the full wrath of the sun, but hesitated naturally as instinctual fear twisted her gut.

“She died because of me.” Blubbering, the collapsed girl confirmed her immediate suspicion and the Starry-Eyed’s sympathetic soul sank for the other’s loss. She could not imagine life without Silas; perhaps there would simply be no life left at all. Before she could quell her misgivings to offer anything even remotely compassionate though, Aurelia was speaking again; indulging them with just what foul had brought such tragedy upon her and Shilva. "I was... in a fight... a-and, Shilva bite my opponent's leg, a-and I didn't stop it. I didn't tell her not to!" The dappled mare felt herself shift uncomfortably, not entirely surprised by the other’s revelation. Trouble indeed... “What reason had you to fight?” She asked quickly and gently, but questioningly all at the same time. She cursed herself silently for judging Aurelia so hastily, but the girl just seemed to emanate irresponsibility. Still!

Still the fallen mare cried; and cried and cried...

"Perhaps she wished to save you from the errors of your ways? Of a failed attack that could have swung to the spectrum of a fatality for you?" Rasta suggested sagaciously, and Africa nodded in agreement, despite the girl’s downcast eyes. A silvery wing slipped unexpectedly forward to shade the snake briefly before scooping it clear of its blistering death-bed. Africa shied reactively, already on edge given the circumstances. It was a horribly hot day, and there by the border, there was no relief to ease the burden. Mottled-grey was becoming quickly saturated; blackened by unrelenting sweat, and a horde of flies had united to feast. "I don't even know what to do anymore." Aurelia seemed to bleat, and it compelled a brooding sigh to purge from the lungs of the long-suffering Starry-Eyed.

Perhaps Rasta had felt the flinch of her shoulder; the bewilderment tensing so subtly through her sinewy body. The pale palomino spoke up when any reasonable proposal failed to form across the Sultana’s quivering tongue. It was perfectly timed. "Give her a proper burial. Move. Assess the situation. Do not allow yourself to be overwhelmed. Grieve, when you are safe. Accept the death and accrue new knowledge from it…" Honey eyes closed as her sister’s sensitive tone caressed long slouching ears. Africa had never known about Rasta’s companion, no less a bird. "I would know - I lost my own avian a while back, I am questing to acquire another, to attempt to fill the gaping hole…" Burning sadness swept through her core, and her velvety nose gestured around to brush her friend’s cheek in a show of support and warmth.

“And you?” She started with perhaps a little less warmth as she might have hoped for. “Have you any injuries yourself?” Africa wasn’t entirely committed to calling on the sacred flame of her home to treat any such harm, yet frustratingly, she could no more let Aurelia bleed than throw her to the ravenous sharks off shore. Tiredly she extended pursed, stiff lips to encourage the young Pegasus to her feet. It would do them no good to stay so exposed, burning and dehydrating. “Come child...” she said bluntly, turning inland. “We will find some shade.” Long black and red tendrils snapped despairingly across her swinging hocks, and she began a slow trudge towards the oasis. Africa had once insisted that Dragon’s Throat would always be Aurelia’s home, and she could not dishonour that. She would not so quickly be welcomed into the ranks again though; until she had proven some kind of loyalty, she would remain a guest at best...

The conversation wandered between the topics of fighting and bonds (love and apologies), but Africa’s mind was spiralling well beyond Aurelia’s ridiculously out of control reality; clouding with resignation and frustration. She still didn’t understand how this turn of events had managed to spill across her tranquil desert sands at all; she felt stupid, at a loss. Aurelia had been missing, wandering, feral, for many solid months without trace and the dapple grey wondered with a sigh why now, under such awful circumstances, she had dragged herself and this dead serpent so far south. Something just didn’t add up.

"I've got a few nicks and tucks, and one burn, but I'll be okay. I don't want to waste the healers' time," the younger Pegasus had answered with some civility and no more tears. Why are you here then? A vague, half-hearted smile formed to curl slightly her dusty-red lips but she didn’t turn as she moved to guide the small group across scorching dunes. Hooves scuffed unenthusiastically, driving slippery troughs as she passed across the dry heaped sand, this journey seemed longer than any she had taken before- even that with Madyrn and Maskan from the Basin, when she’d been broken both physically and mentally two years back. The sun seemed more overwhelming, its caress bitter and angry even, and the sweat stained heavily her bleak hide with water and salty. Flies bothered with unrelenting vigour about her pumping nostrils, and she flicked regularly her long, elegant skull to unsettle them; flame engulfed forelock dancing to and fro with each bothered jerk.

