Africa spared not even one second to sleep through their journey west. She was excited, eager to meet with Resplendence again – to hand over the plant-matter she had gathered and perhaps to learn whatever the Edge mare would be willing to teach. They had not set eyes upon one another since the season of growth, when Cheska had agreed to meet both World’s Edge and Hidden Falls before selecting her choice between their homes. There were others too, Nasreen who the one-winged had kept a cherry blossom for, intending to have it crystallised and sewn onto a chain (it had been discarded however, flowers apparently kept poorly in bags), and Thor too, whom she was yet to thank for assisting Rasta and herself in the Threshold weeks prior.

Midas swooped towards the lush emerald forest lining most of the coastline and giddiness lifted her heart. Before the jolt of his landing – hooves finding traction upon earth – the stocky parrot lifted her wings and ascended to make landfall beside him. Silas dipped lower, eager to rest, and assisted her transformation by slowing life’s pace around them. It was a thought turned by then into habit, and Africa was ever grateful that the revelation of their magic combined had come to light – not seconds later, she was standing across four legs by the flank of her partner.

Nose dipped low to the ground to retrieve the satchel which had been dropped, and as she lifted her chiselled skull once again it grazed both the breast of the stallion, and rigid throat along the way – flame licking harmlessly about him throughout the affectionate gesture. There was no time for the exchange of words however, and Africa’s pale, sandy eyes watched curiously as two dark figures emerged through the trees to meet them. Long ears twitched forward, and a smile rose quickly through her feminine expression.

The enormous stallion greeted them cordially enough – she thought – but the presence of the Unicorn mare unsettled her deeply. There was hostility wrought through her posture, so intimidating that the one-winged shrank a little from the Czar’s position – instinct perhaps, she was unfit and unwieldy, no match should aggression arise. Africa had never met Ktulu the Constrictor (not either the wall of stallion who stood between). Silas by then had come to rest on the padded rump of his beloved, and he watched the strangers silently, wariness glinting in his violet eyes.