It came as little surprise that Rasta pursued the vague assurance that Cera, child of the Sun, was well. A distracted smile grace thin grey lips as she listened and heavy ears fell forward, flinching every so often when the murmur of a bird broke their focus – the pale palomino’s voice was lathered with concern.

Africa squirmed discreetly on the spot, almost desperate to turn the conversation right away from Dragon’s Throat business... "Honestly," she soothed, tone gentle and mild, "...when I saw Cera last, he was well. Sohalia the Transcended and I saw him rise to Diviner." She wasn’t certain whether he had been in the position when last the they had spoken, but it was definitely where he had been when she had bid the land of the Sun farewell.

"I fear neither of us are well enough for such a journey right now..."

Rasta lifted soon after the one-winged mare, smirking and making small light of the arduous trek along the cliffs that they faced next. It was a journey Africa had not often made – possibly enough simply to count on one hoof... But she chuckled softly in turn and nodded; maybe she would walk nearer to the edge so that her beloved friend could find some comfort with the wall rising as a stalwart barrier beside her.

She appreciated the Artisan’s concern, though she too wished not to bother others with the trivial woes in her life – the burden of the art just performed was nil in comparison, a gift, a pleasure. "The Earth’s power is something far greater than I imagined; I am fine though, thank you." She knew well that in time, the fatigue straining both body and mind would fade, and ecstasy far finer would ensue. After one last check over – Rasta was a bold heart after all, Africa stepped from the soft grass and up onto the first rock ledge of many to come.

She cast a careful eye along the path which would lead them into the territory behind the waterfall, and drew a long breath to hold. Hooves clattered and clicked as they strode along the rubble, hazardous path, but she lead with a brave smile and unfaltering determination. Through the veil of water, and for an hour further they walked – until the gentle sway of evergreen foliage and the harmonious hum of the wildlife within it enveloped them.

The end of the path drew near, and Africa was more than relieved when it faded away beneath her stride where the fresh Birdsong grass had risen in wake of the snow. Pleased with the accomplishment, both the unhindered journey and the healed return of her sister, the one-winged mare turned. "Doesn’t it feel good to be home?" That satisfaction had swept through her core the morning she woke beside Midas, a whole new life beginning.

Africa