Fittingly, the mid-morning sun shed a soft orange glow through the Threshold’s primarily pine, forest. The long gangly trees cast rib-like shadows beneath, and a playful mare passed in swift, leaping bounds across them and into the filtered streaks of warm sunlight across the littered floor- light, dark... light, dark.
She came to collect an arrangement of the last blooms of the season, naturally though, she had found herself quite distracted by the myriad entertainment prospects presented before her very, imaginative step.

“No, you break your back if you step on the black...” Her shrill light hearted voice broke the mellow drone suspended throughout the area. “Stay in the light!” She repeated again, the slightest hint of mockery dribbling through her tone. After the brief pause, balanced precariously across tightly grouped hooves in a very slim beam, Africa bunched the sinewy muscles strapping her long hind legs and leapt away, clear of the next murky shadow.

She continued merrily in much the same way for a good hour or so, completely losing track of time. It was only when a chanting voice, louder than the clumsy thud, thud of her own hooves, rang through the still air, that she snapped back into reality. “Oh, bugger...” She blurted, as the chill of the shade she was standing in drew a shiver up the length of her spine. Game over again...

Curiously then, her black-rimmed ears pricked with intrigue, towards the sound of the stranger's song.

“Way hay and up she rises
Way hay and up she rises
Way hay and up she rises
Earl-eye in the morning!”

She had never heard the tune before, nor could she comprehend the meaning or lyrics alike. Never the less, Africa ventured forward through the trees, following the addictively cheerful tone at a brisk trot, north. Her long swinging gait easily caught the mare it seemed, and as the stocky, mottled figure materialized through the tree line ahead, a broad smile slipped across the dapple grey Pegasus’ gentle face.

“What do you do with a drunken sailor,
What do you do with a drunken sailor,
What do you do with a drunken sailor,
Earl-eye in the morning!”

The other concluded her tune, and Africa waited with baited breath. As the last note trailed off, she swept forward recklessly, nickering ahead of her arrival in greeting. ““Hello, hello!” She called, closing the final gap and propping to a standstill at her normal, courteous distance. “Few who traverse this forest sing like you.” She waffled with a smile and thought inwardlyand me., “It’s a nice change you know, so many wear doom and gloom as an impassable cloak upon their backs...”

The young mare tilted her head thoughtfully as her gaze surveyed her company- she bore wings; enormous wings. There was no judgement lingering within her creamy-golden gaze though, Africa was simple and her expression was open and honest. Ordinarily she sought her own kind, yet not by racist intent. The threat from the north was ever-looming, and those unicorns detested the winged species passionately- the grey knew well from personal experience.

She shrugged casually, sidestepping from shade to sunlight, and asked, “Have you come to pick flowers too?”

All at once, and quite to Africa’s ordinarily oblivious surprise, the other mare collapsed forward across her knobbly knees, wings flung open to balance- or that is what she immediately thought having never witnessed such a dignified form of salutation. She staggered forward promptly to assist. “The name’s Tesande!” the smallish few-spot Pegasus continued without skipping a beat, and the young dapple grey paused just as abruptly, watching with bewildered enthusiasm, her pale amber eyes wide and focused with expanding interest. “Well if it were the season fer flowers I’d probably be pickin’ em! If ya know where any flowers are?” Already the young mare was nodding the start of her response, if there were to be any subject worthy of her love and devotion, Helovia’s flora was it.

“An’ what brings you out hea? Miss…” “...Africa.” She revealed on cue, and smiled broadly all square teeth flashing heartily, their saliva coating glistening as the sun beat upon down upon them. “Well actually I come through these parts often, the pine scent clears the sinuses like no other!” Africa laughed brightly, and though entirely serious, felt at ease enough in the company of Tesande, to soften her traditionally formal ‘meet and greet’ manner. “I come from Dragon’s Throat, the desert peninsula way down south, and it’s nice to escape the dust.” A soft snort burst through her flared nostrils, and she sucked deeply the crisp, cold air which lingered peacefully around them.

