Khoshekh has only once been away from the Bay, when he snuck to the Crossing for a day adventure as a colt. There had been open areas there, the Meadow being a far larger expanse of treeless land than he had seen in the Bay so far, but even so, he could always see the forest on all sides. He has heard little about the other islands, and had Amaris told him about the exposed earth of the Badlands, vulnerable to the sun without the shade of many (or any) trees, he would have both struggled to visualize it and better understood why she seemed to cling to him in the shadowed forest of the Bay. However, Amaris is understandably not very chatty about her home at this time, so Khoshekh is left bewildered but accepting of her closeness to him as they walk.

When they arrive at the mouth of the stone depression, Kho is pleasantly surprised when the palomino mare makes her way into the humid shelter. She dismisses his offers to leave her alone, and even asks him to stay in the springs with her, prompting Khoshekh to cock his head curiously to the side. “I’ll stay,” he reassures her. He takes notice of the change in her demeanor, but he isn’t quite clever enough to puzzle out what it means, so he makes no mention of it. He feels the need to be careful with her, not because he is afraid of angering her or risking her wrath, but because gentleness is in his nature. His mother is a caretaker, and Khoshekh finds that he has inherited many of her nurturing traits, and is far less rough and ferocious than his father. Perhaps there is violence within him, as well, but it is deep down, and dormant, and it troubles him not.

He lets his gaze linger on the palomino mare for a moment, thinking, but he looks away shortly, before the length of time can grow impolite. He ducks his head peacably, then moves toward the edge of the spring and steps into the steaming water. Being so accustomed to the cold climate of the Bay, it is nearly uncomfortably warm for him, so he stands with his front legs submerged to his knees. The mineral scent of the water triggers a memory of a warning that he had quite forgotten, or had committed to common sense. “Oh, I should mention, don’t drink this water. I have no idea if it’s unsafe, but my mother always told me it was better not to find out the hard way.” He lifts his head to a weak trickle of water that runs down the stones and feeds into the spring. “That water is snowmelt, though, and safe to drink if you’re thirsty. It’s just the spring water that’s questionable. It comes from so deep in the earth, there’s just no telling what’s in it, you know?”

Khoshekh realizes he’s rambling, and he abruptly shuts up, worried that he’ll overwhelm the golden mare with information. He gives her an apologetic smile. “You must have gotten whiplash,” he jokes, “going from Fell to me.” He gives a dry chuckle, his face turning more somber. “I’m sorry, by the way. I don’t understand why he’s like that. I wish I could ask him.”

stallion | raven black | 16.1hh | Fell x Kohelet