Maybe it was the sound of the tide lapping against the coast. Maybe it was her blubbering, or the rapid pound of her pulse in her ribcage. Maybe it was the pace of her own troubled thoughts, whirling through her at a thousand miles a minute - whatever it was, Kore was not paying attention to her surroundings, and when a low nicker cut like a sharp knife through the fog around her head, she whipped around to face the source of it with a start, her dark eyes glittering with unshed tears.

Standing before her, as if conjured from thin air, was a stallion - tall, taller than she’d ever seen, with a form so strong it rivaled even the likes of Hephaestus. The pale light of the moon washed over his shadowy figure so that he looked almost blue, golden eyes stark against the darkness enveloping the rest of him. Kore knew she should have been afraid, should have turned and ran back to the safety of the oasis, calling for Maslakhat as she went… but something in his expression stopped her. His gaze did not roam hungrily over her curves, as Ak Burun’s had, and though she could see the concern in his expression, he maintained a respectful distance, even though they both knew he probably could’ve stolen everything he wanted and then some.

Kore gave one last sniffle, shaking the tears from her eyes and trying to collect herself. Stupid little girl. How could she let someone see her like this? As if everyone didn’t already think of her as some naive, sheltered child. Now this stranger would, too. Inside, the mare kicked herself for her impulsive display of weakness. What had Demeter said about stallions? All they did was take and take and take, with no forethought or concern for the lives they ruined in the process, and here she was, willingly putting her vulnerability out for the whole world to see.

She was so preoccupied with his perception of her that she didn’t even notice the damp still clinging to his coat or the foreignness of his scent. Kore took a step towards him, then another, tilting her delicate face up to meet his gaze with her own. Fine droplets of water still clung to her dark lashes, and her heart fluttered against the confines of her chest with anxiety. “Please,” she said, her high voice laden with pleading. “Please don’t tell Maslakhat you saw me like this.” She couldn’t bear the thought of the golden bay knowing her frailty. She had been here barely a season, but she knew the Dunes were a place for the strong, both of body and mind. At that moment, she felt anything but.

“He’ll make me leave if he finds out.”