Unable to resist, Africa’s thoughts jumped quickly back to the previous subject, which was still hanging in limbo, awaiting her ambitious attention. “Are you staying long? Perhaps we could walk together and I could show you where the elusive winter colours hide.” Already she was stepping forward, but it was a tentative motion that could easily have been withdrawn if the offer seemed unsuitable to her friend. “What brings you through the Threshold, Tesande?” Politely curious, the young grey’s pale face tilted humbly to the left as she waited with baited, perhaps overly zealous breath for the other to continue.

The spotted mare reeked of enthusiasm; in fact, the energy bursting through each coil-spring prance could easily have rivalled the intoxicating levels which writhed through Africa’s own lively character. “Sounds like an’ ADVENTURE!” Tesande responded true to form, and the grey Pegasus’s complexion beamed openly with amusement. She had been on many adventures through the Helovian wilderness, and Voodoo drifted through her thoughts briefly, the strange emotion that had stirred within her naive core; the way their personalities clashed like waves breaking upon the shoreline. The rummy-nosed colt had accompanied her not too many moons lost, fleeing the wrath of hounds born of flame; the malevolent heart of this land. Together they had unearthed a gemstone, a treasure and Africa had buried it safely within her nest below the desert cliffs hedging the oasis.

Lost in silent reflection, her honey eyes sparkled.

Tesande agreed heartily, and the young grey’s skin prickled eagerly, delighted that she had found an explorer with such an uncannily similar mind-set as her own. Of course Africa had been sheltered through her youth, and as a result possessed a quite narrow-minded perspective of the world around her- Nyorm, her birthplace and Helovia, her home. She could never have imagined the experiences notched into the belt of her new found friend; not even in the wildest dreams crafted by her overactive and childlike imagination. Sing songs! She thought quietly as she listened to her friend’s distinct planning, and her eyes were wide with expanding delight. Africa thought that Tesande might even break into melody right then as she struck a dramatic pose, quite fitting for the playful mood which now embraced the duo. The mostly snowy mare continued, unfazed by the attention they had gathered from critters and Threshold folk alike. “An’ pick flowers while we do eet!” Africa wasn’t bothered either, and trembled beneath the contagious confidence which oozed from her charismatic company, one wing slung casually to straddle her mottled back. “We will have much fun together…” she continued, and not nearly as self-assured as Tesande, but quite comfortable in her own skin, the grey bounced on the spot in response, more than ready to set off.

Africa was not a born leader, and though brimming with ambition and zest, she was a rather timid and sensitive soul. She was more than happy to follow the lead of her friend, to sit humbly off-centre and soak up the radiating extravagance which appealed to her so very much. Tesande started forward and Africa watched bluntly with a captivated expression as the mare strutted, perhaps more naturally than a fish could swim! Subtly the grey guided their direction south-west, to where she knew the country’s core seemed frozen in time. All the while they progressed at a cheerful pace, the appaloosa spoke, and Africa listened curiously in unwearied silence- often she had to hold her breath to avoid giggling; the other mare’s slang seemed so alien, so exotic.

“Goodness!” Africa stammered with unhinged bewilderment in reaction to Tesande’s experiences. She was astonished to say the least; and fascinated beyond belief. Having spent her youth across table cliff-tops above the ocean, the youthful mare was not unfamiliar with the taste of salt and the sourness therein. She screwed her nose up sympathetically, not for one second envying the horrid stomach ache which poor Tesande had endured. “How awful for you.” She breathed, glancing to the side to express her commiseration personally. Then smiling, she added- “But I suppose it was a small price to pay for the meeting of dolphins.” Truly, Africa had no clue what a dolphin was, but she played along amiably with some demented illusion of a family of small winged fish in her mind.

