Khoshekh does not halt when Fell does a few strides away from Charmeine and Parisa. The black colt, at this point just a hair taller than his father, lopes past the Marwari stallion and greets Charmeine and his half-sister with a friendly whicker. Parisa rocks back from her first attempt to rise before a successful second try, and Kho lips a bit of sand off her back. “What happened to you?” he teases, scanning her quickly for injuries, despite his certainty that Charmeine has already done just that.

When the smoky black filly catches sight of the ocean, Kho shoots a glance at Charmeine, one eyebrow raised. He is almost impressed by Parisa’s allure to things that will get her into trouble. At the pale filly’s uncertainty and Parisa’s resulting plea, Khoshekh looks over his shoulder at Fell. The Bay stallion only watches them, close enough to hear, but far enough away that it is clear he will not be stopping any of their mischief. He turns back to Charmeine with a determined grin. “Ah, we can get a little closer,” he says, a mischievous grin dawning on his dark, chiseled face. Part of him wants to impress his father by keeping the pair safe even within the grasp of danger, but more of him - most of him, really - wants to impress Charmeine for the same reasons. Khoshekh is usually level headed, and he knows Charmeine tends to be the same way, but something about the ivory filly makes him want to get into just a little bit of trouble.

Khoshekh trots around Parisa, his neck arching proudly as he thinks about rescuing her from a rogue wave or something equally as heroic. She wouldn’t need it, but it’s nice to think about anyway. “We can look at shells or something. I’ll keep you safe,” he promises, giving the spotted ivory filly a playful shove. “Or, actually I think Parisa will keep us safe. She’s definitely the toughest of the three of us.”