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?)...”