Look down, the ground below is crumbling
Look up, the stars are all exploding
Silas was tense with his lavender eyes fixed carefully to the stranger, wide and unblinking. Africa squirmed slightly beneath the delicate clasp of his long, razor-like talons, and he adjusted his balance skillfully upon her with opened wings. A warning rumble, something alike to the throaty gargle of a raven, swept forward to meet the stallion as he neared, though already their company was slowing. The young brave Zephyr held the horse before them with tried patience, unwilling to risk his bonded’s vulnerability to ignorance and denigration again. The young dappled mare had not eaten for days following their meeting with a tactlessly opinionated colt, and his foul upstart sibling. Her condition had deteriorated during that time, and her vigour was lost.

The stallion sighed deeply, and she turned a pale eye to investigate as he issued another murmur of sorts. It was a tender sound that further dimmed the tension pinching her rough dappled hide. Africa was quite exhausted and her expression was fraught with helplessness. She was unwilling to care for the traitor she loathed so much, and as a result her posture had grown haggard and pathetic.

"My name is Lace, from World's Edge."

Africa’s ears twitched as the unfamiliar voice danced between them. It had been some time since she had allowed herself company; just recently her confidence had been soured, her compatibility challenged, and now suddenly the one-winged mare’s breath increased with the lifting pace of her heart. Quietly his gaze roved forward to find the nervous wander of her own, and when they met finally he added with sensitiveness she had not expected, "I won't hurt you, and if you want to I can be a friend. Do you have a name, child? What can I call you?" A sharp snort erupted as her velvety black nostrils flared.

Not long ago she had slept beneath the strange mists of his home. She had been nurtured by a white unicorn mare; her bones healed by another, hornless and slate grey- not dissimilar to Lace himself. His kin had cared for her with unwarranted warmth, and called themselves her friend. Africa remembered well that it was because of those who called the Edge home, that she had been freed from her prison cell, far to the north. Though her eyes dropped quickly away, a tingle of faith stirred in her stomach.

World’s Edge was a safe zone.

All at once she wanted to reveal the secret which split her mind. To shed the weight of guilt like a spineless coward, and repent. Her lips stiffened stubbornly though, and she fought away the surge of despondency when it threatened to betray her heart. I am Africa; I should be dead... "I’m nobody." She whispered at last through the clench of her teeth with downcast eyes. Silas purred quietly, offering what comfort to her he could, her unbridled emotion injecting the same agony into his loyal heart. Africa could betray neither the foolish quest of her herd-sister, nor the confidence of her gullible herd- it was only right that she protect both now, no matter the penalty on her soul.