“I could get use ta this…” Tesande mumbled quietly, and even if it had been for Africa’s benefit, the eager young creature was already frothing at the opportunity to tell one of her own- not so extravagant, stories. As she began, they crossed through the dwindling tree line into a clearing that appeared to stretch downwards into a lush, secluded valley. The area was aside from the main Threshold thoroughfare and Africa new with confidence that others seldom ventured this far from where travellers were shepherded like cattle into Helovia.

Naturally, the most interesting and worthwhile tale she could think of was her adventure with Voodoo. “Once...” She began perhaps a little to eagerly and paused again just as suddenly to take the breath that she had forgotten about beforehand in her sheer eagerness, “I ventured beyond the wall of the Throat and found a pit of fire. It was awfully beautiful and I couldn’t help but wander close to see.” She stopped and frowned, perhaps reliving the moments with renewed vigour. “Next thin’ I knew, I was bein’ chased by a horse with a horn!” Tesande’s accent was infectious, and subconsciously Africa began to adopt the more simple aspects of it. “Anyway, I ran away frightened and he caught me just as the heat became unbearable- smoke was chokin’ the air from our lungs! He led me to safety can you believe?”

She sighed with relief, just as sweat began to bead across her fraught bowline.

“But! Then we were chased by dogs, soldiers made from the same flames we had just avoided and they forced us out onto the eastern cliffs. We found a narrow ledge juttin’ out from the rock that lowered into a cavern beneath the earth, and hid there until the danger had passed.” Africa had blurted the turn of events with such animation that she needed a second to recover both her breath and her nerves. “We found treasure down there too,” she added whispering and glancing in mock suspicion around them. “I have it at home, want to see?”

Even if the events had been mostly imaginary, the story was quite credible, and Africa was none the wiser of her near death experience’s realism. The grey stopped then, and lowered her thin black lips towards the frosted grass. Twitching them ever so gently, her hot breath thawed away the ice casing to reveal the most tiny, splendid purple flower. Naturally, it was far too delicate to be picked but Africa thought it to be even better than those which they might have been able to carry home.

Wearied, but not wasted by the thrill of both her own tale and that of the appaloosa Pegasus’s, Africa fought back a hefty yawn. Had her ashen tapering nose not been so long, the smile which grew across her dainty expression could easily have reached from one black-rimmed ear to the other. Although she remained caught in reflective silence, a scramble of thoughts and questions bubbled across her impatiently lolling tongue. The young grey was fascinated by her well-travelled friend, and could not rip her focus; her brightly sparkling gaze, from Tesande’s waiting face.

For now flowers and such beauty was forgotten as excitement built curiously around the prospect of Africa’s hidden treasure. She was both trusting and gullible, and both qualities frothed like river rapids throughout her young feminine demeanour. She never imagined for a second that another soul might hunger for the gem, and her new friend certainly did not emit any such latent cunningness. “You ready lassy?” Tesande asked with sudden courtesy that caused Africa’s easy mirth to waver. She felt as she watched, that the other mare was shrouded in marvellous mystery, she was exotic and she was seasoned; the grey was childishly attracted to the strange, almost alien grace which hovered as an untouchable aura about them.

“Yessss!” Africa replied, beaming, her long lean legs bounced playfully where she still stood. “It should take no time at all, because we can both ride the wind,” she mentioned quietly, though aloud as a personal afterthought. Tesande’s wings were already spreading, extensively; they were enormous she thought taken aback, but was not unsettled at all. There were a few whose glorious wing-span took her breath away, and Africa would always lust adoringly over them, because her own adornment was not nearly so luxurious- only well proportioned.

“Ok, let’s go!” She called out cheerfully to her company as she too unfurled the mass of her black tipped, dreary grey feathers. The breeze billowed softly around them, but created enough of an updraft to collect beneath and lift her open wings, striding only a feet forward, Africa clenched across her burly hindquarters and launched herself upwards. Between powerful thrusts, the young mare leaned left until she was guiding them as directly south as possible.