This was her favorite time of the year.

In all her years of living on the islands, there were very few moments that truly brought her great peace. The first time she had seen such an event, she had been left breathless in awe. Such vibrant colors and intoxicating fragrances were short-lived and did not happen every summer, but it was still worth it when it did. She would not dare to miss it.

Age has taken its toll upon the silverling mare. Where once her body awoke energized and ready to take on each morning with excitement, now she finds herself strained and stiff. Arthritis has a weird way of taking effect of her heels and causing her movements to grow painfully slow. Her time was growing shorter on this earth, even if she was not ready to truly admit it aloud. But she has not missed the blooming of the flowers since Shamwari first brought her to such an event and she will not miss it now.

She awakens early, nuzzling Catori gently in reassurance. What fear she held for the girl’s awkward long limbs had not lived long. Age and Larka’s constant training had taken the stiff limp from her front leg and now the golden girl moved with the effortless grace her mother once possessed. Yet even with age, the girl still remained fiercely close to her mother and for that, Larka is grateful. Catori’s warm back was a comfort on the nights when Zevulun found himself too occupied with the other members of their large herd. Larka never could blame him for that. She was not his first love nor did she imagine herself his last just as her heart too had once belonged to Shamwari and Balor. It was their way of life and she was content in that.

Catori mumbled an unintelligible response to the touch of her mother and curled tighter into herself. Larka merely smiles and exhales a gentle breath into her daughter’s dark mane before hobbling stiffly towards the hillside to get a better view of the long awaited event. To her surprise however, she is not alone in her excitement.

A tender grin spreads across her graying lips as silver blue eyes fall on the pale form of Zevulun, his youngest child and a brightly spotted companion. Dark lashes blink slowly as a gentle chuckle rumbles from her lungs. Slowly, she navigates the gentle incline. ”I see I am not alone at least in admiring the beautiful scene the gods have gifted us with.” she purrs, glancing at the child and unfamiliar mare in greeting before turning her tender gaze to Zev. ”I am glad.”she finishes, turning her gaze to the brightly colored hills that lay before them. Years ago, this morning would find her rushing down the hill to chase the winds and savor each distinct fragrance the flowers had to offer. She would laugh and kick her heels before rolling energetically in hopes of staining her own scent with the flavors for seasons to come.

Those days might be far behind her, but at least, as she gazes out at the brightly colored flowers, she can imagine the days when she had… and the days when Shamwari, Sanibel, and Darshan had all raced through the fields alongside her.