Despite the heat, the burden of Aurelia’s unexpected and not altogether welcome return, Africa was glad to feel the press of Rasta’s creamy body against her naked shoulder; scar pink, exposed and burning. In those silent moments spend walking, trudging, dallying, the Starry-Eyed wished that her friend and sister would stay longer, even forever. So different was this new era upon the Throat, and the alien faces expanding throughout brought no comfort or joy; not like those of old, when times were untroubled (mostly), and days were spent lolling by the water, laughing, relaxing... Again she sighed, closing thick eye-lashes across the translucent illusion of the growing oasis ahead. She supposed eventually it would feel like home again.

When finally they fell into the generous cover of the canopy, mimosas and tall swaying palms, Africa stopped and turned towards Aurelia- not quite managing a smile. “I don’t know why you are here. But if you disrespect my home during your stay, you will be turned out for good.” There was a grim sternness etched into her pale face which felt just as uncomfortable as it would have appeared. It gave the Starry-Eyed no pleasure having to say such, but the God of the Sun had set her as guardian over his followers and land alike; and protect both she would with every grain of her being. “If by old Dragon’s Blood’s last leaf fallen by Frostfall you have proven yourself to be no threat, I will welcome you back into our ranks.” She nodded firmly, the softness of her kindly eyes eroded by the gravity of her words.

[ooc: changed her probation to finish by Frostfall.]

Threat.

...perhaps that might have seemed a little harsh. Africa felt weight akin to concrete sink through her stomach, and she shifted uncomfortably across twitching legs. It seemed all at once that the transparency of her bitter distrust had been quite a spectacle- poor Aurelia, no matter how foolish or immature her behaviour, was overcome with a glaze of bewilderment and said quickly, "I would never disrespect your home." The one-winged wanted to extend her quivering nose, I want believe you; but withheld the gesture and stood firm against the sternness of her caution. Quickly the other began again, and the confusion laced her words like night-frost over grass. "I have never been a threat to this herd, and I never will be a threat. I am will not do anything to threaten you, this land, this herd, nor anyone allied with these lands."

She thought suddenly of her own treachery, that which she had paid dearly for- the one which Midas had both forgiven and comforted her for. Africa remembered the day atop the beach-side cliff, when the God of the Earth roused the waves into chorus and the tree line to waltz. Aurelia had been there, wounded, but the pang of the younger’s crude rejection had been as raw, as toxic, as a wolf-bite. She was a kindly heart it was true, but she was no more susceptible to hurt and infidelity than any other around them. The golden-flaked mare had left a scar upon the Starry-Eyed’s frail, impressionable mind. With some grimness remaining, Africa nodded- fully appreciating the apparent sincerity of the pledge. She had set the timeframe, and given the chance, the proof, she would happily take it away.

Rasta stood all the while in relative silence. The petite palomino was pressed close against the flinching flank of the one-winged, and Africa was more than grateful for the show of steadfast support; a reason to not crumble back into her own miserable pool of obligation and insecurity.

Aurelia asked suddenly, brashly, "...what position are you?" and the grey bristled agitatedly. Pale eyes stiffened as they sought the other’s tear-stained, golden eyes; be calm. She drew a long breath and held it, pulling her narrowing gaze towards the clear blue heavens above. The girl continued, "I do not know if this is of any use to you, but I wanted to tell you Gaucho was back, but he doesn't remember anything." Lungs purged the breath at last. “That is useful information...” she answered without delay, avoiding the first question asked. “Thank you.” Naturally Africa wondered where he had been between the final days in the Sancturay, and now. She was curious about his return to Helovia, but more so about the reason he’d not come home. Like with the absence of Midas, Dragon’s Throat had a great void in its midst- especially the army.

Again Rasta rescued the situation, dissolving the tension which seemed always to linger about the estranged friends, sisters like Africa had called them a long time ago, asking gracefully, "Where would you wish for this burial to happen?" and also, if she would join them, for some memorial perhaps- the Starry-Eyed was none familiar with death and the respects owed consequently. “I will, Rasta.” She answered with recovering tenderness, offering Aurelia condolence through a dipped skull and sombre half- smile.