Feathers and Mud

There had never been many animals on Skyloft. There were remlits and bugs, and of course, the Loftwings. They had been a part of Karane's life, growing up. The most important being when her Loftwing finally chose her.

She had been young when it happened, only 8 when the young bird had flown to her. While it wasn't particularly normal (usually there was a ceremony for the children to receive their Loftwings), but Karane wasn't complaining. The past year of her life had been very difficult, with her father dying in the accident and her mother's descent into depression and illness.

The past year had been tough on Karane, but that day made everything a little bit nicer.

She had been playing by the lake, in its muddy banks. While her mother hated it when she came home dirty, Karane didn't care. Her mother's scoldings and yelling was the only attention she got from her mother nowadays, so the muddier the better in her mind.

But that day, as she dirtied her best dress, a small peachy Loftwing landed beside her. Its wings and tail were tipped in olive green, and the under side of its belly was still fluffed with down feathers from the nest.

Karane stared in wonder, dropping her wad of gooey soil. She didn't know what to do with the bird, given that she had always been told that they were for "when she was older."

It squawked in a small, high pitched tone, fluffing up at her. Karane jumped at the sudden sound. It walked closer, nudging the ball of mud closer to her.

For a moment, both of them were quiet. Karane eyed the bird which was a good half foot taller than she was at this point. Then she took the mud wad back. The Loftwing ruffled itself happily and hopped even closer, letting out a little coo.

Karane grinned, her face smeared with dust and grime. She held out her hand to it, offering friendship.

It leaned forward and pressed its large beak against her fingers. Karane giggled at that. As the little Loftwing came closer, it went to settle itself down beside her, using the mucky bank as a pseudo-nest.

Karane tentatively hugged it around its soft neck, burying her face in its feathers.

After everything that had been happening to her recently in life, all of the loss and anger and pain, it felt so good to have a friend.

As she got the Loftwing just as dirty as she was, she let out a few little sniffles and cries against its coat. Because she finally had a shoulder to cry on.

Even if it was only an animal.

Meaning

The word was empty now.

Everyone had always told her that her father was courageous. He was brave, a hero, and noble. Everyone told her so. It had made sense Karane's entire life thus far. He went to work in the sky, his armor and goggles and Loftwing in tow. Then ,every night, he came home to her and mother, hugging and kissing and story-telling.

He had more smiles than Karane could count, and she looked so much like him that it made her feel like she belonged.

And her father was courageous.

But half a week ago, the Headmaster and the other Sky Knights had come to their house. Karane didn't hear what they said, she was in the living room with her toys, but her mother screamed and collapsed to the floor in tears.

For the next four days, everyone else on all the islands came to their house. They brought food and wreaths and idols of the Goddess. And most importantly, they brought that word.

"He died with courage." they all said. Whether they were telling her, or her mother, they were saying that word over and over.

Today, everyone was in black. All the women were veiled, and mother wouldn't hold her hand. In fact, Karane was rather alone within the crowd. She was a solitary figure with her pigtails on either side of her head going in every direction. She stared numbly at the box they had put him in.

Even now, she still heard the murmuring, "He was so courageous. A true Sky Knight."

Karane shook her head slightly and muttered, "Courage doesn't matter if you're dead."

She hadn't expected that anyone would hear her, not even her mother had been bothering to pay attention to her own daughter, but Karane got a response nonetheless.

"Don't say that," said the quiet voice, as not to interrupt the prayer. "Courage is one of the most important things. Your dad's courage meant he died keeping us all safe."

The voice belonged to Karane's kid neighbor. He was brunette and had a face as speckles as a river rock, but Karane's memory couldn't be bothered with his name. His parents had brought a cake and a fish stew. The cake had been good.

"What do you know?" Karane snapped quietly, "Your dad is still alive."

