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...