Naturally, though still lacking any real form of experience, Africa would have assumed that choosing a central spot in the thickly wooded forest’s split would have fetched her greater response and attention from the many travellers therein. Perhaps she was foolish for parading herself in such barefaced fashion, but she gave her actions little forethought, and certainly had forgotten the grave teachings of her mother; survival and other trivial matters that a child has little if any reasoning to understand.

Many horses moved around her as the minutes, and then the hours fluttered by- a sea of brilliant and befuddling diversity churned around her, and Africa’s (perhaps exorbitant) morale, began to fracture. The young impatient horse fidgeted where she had taken position on a small hillock about midway between the surrounding forest fringes. She could see quite well about her, and watched with dismay as a multitude of horses (predominantly mares like herself she noted loosely) found their way into the clearing with her, only to surrender to the wild fairy tale promise of kings and princesses; queens and knights. Africa had come from a simpleton life; peasant maybe- such where stallions collected a harem of mares... and that was life. She knew nothing of this but the whispering romance of her mother’s aging voice, as she lulled her daughter into slumber; famous legends of grandiose kingdoms; and in particular it had always been the thrill of treason and blood thirst that captured her imagination.

A soft warm breeze tousled the thick pad of forelock draped limply across the sloping white bridge of her nose. Velvety smooth nostrils, and long sensitive whiskers quivered with unrelenting excitement and Africa was overwhelmed by the barrage of strange scent offered. It was a pleasant enough day, and the sun had neared its climax; high and hot, and the grey horse ruffled the interlocking sheen of feathers which dressed her wings. The soothing rays saturated the shadowy grey skin beneath and the full expanse of her hide prickled with pleasure.

A soft sound sought her attention suddenly (perhaps she had been basking in solitude long enough not to expect it), peeling confidently through the crowding hum of other conversations. Africa turned to find its owner progressing quickly at her rear. She did not hide her astonishment as their faces met (her eyes were swift to locate the strange creature sitting comfortably atop the pinnacle of his sloping shoulder), and momentarily she was dumbfounded. The young horse undoubtedly would develop her social skills as she matured and adapted into life, but having come from a rather sheltered upbringing she, for the time being was primitive- a clean, undeveloped slate.

The moments passed too quickly as Africa scrambled to find her thoughts, and finally she replied, “Hello”, lightly; struck with awkwardness and sudden fear. She smiled outwardly, offering the stallion the only grace and coolness she could muster. “As does your companion...” She exclaimed, realising that she could not focus on anything other.

“Forgive me.” Africa asked politely, after stealing the spare seconds between exchanges to gather herself properly, and she smiled humbly-“I have not seen one before.”