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Sun saturated the oasis and Africa’s glossy grey feathers reflected the lustre of the day as they ruffled with warm carefree contentedness. Completely oblivious to the spoil of torture, and of clean, childlike character, the young mare studied the strange melancholy drowning the black filly’s eyes as they met with her own, thoughtfully tender gaze. Confused concern curled the corners of Africa’s mouth into a caring smile and she wanted to reach forward to brush the distress from the filly’s face. Bathed in ignorant hesitation though, she withheld the gesture, they were after all strangers and Africa knew not where she stood exactly in her new family; this alien environment which Midas had offered to her as home.
The dark charcoal grey tips of her ears prick forward when the younger horse offers something of a fractured word- Africa did not understand and her eyes searched desperately between the withered look of her company for reason or meaning. ”I’m sorry I...” She began to say gently and apologetically, but her own words were lost to the elated whinny of another. The abrupt eruption of galloping hooves drew Africa’s attention suddenly and she turned her head sharply to discover the slowing arrival of a blue roan mare. The stranger laughed generously, affirming that the filly’s wellbeing was ok. The grey mare flicked her tail uncertainly at this because she supposed the grim opposite- she did not divulge the thought though, as the cheerful sound flooded the tranquillity surrounding the sandy hillock above the blue lake. Shy nervousness swallowed Africa as a warm embrace was given to the upset youngster, and she smiled outwardly- awkwardly, enjoying the very obvious love shared between the two. Settling herself backwards against the tense pinch of her hocks, she glanced left casually and allowed the blue mare and the filly some privacy in their moment.
The deliberate distraction did not last though, as an animal which had escaped Africa’s untrained awareness removed itself from the newest visitor’s neck, where it had apparently been cloaked by long dark mane. The creature had the face of a fox, though its eyes were far wider and sweeter in appearance, and ugly naked wings, she thought secretly- naturally favouring feathered beauty. It seemed to cling to the mare with a bizarre hook halfway down each wing; no forelegs at all, and very short back legs, if they were not just feet instead. As it fluttered across to ‘Lana’ (the fractured word that Africa had been given was the child’s Name!), she noticed its neck was burnt orange in colour, rich and beautiful compared to the scrubby black coat blanketing the rest of its body. How strange, the naive horse pondered, lost in silence and recalling the smouldering bird creature which had accompanied Midas to Helovia’s brim. The animal landed atop Lana’s withers comfortably, seeming to be most at home. Maybe it actually belonged to the filly, and they had been separated at some point.
Africa shook her head, clearing the cloud of thoughts as they began to clutter her focus.
All reunions aside but only a second later, the blue roan Pegasus turned to look at Africa, who rather felt like a third wheel and should have liked very much to have slipped off at that point to leave them to it. The grey mare quickly attuned to the other horse’s light embarrassment though, and blushed in the same fashion, perhaps because she herself had not presented with a polite exchange sooner. A contagious grin remained plastered blatantly over Aryel’s face however, and Africa too beamed, unable to steer her own emotions around the other mare’s sheer happiness. “I am Africa.” She replied gushingly, all nervousness quashed by the genuine quality of the Sergeant’s introduction. Quickly and instinctually she shifted an eye to check on the filly, but she need not have, it was all too obvious that she was dearly loved and would unquestioningly be safe from now on. “New to Dragons Throat, yes.” Africa finished, more than pleased to meet Aryel, but the lasting string of her voice was broken.
More suddenly than Aryel’s arrival on the scene, another mare descended upon the little gathering, and the chatter ceased in an instant. An eerily silencing gust came with her, dragging at the prickles which had tangled in Africa’s mane during exploration. The mare was chocolate brown, and as the grey horse watched the newest move to the side of Aryel, she was struck by the contrasting loveliness of flaxen mane swimming against the motion of her bobbing neck. Africa thought she perceived a seriousness secreting from this horse- nobility perhaps, it was similar to the way she remembered Midas, only he had been warmer with an inviting approach. The brown horse’s eyes seemed to hold the same concern that had swelled within Africa- before she had been sidetracked by Aryel’s delight in seeing Lana again.
Africa’s weight shifted in the supple sand, unbalanced by the change in tone, though at the suggestion of a healer her ears flickered with keen interest. It was far from the right opportunity for her to speak though, and she let herself fall into a humble motionlessness. There was a definite warning tone underlying the brown mare’s following words, and Africa grew uncomfortable; a little insecure- intimidated perhaps by the unfolding situation which she did not understand.
"Thinking. Speaking. Acting."
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