It was as he’d feared; ‘Not too long ago.’ It was no doubt why word hadn’t reached them yet, on top of the herd here likely having their own concerns to deal with. If only…

Khan didn’t realise he’d been holding his breath while waiting for the answer, nodding mutely, until something particular Jasper said needled at his heart, and he parted his dry lips, voice cracking anew with grief, five words tumbling out before he could stop them. “I already have a sister.” The bluntness of his interruption made the silence pound so loudly in his ears, even as blood rushed to his head while he struggled with what this revelation had meant. Darshan had once told him that the three foals she’d borne before him had been very difficult, and that each one had taken a progressively heavier toll on her. It was why she had deserted the Prairie in the first place because she wanted more, and feared that if she had another, it would be the end of her.

So how could she… How could she have been so careless?

But how… How could Khan judge her? If not for her running away and happening upon the stallion who was his father, Khan would never have been born. And wasn’t he supposed to be happy, that this new sister of his had survived what Darshan could not? His broken heart twinged inside his chest, and Khan hastily tried to save face - because for reasons he couldn’t explain, he realised that what Jasper thought of him was something that mattered.

“I mean, back where I came from. My home.” Arsinoe. He missed her so much, even though he’d not even been gone for a day, and there were times that they’d been apart for longer, when Rafe was busy and Arsinoe was helping look after the rest of the herd, or she’d joined him on journeying around the Badlands and Khan had busied himself exploring the winding canyons. It also occurred to the overo boy that he had another sister here too. Darshan had named her after a star.

“Maybe I could meet her?” Khan offered, almost apologetically. “The filly, and… and Sitara.” But the thing was, would she want to meet him? On top of everything else, the idea of facing relative strangers made Khan’s heart quiver anxiously in his chest. “But not…” Not now. Not today. Maybe not for quite some time.

He lapsed into silence then, his gaze dipping momentarily, but then returning to Jasper when the other colt continued his recount. It helped, just the tiniest bit, knowing that she hadn’t suffered long. But just when he thought his eyes would finally dry, he learned of Jasper’s role - how he’d raced to find the ones Darshan wanted and led them back to her side. How his heart burned in his chest with sudden and fierce affection for this boy he hardly knew. Khan determined that he knew enough, though, but what he’d heard from Jasper’s own lips, and had determined by the golden boy’s actions.

Even as his vision blurred, Khan knew for certain that in the days to come, once he’d returned to the Badlands, he’d think often of the kindness and courage this boy of the Prairie carried in his heart. And would remember him, as he was now, picture his face all soft and sad, with his sky blue eyes clouding with tears of deep sympathy.

There was too much sorrow. What Khan would’ve given to meet Jasper under different circumstances, so the both of them would be free from this wearying weight, and maybe the buckskin boy might have said something funny, just so he could see a smile unfurl across Jasper’s pale lips.

‘You’re welcome, Khan.’

The sound of his name in the other boy’s mouth broke the stillness and silence that had taken hold of Khan, and he found himself taking a step toward Jasper, before hesitating, uncertain of what his intention had been in beginning to close the small distance between them. Thankfully, Jasper spoke up again, and Khan nodded, perhaps a little too eagerly. He hadn’t realised how thirsty he was until Jasper had mentioned it. Not only did his lips feel parched from the sea, but his throat felt raw, and his mouth too dry. Fresh water would bring him much relief, he thought.

“I’ve never seen a river before,” he mused aloud, and a moment later, a flicker of sheepishness crossed his face. It probably sounded like a silly thing to say, but for a boy who’d grown up in the dustbowl of Salem, water was precious, and didn’t run across the land. It hid itself away in the most unexpected of places, tucked in the Dune valleys, shimmering like a mirage in a land that seemed lifeless, welling up through cracks in the earth, forming tiny little pools in the caverns of his father’s canyonlands. The only time Khan had seen running water was when the rains fell upon the rock of the Badlands (and then, more often than not, it barely stayed long enough to do anything more than damp the air smell damp and fresh, for the heat and the wind and the thirsty earth drank it all up), and when he’d stopped to drink from a stream that fed the Meadow, when Darshan —

“Jasper, do you – ” Khan found himself saying, the words catching as his throat tightened, desperate to distract himself. Better not to dwell on memories, and instead, focus on what was unknown to him, and the things he wished to come to know. Do you go there a lot? Do you think anyone else will be there? Do you have to be somewhere else, or can you… can you stay with me a little longer? But instead, once they started moving, Khan trailing close behind Jasper, he found himself asking something else entirely, something that didn’t reach quite so deep. Maybe later, if there was time, he could ask one of those other questions, the answers of which he really wanted to know. “Do you have any sisters?”