"Maybe I'll ask Ilia."

Epona regarded him through the open window of her sunny stall with one half-lidded incredulous eye. The bard was calm with the munch and smack of horse lips as the seven boarding ponies, and his mare, enjoyed their evening meal. Link's faithful mare chewed her grains and listened to her owner with a practiced patience. Not everyone cared about Zelda's annual spring-fling dance.

"Don't look so amused," Link grumbled. "She's say yes.. It would be a pity date, but at least I'd have a date."

Epona snorted. Link threw a piece of hat at her and slouched further against the opposite wall.

"It doesn't matter. I've got week. Besides, I hate these stupid parties."

Epona tossed her mane and looked at him squarely. He sighed.

"I know. That's what I get when all my friends are girls."

Link picked at the fraying hem of his faded green flannel. He loved his friends, certainly, but of late he often found himself thinking it might be nice to know a few guys. Ones who were jealous of his casual friendship with Zelda, or his not-so-casual-and-more-physically-violent friendship with Malon, or even his strong bond with the lovely and soothing Ilia.

Perhaps if it was easier to be friends with men. It wasn't. For reasons.

Thud. Epona kicked the door of her stall. "You finished?" Link said, dragging himself to his feet and stomping the crusted manure from the bottom of his boots. "Let's go, then."

Lon Lon Ranch was the largest cattle farm in the Central Fields; more than three full size herds roamed the wide green pastures. Though there main products were the famously delicious Lon Lon Dairy, Talon also put aside a portion of his vast acreage to pasture horses, his daughter's love and passion. Link was blessed that they allowed him to board at half-price, knowing he was alone since his grandfather had passed away. It helped that he volunteered as a stable hand, and that horses listened to his touch like his fingers spoke their silent language.

They followed him now, as he whistled them out of their stalls and through the wide back doors. The smaller ponies waited and nickered for Epona, the queen of the herd, prancing on their dainty hooves as she ambled out into the afternoon sun. Link leaned against the door and dug a hand into his denim pocket. There was something so calming about the sight of horses.

Without his animal companions, Link was a silent man, finishing his barn tasks with a serene kind of stoicism. Bits of hay stuck out of his golden scruffy hair and wove through the broad shoulders of his shirt. He closed the stalls, flicked off the lights, breathing deeply of the heavenly scent of hay and oats and the apple tree just outside.

It wasn't until he began his trek back towards the main house that the pricks of remembrance tickled his brain. The sight of Zelda's blue convertible and Ilia's practical compact jarred his memory.

"Shit," he said, and broke into a jog.

The three girls waited for him in the yellow and blue tiled kitchen. Malon sat on the counter, her long legs stretching from beneath her cut offs. Zelda perched on a stool, legs crossed, her sandaled foot swaying idly as she clicked around on her expensive phone. Ilia stood by the sink, fiddling with her wooden necklace. She was the first to spot him; her long, kind face lighting up.

"Hi, Link," Ilia said, passing him a cold washcloth. He accepted it gratefully, dabbing the dust and sweat from his neck.

Malon glanced at the cow-shaped clock and clucked her tongue. "Cutting it close, cowboy."

"What do you mean?"

"Did you forget about our plans tonight?" she asked, dubious, eyes narrowed.

He paused. "We had plans?"

Zelda arched an eyebrow, glancing at him sideways through her white-blonde bangs. "Yes. My cousin is coming into town."

"Cousin?"

"Yes," Zelda said patiently.

"What cousin?" The three girls stared at him. He stared back, eyes flitting from Zelda to Malon and to Ilia, and felt a bit stupid. "Oh, the - uh. The gypsy?"

"The Sheikah," Zelda said. "Let's do strive to be politically correct."

"You're so stupid, Link."

"Shut it, Malon," he shot back, before addressing Zelda with much more civility. "I forgot you had a cousin. He's never around much."

"The Sheikah are still nomadic. They travel everywhere, even outside of the country. It's part of their culture. My aunt married one, and had a son with her husband, who happens to be a Sheikah, which therefore gives me a cousin who is, in fact, a Sheikah."

Link sensed the conversation was heading in a bad direction. Zelda had that look in her eye - that devious, princessy look. "I - uh. I was kind of hoping to take Epona on a trail ride."

Malon stopped playing with her hair and narrowed her eyes. "All you do is ride horses."

"All you do is ride horses!"

"I live here," Malon said primly. "You're just a stupid boarder."

"I board here too," Ilia put in, pouting out her bottom lip in an almost unconscious way. Malon reached over and patted her hand.

"Yeah, but you're a smart boarder," she said serenely. "Link is a smelly dumb fairy boy who likes to trot around on his giant horse with his head stuck in the clouds. He also drools."

"Thanks."

"Regardless," Zelda said loudly, using the tone of voice that was supposed to remind them that she was a princess and occasionally they had to listen to her. "Tonight, my cousin and his family are going to be in the area, and we are going to hang out."

"Hang out?" he repeated, as if waiting for Zelda to correct herself. She didn't.

Discomfort crept into his stomach. Zelda, Malon, and even shy Ilia fit in smoothly at parties. Zelda has inherited her mother's natural grace and social charm; she could form and hold a conversation with anyone, without having to play the royalty card. Malon was charismatic in her own way, though sometimes Link imagined it was because half the people she talked to were afraid she would punch them if they tried to disengage. Ilia could find commonalities between a Goron and Gerudo - the best of friends were born from conversations with her at the center, and people were drawn to that.

Link was just awkward. He had a habit of letting a conversation trail off, forgetting that humans - unlike horses - expected you to keep talking or to listen to them and respond appropriately. He preferred the peace found between man and animal. Animals never cared that his idea of the "latest music" was recordings of wind and string quartets, or that he didn't read the same books or that he had two left feet and - according to Malon - looked like a blind rooster when he tried to dance.

"Yes, Link, we are going to hang out. Experience a new culture. Be ethnic. Have some fun with other people our own age."

"We are our own ages. We could all hang out with each other, here," he tried, unconvincingly. "There's a new northern trail I found. We could-!"

"We are not. Going. To ride. Horses," Zelda enunciated slowly. Her eyes were steely. This was a royal decree. "We're going. You're going."

"Let's go?" Ilia politely suggested, moving calmly towards the door. Her slow, melodic way of moving magically diffused the tension.

Malon hopped off the counter, tousling her thick red hair as her boots smacked against the floor. "I hope Sheikah are cute. I need me some summer lovin'."

"Can we please not talk about this." Link said flatly as Zelda rose to leave. She flicked his nose affectionately as she passed.

Malon cackled. "Maybe we can find you a fling. Can you imagine, Zel? Link? With a fling?" She flung open the screechy screen door. Outside Ilia stood patiently beside her car, the sun turning her blonde hair pearly white. Link's eyes trailed longingly towards the far pastures, where Epona rolled in the long grass. Maybe if he ran fast enough, he could tunnel in with the moles and hide there until they forgot about him.

"Come on, Link, you're fling is waiting!" Malon called, waving from the back passenger seat.

"I'm about to fling myself under a moving tractor," Link muttered darkly, and followed.