Larka has never loved another like the love she felt for Tiberius. Despite his disappearance and the fall of Roma, still the hansom russet stallion haunted her mind and kept company in her dreams. He was the keeper of her heart and only in his presence had she truly felt happy and content. Shezira had been his downfall. Of course it hadn't helped that Bastille had stolen her away before the other bastards took advantage of Tiberius and taken his lands... however it had not stopped her undying devotion to keeping apart of the stallion close to her. That dream had died however when the foals she had conceived shortly before the winged stallion's disappearance were born in a tangle of misshapen legs and deformed, broken bodies. The sight of those foals had truly broken her, mind, heart and spirit. Bastille had been there, flaunting the death of the foals and blaming the sire for their misshapen bodies... apart of her wanted to rip his throat out for speaking such things about Tiberius, but she could not find it in her to rise against him.

Since then, she had followed him like a meek lamb, tossing snide comments to him every chance she got but the dappled chocolate stallion was relentless in his pursuit. Never did she get the opportunity to slink away on her own. He kept her close to his side and wherever she strayed, he was not long behind. Instead of the chipped porcelain menagerie piece she tended to view herself as, he treated her like some prized possession that he longed to keep away from the other men. He had taken her in spring, and Larka did not find the will in her body to object. Time and time again he had savored his release and it did not take long until her sides had swelled with the unborn life within. She had hoped that this child would be stillborn like the twins she had borne of Tiberius. She had grown used to Bastille's presence, but none of her actions could ever be mistaken for affection or adoration.

He had left her in the shadows of the forest as he left once more in search of a new place for them to reside. It seemed that he himself had no desire to be the leader of a land but instead settle as a second for another. Simply a place to gather his belongings she had often thought. None the less it was during this time that she had given birth. It had not been as long and drawn out a process nor nearly as tiring as birthing the stillborn twins had been. But regardless, the child had survived. She was a pretty little thing, pale like Larka with a silvery white mane where Larka's was the deepest obsidian. She had been quick to stand and nurse dispite the winged woman's lack of interest, the filly had grown on her. She named her Valerian after the sweet scented flowers that bloomed so fragrant in the spring months. The child grew quickly, light on her feet and surefooted as though she had her own set of invisible wings. Larka kept her separate, kept her secret and avoided the open. Despite Bastille's once constant presence, he too seemed to disappear after the swelling of her barrel was evident that a child grew within. He had led her into the Dale, sure that the muscular stallion there would offer them shelter once Bastille made it clear that he had no intentions of stealing his herd or land... but he had not come back to fetch her.

Once she was sure that Valerian was old enough, and stable enough on her feet that should the need arise, the child could flee, Larka went in search of the chocolate dragga. Deep sapphire eyes scanned the lands before her as the silver white feathers of her wings ruffle against her lithe silver sides. She had been afraid once, afraid of newcomers. Afraid of unfamiliar stallions and their testosterone driven desires to claim her as their own... but no longer. Long obsidian tresses cascade in twisting, tumbling rivulets down her sleek arching neck. Paper thin nostrils flare as she inhales the many scents of the lands, searching for the familiar scent of Bastille. She can feel Valerian pressing herself excitedly against her side, a tiny silver shadow of moonlight next to her own. "Soon.." she murmurs to the filly... soon there would be another... if there was one thing that Larka has learned over the years its that never is she left alone for very long.