Maslakhat’s eyes burn through her skin like hot irons. Shame blooms deep within her breast, settling comfortably, as it’s always done, and she cannot tell if it’s that or the cold of the night that shoots like icicles down the lengths of her slim legs. Whatever it is she’s tried here, it hasn’t worked. She should have known better - she’s always been a terrible liar, wearing her emotions like a banner for everyone to see, and she can surmise from the measured calm of Maslakhat’s expression that her feeble attempts simply cannot compare. This feels like trying to pick a fight with Aries for how little she is qualified for it. Kore hesitates, tear-studded eyes flicking - just briefly - from the golden ‘Teke to Aidoneus’ wide, calm face. She doesn’t want to go, doesn’t want to leave either of them alone on the beach, doesn’t know what will happen after she leaves… but what else can she do? The mare feels, however erroneously, powerless to stop or change any aspect of it. She takes a breath, so shaky with nerves that it’s nearly a gasp, and without another word, Kore turns and bolts back inland, stopping only once to look back and drink in the sight of the tall, dark stranger one last time.

For a few minutes the bay just runs, no destination in mind. Her tail streams behind her, glinting in the light of the moon still arching high above, and the sound of the rush of the wind blowing past her face and the muffled beat of her steps are the only things she can hear. Soon, however, she can feel her body angling its way towards a specific spot, as if guided by muscle memory. Kore lets her legs carry her, her thoughts a million miles away, until, panting for air and screaming with exertion, her body stops. The ghost of Maslakhat’s scent lingers here, bringing her out of her reverie, and she finds herself perched at the top of a tall dune, his favorite vantage point. All of Salem spreads in rolling blue-tinged waves beneath her. The moon has lowered some since she first fled, but if she squints, she can pick out the beach. Empty. Kore’s ears press against her skull, her heart sinking with dismay. Where had Aidoneus gone? Did he leave the beach and head back for the Crossing, as he was told? Or did he sneak off to another part of Salem, there to remain unnoticed, waiting for her? Why does her heart pound even harder at that possibility?

Wind pushes her forelock out of her face. She snorts, anguish mixing now with irritation at herself. “Stupid village girl,” she mutters, gaze drifting down to the sand at her hooves. What was she thinking? For all the beauty everyone told her she possessed, it still wasn’t enough to make Maslakhat notice her, or to bring her anything more than mindless infatuation from stallions. She should know by now that all men wanted was to possess her, to hoard her like a little jewel in a tightly-locked box and keep her from prying eyes. Why would Aidoneus be any different? She remembers his promise. Always, he’d vowed, and true to his word, he had kept it. Why, then, did you run? Why didn’t you stake your claim to freedom there, on the beach? The voice of her self-doubt rings loud in her ears, and sand sprays out in a wide arc as she raises one dark leg and stomps it down. If you were as strong as you claimed to be, you’d have let him take you away without another word.

Anger flashes within her. Kore blows hot air out of her flared nostrils, and the wind shifts, pulling the fine threads of her mane and tail forward so that they dance feather-light over her skin. “Shut up,” she hisses to empty air, her lilting voice laced with venom. The high-strung Arabian has had enough disparagement from others tonight; she will not hear any more, even if it comes from within. “Shut UP!”

Without even noticing, her whispers have become roars. The sound of her own words ringing in wide echoes over the sand before her breaks her out of her own mind, and the gasps coming from her lungs have changed from ones of exertion to that of boiling rage. Kore stands for a second, quiet as a mouse with eyes as wide as saucers, and wheels around to make her way down the slope - nearly running into the sleek form of Maslakhat, coming up the dune towards her, his scent carried so strongly on the breath of the wind that she cannot believe she hasn’t picked up on it sooner.

Kore freezes. She would love nothing more than to bolt past him, but she’s too drained to entertain that idea for more than a second, and anyway, she can’t avoid him forever. There are only so many places in this rolling sea of goddamned sand in which to conceal herself, and if her upbringing under Demeter is any indication, his ire will only increase the longer she waits to answer it. She watches him, eyes narrowed, as he comes to her, and the banked coals of her annoyance warm to crackling embers. For a second, everything’s silent. Kore glares, a scowl darkening her youthful features. “Well?” she finally blurts, her tone icy. “Go on, then, and let me have it!” Her tail lashes against the smooth flesh of her hindquarters, white flashing against blue-lit darkness, and her ears press back, as if trying not to catch the scolding that is sure to come. The sooner he opens his stupid mouth, the sooner it’ll be over with, and she can retreat to her little spot amongst the palm fronds and lick her wounds in peace. She doesn’t want this, doesn’t want to hear what he has to say, doesn’t want to listen or pay attention or even be standing here, at this moment, with charged energy crackling like lightning between them, but even if she has to endure it, she doesn’t have to pretend to enjoy it.