Meadow

The moments after she calls to him, there in the moonlit clearing, stretch on for what feels like hours. Kore waits with bated breath, trembling - whether from the cold that bites at her smooth skin, or dread, or something else entirely, she’s not sure. She struggles to see between the trees, ears flicking to and fro… but when a voice - his voice - cuts smoothly through the darkness towards her, she cannot help but to feel somewhat at ease, even as her heart flutters like a bird against her chest. She doesn’t know Aidoneus, no more than anyone can know someone after only a few moments of fleeting, clandestine interaction, but he is no stranger to her. A stranger would have refused her, there, on the beach; They would have looked at her askance, of this she is sure, and ratted her out to Maslakhat. Who, after all, would believe a wild-eyed, frenzied village girl over the cool, collected stallion seemingly coming to her rescue? Who would take her seriously, heeding her words without telling her to just calm down and behave?

Only one, the one who comes now through the trees like a shadow made real, his eyes glowing fire-bright against the inky void of his coat. Her breath leaves her as she takes him in: The slow, fluid motions of his steps, the silvery scars criss-crossing over him that glint in the half-light, the snowflakes that fall down upon his massive form and twinkle like a million tiny stars as they melt away to nothing. She wants to step closer, to drown herself in the sharp, clean scent of him and forget everything, but she keeps her hooves planted firmly on the ground, stretching out her muzzle for a polite exchange of breaths. It would be improper, she knows, to go back to Salem covered in another stallion’s scent, and anyway, she tells herself, it’s not like she’s doing anything untoward by just being here. Maslakhat might not like her associating with Aidoneus, but what he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him, right? The Clydesdale’s appearance on the shores of the Dunes had raised so many questions in her mind, questions she needed the answer to. She had made the swim to the Crossing to find him - just to talk. There wasn’t anything wrong with just talking, right?

He speaks again. Kore pauses, unsure of how to answer. She couldn’t tell him the real reason she’d come, that thoughts of him had occupied nearly every second of her waking hours since their fateful meeting, that he’d opened her eyes to options she’d never even considered, shone a light on new paths she didn’t know existed. Surely someone like him wouldn’t have thought nearly as much of their meeting. Surely he has other things to take up his time, other mares, other places to be. “Oh!” she starts, meeting his eyes fleetingly before staring at the ground. “Well, um…” Mulling it over, the mare decides that simple is best.

“I-I needed a change of scenery,” she says, looking at him once more. “I didn’t expect it to be this different, though.” She laughs a bit, the sound jittery on her tongue, and an awkward half-smile tugs at her lips. Her expression falls, however, and her ears flick back at his mention of Maslakhat. Kore shakes her head, stomach turning, as she goes back to that night; She remembers all too clearly the heated words she’d thrown at the ‘Teke, the holes she’d tried to poke in his composure, the whitehot rage and ice-cold anguish and the brokenness she’d felt afterwards, raw and alone and utterly misunderstood. “No, you didn’t cause anything,” she answers now, her voice much more subdued than before. “The trouble was all my doing.”

Kore scuffs a small front hoof against the ground, lost in her own shame. A shiver seizes her right as he asks after her comfort, crawling down her spine in powerful tremors, and she shifts a bit from side to side, trying to keep warm. “A l-little,” she admits, half-smiling again through chattering teeth. “I g-guess I didn’t really c-consider that…” She snorts, another shudder running through her, and curls her head to her chest once more, trying to shield herself against the biting, frigid wind that rattles through the naked branches of the trees. “S-stupid girl,” she mutters under her breath. How could she have forgotten snow, and winter, and bitter cold? Didn’t she remember anything Demeter had told her about Olympus? She knew the mountains where the gods lived were different from the hot sands of Eleusis, but she’d thought it was mostly contained to the high-elevated peaks. She didn’t know the seasons would change so dramatically here, on the plains. When last she’d been on this island, it was Spring, with everything awash in shades of verdant green. How could she think that would have lasted all this time? Kore stands, thin-skinned and feeling more naive and clueless than ever, and wonders when, exactly, Aidoneus will realize that she is nothing more than an idiot and a child and leave her to freeze as she so rightly deserves.