On a recent camping trip to the south-eastern flank of the Threshold forest, Africa had discovered a delicacy she had not sampled for at least four seasons. Where the trees huddled in thick groves and their sprawling canopies meshed together snugly, deep shade cloaked the littered floor for much of the year. It was there - where the brash mind never thought to look – through the dense mat of leaves that the soft faces of mushrooms peeped curiously. As a foolish girl, fresh to Helovia and drunk on excitement, the dappled mare had experimented with much of the lands fine produce. Occasionally this tasting earned her a dreadful stomach ache, a spinning world or unnaturally long slumber, mostly she was lucky and discovered treats worth returning for.

As she ambled slowly up a narrow goat track from the south – belly swollen, filled to capacity – the Starry-Eyed hummed a cheerful tune. Her coat had smoothed considerably in the months since her arrival in the Falls; hooves no longer flaked and her curves had again filled to feminine perfection. Both physically and mentally her recovery had been slow. She often thought of Dargon’s Throat, of the family that she had abandoned on a whim and the God of the Sun who had shown her nothing but faith and generosity. A plaguing worry, Africa knew that eventually both obstacles would need to be confronted; her future depended on it as did the mending of her mind.

Silas rode low upon her back, neck curled around and skull nestled beneath star-glittered plumage. He too was stuffed to the brim and had presumed himself unable to fly in such a state – he slept soundly, far too uncomfortable to commit to anything more energetic.

The roar of the waterfall grew steadily as she neared the perimeter of her home and long sooty ears roamed ever alertly through licking flame. Though perhaps it was no secret, Africa often fancied the cave behind the plunging water to be a private entrance of which no other knew – carefully she approached, pale eyes glancing about broodingly. To her surprise, on this occasion there was another lingering, and a smile rose swiftly through her ashen features. "Laedere!" she called brightly, though the tone of her voice was humble and quite soft. "How has your wing healed up?" Thoughtful gaze wandered towards the other’s damaged limb, and she halted close enough to investigate.

Africa