She’d only ventured close by the border of the Foothills once before. It was a memory she cared not to recall (rampant wraiths and descending darkness), and Africa certainly could not remember what the north-eastern region looked like after that adventure. There had been no reason to wander so far beyond the Threshold in recent times though, so the unusual spatter of well watered trees took her quite by surprise. There was rubble between their small, sparse groups- she thought, as though the mountains behind had crumbled in part to scatter across and scar the land. Rock quite unlike the red and gold sandstone of the desert lay all around the path that the Gallant led them down- dark, black and marbled grey, as oppressing as the shadow she imagined them sliding beneath. If not for his presence, Africa feared easily that she’d be lost already and for that reason, presumably, the visitor found herself pressing a little closer.

At first she was not impressed, eyes fluttering politely, trying to express weak delight. Dragon’s Throat was wild and ferocious, delicate and beautiful; and as her thoughtful gaze roamed around the cluttered undulating terrain beneath her tentative tread, she found no comparison. Interesting also, was the fact that they seemed to be alone. The Starry-Eyed strained instinctively to listen to the world she was entering, to find the hum of activity within (that held him to stay), but alas there was only a strange, dull roar. She was almost sad for the stallion, her friend and brother; he’d been pulled from a thriving realm to bear the weight of what? A piping quail? Chorus of peaceful crickets at night? Softly and pensively she snorted, eyes coming to rest upon the steady rock of his powerful hindquarters.

Don’t be so fast to assume, the unexpected voice of her bonded interrupted. He’d flown far overhead in pursuit of the Phoenix, and knew better already that a strange valley was hidden ahead from her view. Ears flicked forward quickly as the exotic tongue of Laedere broke the silence at about the same moment, intrigued, and the Starry-Eyed looked quickly towards her. The injured mare’s captivated focus guided curious creamy eyes around Midas’s rump and up a towering waterfall spilling from cliffs in the sky. Again the green-hinted mare spoke of the fire-shower back home, and Africa chuckled quietly to herself. The Gallant assured her modestly that his home was quite free of such affliction. He spoke also of Helovia’s burning heart and Africa smiled absently, fondly, lulled by the cool tenor of his voice.

As Fina slipped away beyond a vast wall appearing to consist of weathered rock and plunging water at first glance, Silas tipped his own wings down. With faint starlight trailing behind, the night-bird swooped down towards the standing trio, and came to rest with an affectionate rumble across the dip of Africa’s silk dressed back. Will we stay? he questioned cautiously, trying to conceal his desire to explore the new range of his better cousin. I hope so, Africa answered, for a second peeking at the black and white Czar standing gloriously before the frothing white backdrop of falling water. Laedere will need time to rest... and fire twirled through her long thick hair, roused by the soft warm breeze.