Beyond the tranquil mountain’s abyss - where gold shimmered as the burning warmth of the setting sun melted across it and mother and child rested together - there was a commotion, a bellow, and it drew the pale golden eyes of the mare suddenly towards the land’s main entrance. Midas had built for them a comfortable home, a nest upon which to raise their blood, and perhaps one of the finest qualities was its location. It lay beneath the Gallant’s favoured watch point, and so too did view from it stretch to the rocky entrance. Wide eyes scanned its rugged face, and long sooty ears fidgeted with growing apprehension.

Although her lover had been missing for weeks, Africa often glanced by his sentry post nearby - it was still empty now, and as the roar of a stallion (it was almost familiar) resonated through the still murmur of their territory Africa rose in his stead, to flank Ghost who had been crudely summoned and show her support. They were hardly alone though, another voice barrelled down with all of the grace of dancing elephants, and Zahra too stirred, bleary, hesitant eyes glancing from her mother’s worried expression to the final glory of daylight outside.

“Zahra stay…” the dappled mare insisted with urgency that the foal was quite unused to, but for the moment the young Pegasus obeyed.

It was then that the mare felt rising desperation, fear - something about this was not right.

She was torn in two; the desire to protect her only child, the babe so loved and longed for by both she and Midas, and discover the reason for the noise. While she lingered, it seemed then for the better, those who had arrived - she knew initially of only the male - launched an unprovoked attack, and instantly the Starry-Eyed recoiled. She slipped frantically back beneath the shadowy protection of their mountain and hovered above Zahra who had risen to her small hooves. Imploringly she gazed at her mother, feeding of the tension wrought through her body, tightening, flinching, and Africa gazed grimly down.

After a moment’s consideration, she began to speak…

“Zahra, I need you to find a path to the north and leave. Many streams curl between rock and tree and you must find one such path to follow - let none trace the scent of you. I will come for you dearest, find the deep forest to the south and wait there for me. I will come for you my daughter.”

The child’s eyes widened fearfully.

The thud of flesh against flesh, gnashing teeth and the rise of the foreign stench infiltrated their den.

"Go now!"

Gangly legs tangled as she swept frantically from the presence of her mother. The foal trembled as sight of the impending war overwhelmed her and she began to cry, to sob, and gallop and swiftly as her tingling body could manage through scrub, (she thought) thick enough to conceal her escape.

Africa turned as her only child vanished into the forest, and angry began to build through the confusion. She would not stand idly by, she had sworn service to this - her home, her lover - and she would honour their cause now, as the faces of their neutral neighbours descended. Silas, let’s go…