Africa is understandably quiet; perhaps she's considering how to answer, or finding an excuse to sway my attention from delving into whatever secrets plagued her worn spirit. Though even as this silence clung, I'm confident there would be some form of reply when the former Sultana felt ready to talk. I'd be here with a listening, compassionate ear, and a voice offering what was hoped to be wise council.
Like me, those unseen wounds might be raw and tender to brush, even if the healing touch was well meant. I'm passive, but eagerly waiting in this held silence. When she moved those twig thin limbs forward, on path to study the work on the doorway to our personal, cramped little sanctuary; my eyes followed. Wary that those weak legs would suddenly give way, but a glance upon her face reassures me that there was strength yet in reserve. Silas is awake, singing softly a quiet, short tune.
Despite our talking my own companions slept on, Fina was dreadfully weary from an exhausting journey. Yar, and thankfully none of the company present seemed overly concerned about sharing what little space there was. "Aye," I answered softly, a small grin tugged one corner of my lip when she inquired about the mound of sand and earth sheltering us from the cold. "I could take it down if ye finds this space over occupied?"
Humor soon fades from us both, she sets herself and looks over to me while standing close to the howling storm just beyond a door of iron and soil. That soft voice rises, I listen, nodding assertively when she asked about Guacho, "He came to me not long ago, worried for ye and others." I frowned and looked toward the frosty opening, "With a murderer taking life in Helovia, I feared the worst." Honestly I'd lost hope in seeing this woman, my dear desert sister, alive. Memories served to remind how a previous extended absence had resulted in an amputation. Yar, I don't counter her statement, but Africa was misguided about there not being a spot for another lead, another Sultana. There had been a time during my life that three had mounted that dragon throne. If it was position she desired then all that remained was for her to seize it.
Her words about how much my beloved home had changed beyond recognition creates an unintended sting. "Sand," I whispered, tone weighted and regretful, "Will always endure." It was easier to tell myself that the desert has existed long before my birth and it would continue to thrive without the presence of a Gallent. I was bound to a new oath, one that wasn't easily severed. Perhaps Cera would rise to return it to glory if Guacho and his mate failed.
Her admission and disappoint, none explained way she'd left a titled position, or the loving embrace of her mate. Fina and Neve stiffened in their sleep, feeling my emotions spark, then settle back into smothering coals. She is near, asking for protection, acceptance, who was I to deny it?
"Thee has always been welcome here." It hadn't crossed my mind that she would actually want to live in Hidden Falls, among the cold water and tall timber. "We will find work for ye, have no fear of that." I muster a reassuring smile.
@[Africa]
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![[Image: 5388c9b80fe59]](http://images.helovia.net/index.php/view/5388c9b80fe59)
