Hawke rides through the forest on his big, beautiful Friesian stallion, Diaval, the rain beating down on them. His soaked black hair dripping water down his face. He calls your name, scanning the woods around him for any sign of you. You hear him, and you call to him. In a moment he sees you, leaning against a tree, sitting on the ground shivering, soaked from head to toe. Sariyah! What are you doing out here? Hawke asks, dismounting his horse and running over to you
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