She could not explain it, but suddenly she felt like a new creature, as though finally the ugly duckling had been able to shed its ugly gray feathers to reveal the beautiful, graceful creature beneath. She had left the Forbidden Dale when the ground began to quake... all of them had... even the filly Bastille had made sure she carried in her womb fled and for the life of her Larka could not figure out where. She hoped that the child was wise enough not to run into the mists and curling white fogs that enveloped what had once been the lands of Mist Meadows... perhaps that was part of the reason why she had gone to the Natural Bridge, hoping that the child had remained.... at least that is what she told herself anyway.

She had been a poor mother to the girl. While she did her duty of nursing and guiding the child to the best of her abilities, Larka could not really break herself down to say that she had loved the child... it had been too soon.

None the less, her conversation with Thunderbolt at the strange rock formation had led her to a whole new realization. It was gone... all of it. Her hateful white witch of a mother.... the vengeful Shezira.... Roma... Tiberius... all the memories and familiar places were gone... all save the Forbidden Dale. In essence.... she was freed. He had not hunted her down as he had sworn he would forever do... for all she knew, the chocolate stallion Bastille too had been swallowed up by the mists.

On that note she had felt the closest thing to regret that she had ever come. Despite her outward display of displeasure at his nearness or her once melancholy groaning at his continued desire to be near her... above her... she had actually grown quite used to him... perhaps even feel something in her heart for him. She stops now, her proud arabic head lifted as a harsh snort escapes her paperthin nostrils. No, she would not go so far as to suggest love... affection maybe... but even that was a stretch.

Her great silver white feathers are stretched out from her sides as the pale silverling lets herself relish the rare day of sunlight and the warmth offered by its rays. Winters here were not overly harsh, but it was still far from the desert dunes of Roma.

A flash of copper catches her eye as the small form of a filly moves into the open. She watches with mild fascination as the small girl pauses to drink from the frozen river edge. Were she older and no doubt a bit wiser, she would have stepped into the frigid water to sample the cold rushing waters free of stagnant dirt and grim... but she is young. Larka starts to approach her when the child freezes, her eyes focused beneath a nearby tree...

That is when the winds bring to her his scent. A single brow arches skyward as her silver blue eyes fall upon his round napping form. He seems to have gotten quite fat and lazy over the past few months for he lounges without a car or concern. Tiny, silver ears bury themselves beneath the thick mantle of her curling black mane as the lithe woman steps towards him at a proud, haughty pace. "Pathetic..." she hisses, her elegantly dished facade raised high as her long dark banner flicks slowly over the supple curve of her womanly hips as stops before him. Silver blue eyes gaze down upon him with a fierce iciness as a coy smirk plays across the beautiful ash dusted features of her face. "Bastille... you grow fat. Be careful lest you too wind up with moss like the rocks and boulders." she snips cooly, settling her wings casually across the gentle curve of her spine once more. A part of her felt wounded that here he was napping beneath a tree instead of out on his diligent search for her.... another part, the more prominent creature as of late, enjoyed hitting him with harsh words... he had claimed her his after all... his seed had been sewn into her womb, his teeth and hooves had marred her flawless silver hide... so why should she not let the rolls play in reverse for awhile.

For the moment, the young copper colored girl is forgotten, her presence nothing more than a distant memory in her mind... but oh how sweet it felt to demean the stallion in front of another... too long she had taken the beatings... the harsh words... the need of stallions who lusted to possess her... not anymore.