"Don't mean to offend. The last to touch this body was someone who brought hurtful memories. It was not to offend you." She did not react immediately when his manner which had been quite undeservedly cruel and unpleasant, softened unexpectedly. Her expression quickly revealed her surprise though, even while his profound voice did not dissipate quickly beneath the drumming rain. Africa had long been convinced that Shajake was socially inept, and perhaps incapable of chivalry and heart. Bewildered, her honey eyes watched as he swung away from her equally as suddenly, slipping awkwardly in the mud as he tried to manoeuvre himself to face the path they had already covered. Not because he had suddenly shown some new face of his soul, the young horse hesitated between reaching to check that he was alright and shrinking back in fear of what might come next. She was torn and quite confused.

He found his feet without her, and a meek sigh slipped through her nervously parting lips as he powered away from her through the slush. Left standing there alone and disjointed, Africa felt the cold creep in close around her and she shivered apprehensively. Her pale grey brow furrowed as her glazed stare followed his retreat, and narrowed with interest when he slid to a stop by the stream where they had been previously loitering. Oddly, he nosed around the ground briefly and turned hurriedly to return to her- amazingly with her prisoner locked carefully between his chastising jaws. She gasped with astonishment, and quickly remembered to smile graciously, staggered by his drastic change of heart. Africa was touched to say the least- it would certainly save an enormous amount of scouting later on. To her, he looked gallant; not for one second like an idiot.

Shajake turned and led them to the tree.

In turn the murky dappled stallion answered her probing about his home, "Well.... if you think of the Deep Forest as a home, you could say that. I tend to reside there." Africa giggled softly, she knew the forest well. In fact, on many occasions through the last week she had trekked well into its depth to dig for fern roots, and the mushrooms which thrived exclusively beneath the thick decaying carpet of leaf and forest litter there. She nodded briskly, not entirely sure of his emotional stability- it seemed queer to her that one could faze through such a variety of stark personas in barely an hour. Compassionately though, her eyes sought the aloof green shimmer of his, searching for reason; trying to understand. His voice was perhaps the only aspect of him which remained unchanged- whether that was by truth or fiction, she could not yet tell.

Sidling up to the old wood trunk, Shajake lowered his head to fiddle between the tall knots of exposed tree root. Africa watched curiously as he placed the flower- her captive, with remarkable tenderness and covered it with a small rock. She wanted to caress him, to indulge her gratitude upon him but did not. She respected his request for room, and fluttered her nostrils happily instead.
“Are you ok?” She asked quietly, preserving his personal space considerately, but not enough to avoid her noticing the heavy sigh wrack through his dark frame. Tentatively, she swayed across her long legs, trying to grasp any sense of illness or harm that might have slipped her notice before now.