The water of the oasis smells acrid, almost like sulfur or rotten eggs, and beneath the beating sun it is hardly any cooler than the air in Hasan's lungs, but nonetheless it's a relief to feel it slaking his raw throat. He drinks deeply, almost until his belly hurts, and when he lifts his dripping muzzle from the surface he is almost panting from exertion. For a moment his head swims, and he subtly locks his white knees to stop himself from keeling over. The last thing he wants to do is collapse in front of strangers, let alone strangers that could still prove to be unfriendly.

When the episode has passed, Hasan lifts his head a little, angling it to peek once more at the modest-sized herd gathered a short distance away. He wonders if its size is a reflection of Asmodeus's capabilities or preferences, or whether this barren landscape simply cannot support sprawling herds the size Hasan has seen on the mainland.

He mulls over the stallion's question for a moment. His tongue feels thick in his mouth, and graphic mental images of his mother threaten to derail his composure. Should he be completely honest?

He refrains from making eye contact as he finally speaks, his voice still low and croaky but at least audible now. "My family lived here, once upon a time. It was my mother's last wish that I see it at least once."

A half-truth. Asmodeus does not need to know about Evren's grand dreams for her son's future—dreams that Hasan has never been sure he wants for himself—or the fact that her body lies decomposing on his border. Hasan shakes his head to relieve a sudden shiver of revulsion down his spine.

"Forgive me, but I wasn't prepared for… what it's like here. I'm lucky I stumbled upon you when I did." Finally he looks Asmodeus in the eye. "How long have you made your home here?"