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01-20-2015, 07:38 PM
Africa was turning, even before they had stopped completely. Even through her years as a Dragon (Citizen, Diviner, Sultana...), the dappled mare had found great pleasure in introducing the newest herd mates to their home, helping them settle and giving them at least the most solid foundation to begin with. She wanted Menagerie to stay long term, to watch her succeed – to shun the suffering she had known, and rise above that hardship. As the two mares settled beneath the tree line, there seemed little need to call back the sun out of its bed. Silas was far fonder of the deepest night hours too, less so the dazzling brightness and taxing heat of the day. Silent wings dipped through still-warm air and he swooped into the lofty, bristly embrace of an old raggedy juniper; sharp lilac eyes peering ever down across his beloved. Although pangs of hunger resonated through his small frame, while she lingered with the new bay, he would remain close – a star-spangled sentinel ever on duty. Laughter – as delicate as a babbling brook – spilled from smiling lips and Africa dared nearer to Menagerie’s better side with fondly twitching lips. "You don’t have to thank me, Minnie." Always demure and squirming wildly beneath the gushing tide of the other’s appreciation, she dipped her pale face also. "I’m always around if you need me. Down there,” flames danced as the elegantly bowed neck beneath pulled her face to gesture in a south-easterly direction. "...There are caves that I nest in. You’re always welcome, you know." There was a flutter of wind-touched feathers, scrabble of claw against branch, and Silas glanced one sharp up towards the very pinnacle of the tree; skull tilted awkwardly. A twig hurtled down and the zephyr’s puffing breast rumbled unhappily as it bounced off feathers drawn tightly together, instantly, like a shield. The icy child that seemed always these days to follow Fina was gazing upon him with bright, childish delight and his gaze narrowed carefully at her. Crouching across coiled stilt-thin legs, the Roc hopped up to a limb opposite, higher, and began chewing and bending at another fixed, living twig – perhaps not altogether understanding her request. He was curious though, there was no mistaking that. Africa |
