In the days and weeks since Darshan’s passing, Larka has felt more lost than she ever cared to admit. Despite the many deaths she has faced in her life, the void left in Darshan’s wake feels almost beyond measurable. Finding Sanibel’s lifeless body had been sobering, but at least she had known what to expect the day she set out alone in search of the missing golden mare. Shamwari’s departure had been far more unexpected but no less gut wrenching, most of her life had revolved around rekindling the fires that had long before burned so brightly in her youth. The chestnut stallion had freed her from the chaos of Liland and blanketed her beneath the shield of his protection. The day that she had been forced to say goodbye to him and to Castiel and Jabari had been hard on them all.

Yet despite the loss, it was Darshan that kept her together. The golden woman had claimed again and again that it was Larka who pulled her from the abyss but the silverling mare knew the truth. Deep down, it was Darshan that had kept her from leaping into the oblivion of despair. Together, they lived on for those that had been lost and for those that still needed their guidance and mothering. Together they had made a new start with Balor and although Larka had been reluctant to trust the painted stallion, in the end even he had touched her heart in a way that Larka was sure would only be held by Shamwari.

Balor’s death had marked a change in the dynamics of her relationship with Darshan. Once she used to find herself relying fully on the golden woman as she had always done as both her leader and friend. The golden mare’s disappearance and Balor’s determination to settle Larka’s anxious mind had led to his death, regardless of what Zevulun tried to assure her. For the first time, Larka found herself blaming herself and cursing Darshan. Had she never left the silverling mare would never have worried for her. Her worry would never have led her to confess to Balor of her anxiety and likewise he would not have tried so hard to find her so soon after his return. He had been in no shape to travel and if Larka had only pushed harder perhaps he would still be alive now. Yet even in her anger at Darshan’s return after seasons absent, still Larka could not bring herself to hold any type of animosity towards the golden mare. It had been subtle at first, but Larka began to recognize the change between them. Where once Darshan had led, in the months leading to Darshan’s demise, it was Larka that guided her to the best grazing and offered gentle reassurances.

Despite all of that, Larka continued on. Wounded and tattered, still she held her head high and looked to the heavens where she felt assured that somewhere the ones she had lost, gazed down upon her. It was foolish to imagine the stars as their bright eyes shining with pride but that did not stop her from sharing the stories with Falkor, Orion, Cassiah, and Sitara. If nothing else, she hoped that it would blanket them in the same reassurances that she herself sought.

Darshan was different. The mournful sorrow that had fallen from her lips the moment the golden mare fell still was no doubt heard throughout Luthien. For hours after her passing, Larka could not dare to part with her, even when the beautiful mare’s body had begun to grow cold and stiff. It was only when the distant yipping coyotes began to close in did she finally allow Zevulun to lead her away but not before he managed to assure her that he would see her buried beneath the stars that she loved so much. Listlessly, she watched as the stallions dug the pale mare’s grave. Silently she sobbed as tenderly Darshan was pushed into her final resting place beneath the very earth that she loved so much. Tears leave permanent pathways down the sharp curves of her cheek. Grass lost its sweet flavor. The slow moving river no longer able to quench her thirst, even the gentle zephyrs seemed to blow anew with a cold breeze that Larka had never before noticed. The prairie had become a stranger to her despite the family that lingers nearby with worried eyes.

As with the many days before it, Larka finds herself lingering near Darshan’s grave as dusk begins to settle on the Prairie. Pale silver blue eyes are damp with unshed tears as tenderly she traces the fresh turned dirt with her muzzle. ”I miss you.” she whispers, praying that despite the orange glow of sunset, somewhere high above Darshan could see her through the veiled stars. ”What am I now? What will I be without you?” she asks, blinking away the tears that cloud her eyes. Sitara and Cassiah seemed to sense the change in her, without having to ask they had taken Orion under their wings to allow her to grieve as she wished. Even Falkor chose to keep his distance though always he lingered just within earshot. Solitude seemed like the only friend Larka could see now.