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02-14-2015, 07:48 PM
Swollen barrel bulged unnaturally towards the roof as she lay motionless upon her naked side, lost peacefully in slumber with Midas close by. Though never fully relieved of her discomfort – of the ever growing, unexplainable ache within – Africa was content enough at last to fall beneath the blanket of her fatigue, upon old leaves and grass, scattered to make good the cold floor of the prison cell. Dreams quickly ensued and they were a pleasant reprieve from the torture of nightmares that once harried her rest – even if their playful innocence had become increasingly obscure through recent months. So deep was her coma (and that also of the companion perched upon slumped thigh), that the one-winged mare failed to notice the space left when her lover crept from her side and away; even the slow rate of breath did not startle. Only as the searing light of late morning inched across the defined entrance of her den did she stir at last, and as her elegant neck peeled from the floor, bleary eyes noted without alarm that she was alone. Oftentimes Midas slipped from her side to work - patrol or tend official business. It was an aspect of leadership that she understood well, and Africa never questioned such absence. With some trouble, she rocked to her knees and paused at length to recover breath lost to exertion; chin dipped to rest the weight of her skull above the flinching skin of her forearm. Another grand sigh and she thrust forelegs forward - so too, the burden of her body against them. It took several tries (she was glad not to have worried Midas with such uncharacteristic awkwardness), but soon enough she was swaying above splayed limbs in the luminous cell she called home. Quickly she looked for Silas, yet there was no trace – not even thoughts nearby to draw from. Curious... she hummed softly, and forced cracking joints to carry her outside. Ambling near to the stream to quench her thirst as a priority, she noted the late hour and quirked a brow – it had been a relatively early night also. No wonder he left. Amusement bubbled in her throat, and she dipped velvety grey lips to drink. |
