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The thick pungent aroma of pine swelled through the forest which skirted the very brim of Helovia, drowning the crisp Orangemoon breeze when it seeped between thickets of densely growing wood. It was late in the morning and sun drifted downwards, dappling into long shafts beneath the prickly canopy and highlighting the hanging particles of pollen spores and dust which were disturbed by travellers and hunters alike. Not long ago, Africa had come to Helovia, both enchanted and excited by the wonderful stories of magic and sovereignty woven like shining silk through the gullible years of her childhood. Determination and wonder had fuelled the young horse’s arduous journey from the remote, neighbouring region of Nyorm and Africa had fallen into the welcoming embrace of the forest which now held her imagination completely captive.
Even after many days frequenting the expanse of thick pine woodland, pockets would reveal themselves and Africa would dabble and play amongst the delicate flowers, tasting the succulent grasses and resting beneath the lofty overhang of lone red oaks, where they broke uniform amongst the maze of spindly conifers. This day was no different, and the starry eyed grey lay sprawled out amongst a carpet of long lash golden grass, basking beneath the tepid glow of the climbing sun. She was used to the commonplace wanderings of strangers by now, at ease as horses passed close where she lay, though on occasion she would open her eyes to the gentle murmuring of greeting peering upwards curiously, to find the source.
It was the bright call of another that drew Africa from the grip of a light dreamy doze. "Hello there!" The stallion called through the softly billowing breeze, and the young dapple grey’s ears flickered with interest. The voice had not been too distant, and lifting herself from her supple bed, the mare shook the seed from her coat. Scanning the clearing humbly, the mare picked the forms two horse’s, both similar in colour and each was delightfully blessed with great feathered wings. A cool smile played across Africa’s muzzle and she turned, following a lightly worn track in the couple’s direction. As she did so, the baritone voice of the stallion broke steady the hum of white noise once again. "My name is Phoenix!" it revealed cheerily.
As she approached, Africa whickered in pleasant greeting drawing deeply individual scents automatically. She drew gracefully alongside the mare, offering a polite distance between them and dipped her face in greeting. “Hi.” She greeted both the mare, and stallion glancing to each respectfully. “I’m Africa. Pleasant day don’t you agree?” Ruffling her wings casually, she found comfort as the warm stroke of sunlight soaked beneath the humble gloss of her grey feathers.
"Thinking. Speaking. Acting."
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