Larka worried about the odd stuttering walk that her daughter exhibited as she stumbled forward to press herself closer to the familiar warmth of the silver mare’s belly. Ashen lips press together firmly as she again tries to reassure herself that it was merely the girl trying to work out her long legs and uncramp herself after twelve long months in the confines of her mother’s belly. Larka was on the smaller side of growth anyway, surely the child just needed time to adjust. Time. The turmoil of her own thoughts however, is broken by the deep throaty nicker of a familiar voice.

Raven tipped ears tilt forward amid the swirls of her obsidian mane as Larka lifts her finely dished head towards the sound of the familiar voice. Like an angel of mercy, Zevulun appears, closing the gap between them at a slower pace so as not to startle her nor their newborn daughter. A flood of warmth fills her chilled heart as her own lips part to release a melodious response, her silver blue eyes bright with affection. ”Zevulun…” she murmurs, as he reaches his pale muzzle towards her own. Deeply she inhales his familiar scent, allowing herself to rememorize the smell of the Prairie that forever clung to him. He murmurs her name, the last syllable rolling off his tongue much easier now than it had the first day they met. His pale eyes turn towards the daughter at her belly and she takes a step closer to him to give him a better view of the beautiful buckskin filly at her side. Pride glows within her at the sight of those faint white splotches that no doubt would one day shine a vivid contrast to the pale cream of her baby coat. ’She’s beautiful.’ the reassurance even more meaningful when it comes from one so dearly loved himself. ”She is isn’t she.” she murmurs with a weary sigh. Bringing children into the world was no task for the faint of heart and Larka was becoming all too aware of her own mortality as the years passed.

He glances up at her now, concern evident in his blue green eyes. ’You okay?’ even a mind reader could not miss the worry he held there for not just her physical appearance, but mentally as well. Though Darshan’s death had ripped her heart to tatters, Zevulun had not escaped unscathed himself. Tenderly she presses her small ashen muzzle into the silken hairs of his cheek. ”I will be fine. Tired is all….” she murmurs, letting her voice trail off as though hoping to reassure herself of the very words she speaks. It was only exhaustion that had her so worried. Exhaustion and nothing more.

Breathing in another deep breath of his scent, Larka draws back enough to let her silver blue gaze meet his. ”I named her Catori… after Darshan’s spirit.” she murmurs the lump once more rising in her throat as she speaks the deceased mare’s name aloud. She blinks back the unshed tears, willing them away from this happy occasion. ”...is that okay?” she asks, hoping that he would not take any offense to not having been a part of the naming process. Really it had only come to her only recently but somehow she felt that it fit the filly perfectly.

The small tawny filly stomps her hoof awkwardly in protest as Larka draws away, taking the milk filled nipple right out of her mouth. Large ears flop forward as she blinks her bright sapphire eyes against the dazzling sunlight. Not one large mass, now two! She snorts hard in surprise, a motion that almost sends her toppling once more to the soft bed of grass beneath them. Her fuzzy black tail flicks excitedly back and forth against her white splashed hips as she takes a stammering step closer to the familiar milky scent of mother’s ivory belly. Only securely touching the pale mare, does she risk a gaze up again. There is no fear that she can detect in the alabaster mare, nothing short of warmth and love as she tenderly touches the stranger with gentle strokes that remind her of how mother had tenderly embraced her. Curiosity rises now as she takes a cautious, stiff legged step forward, her small neck arching out towards the stranger to inhale his strangely familiar yet different scent.

Larka beams down at their daughter, stifling the chuckle that threatens to break the seriousness of the moment for the little filly. She glances towards Zevulun with a smile. ”She takes after you already.” she teases affectionately.