She was radiant. As difficult to behold as the golden orb shining down from the heavens, and Silas could not help but cast eyes to one side of her, eager though always to return. He was a night-soul, and she lived for the day; her smouldering body was irresistible and beautiful, but equally painful for his dark-loving violet gaze to look upon for any length of time. She stiffened in place, but he persisted foolishly, unmoved by the fire-like quality of her feathers; purring, cooing, and it seemed to have the effect fancied. The feathers adorning Fina’s breast flared, and her beak was turned from him- she neither fled, nor forced him from her vicinity. That was enough and the young zephyr settled himself on that branch, quite satisfied to roost by her (within her glow at least) for the moment.

Fine, careful hooves picked their path between the wiry grass tussocks, cushioned by the woven needle mat, allowing pastel yellow eyes to concentrate on the duo ahead of her. She could both see and feel each gaze as it swept across her frame; it was a sensation she had grown quite accustomed to through the years, so too the sideward glances and perplexed mutterings of those she happened to stumble across. Unassumingly she continued, not for one second flinching from their embrace, not deterred from their company in any way. If anything, and despite the quite apparent surprise strewn out through his features and comically slackened jaw, Africa was glad to have the Gallant’s company again. It seemed every time they came together these days (after living quite apart), she found the ache for his absence worsen.

There was always business to distract the pining mind though, and when Midas had greeted her softly, intimately, she turned dark wavering lashes from him towards the mare who was speaking next.

“No...” she giggled lightly, almost apologetically, because the tone of the stranger seemed confused and disbelieving; desperately eager. “I was born in Nyorm actually, quite a journey from these shores. It is nice to meet you Laedere; perhaps one day you can tell me about Pompeii, of the fire and ash.” It came as no surprise when Midas spoke of his (current) home this time, in fact, Africa returned easily a tender smile and nodded, looking curiously back to their company. At the mention of the pallid mare’s injury- the part of her wing looped with fabric, the Starry-Eyed agreed, adding (though she fancied he’d not mind anyway), “Will I come with you both?”