The boy frowned. Karane looked back to the bx, her blue eyes wavering as her seven-year-old body grew hollow inside. Looking at that box erased the meaning of the word courage. If courage meant dying so that random neighbors could live, then Karane didn't want to be courageous. She wanted to be a coward and live instead. She wished her father had been a coward instead.

But then she felt a hand take hers, jolting her from her descent into violent grieving.

The boy had stepped closer and was holding her hand now. He didn't look at her, he didn't say anything, he just held her hand.

Karane went back to staring at that damned box, but this time she didn't feel herself sinking down inside it. She just squeezed his freckled hand as tight as she could.

Today would not be the day that Karane would become a coward.

You Hit Me Once, I Hit You Back

"What goes around comes around!" Karane shouted, a feisty 6 year old at the time.

She lobbed the mud covered rock right for his head, and didn't miss this time. He hit the ground screaming, his shorter arms flailing a bit. Karane laughed triumphantly, wiping her filthy hands off on her pants.

"Serves you right!" she called back at the boy as she began to strut home. "Your mother should have taught you not to hit girls!"

But by the time she had gotten home, her mother had already found out.

"YOUNG LADY!" her mother fumed. "I cannot believe what I am hearing! You got into a fight, with another child? And he's only FIVE?"

"He hit me!" Karane defended herself adamantly.

"That doesn't matter, Karane," she scolded, index finger shaking in the ginger girl's face. "He is younger than you and so little, you can't just do that! He probably thought he was playing a game!"

Karane scowled. "Sorry," she muttered.

"Oh no you're not, but you very soon will be," her mother demanded, grabbing Karane by her grubby arm and dragging her out the door. They marched down the way, past all of their neighbors, and to the little house on the end. Her mother knocked on the door. and they waited. Inside there was shuffling before a timid little woman answered the door.

"Oh… Herine," the woman sighed to Karane's mother.

"Someone is here to apologize," her mother stated, looking down to her daughter. Karane pursed her lips and shuffled her feet.

"Sorry for throwing a rock at Fledge's head," she muttered.

Fledge's mother was about to reassure the little girl, before her own mother cut in, "Apologize to him, Karane."

"But—"

"No buts."

Karane huffed and crossed her arms before she went into the house and stomped her way over to the petite little boy sitting in a chair. His mother had been bandaging his ear, where the rock had hit.

"Sorry for throwing the rock at your face," she muttered.

Fledge gulped and looked to be shaking. "I-its oka-ay."

Karane peered at him before adding in a whisper, "But if you tell on me again I won't be."

Mother

Karane remember her mother. She remembered more of her mother near the end. Herine, her mother, had grown gaunt and apathetic about life at the end. She had grown pale and cold and spent every hour of every day staring out the window.

Karane remembered her mother's descent into depression and illness, never having the willpower to recover. Herine had stopped caring about the living, including her daughter.

Karane remember the pain and anger that had taken root in her heart, turning her into a bitter and angry child. Her mother stopped loving her when her father stopped living, and she wasn't sure she could ever forgive her for that.

But Karane also remember before it was bad. She remembered when her mother was full of sunshine and love. Herine and Karane had had a tradition of making her father a cake every weekend. Karane had always been the one to put on the frosting.

Karane remembered playing dress up in her mother's closet and traipsing around the house in too-big shoes and an adult woman's dress. Herine had always called her "my little beauty."

Karane remembered climbing into bed at night and her mother coming in to read her a new story, or sing her a song. Without fail, Karane was asleep by the end of her performance, no matter what it was.

And, most importantly, Karane remembered her mother hugging her when she thought her daughter was dreaming. They were always small, simple embraces. But there was always a small squeeze and a whisper, "I love you more than you will ever know, my precious little girl."

Cooties

"You're it!"

"Wait, no tag backs!"

"No take-backsies, you're it!"

Karane smiled, seeing all the local boys playing tag together. She was dirt smudged and had a scab on her knee from her most recent adventure involving caterpillars and a remlit. But hey, she could go for a game of tag.

"I'll be it!" she volunteered, seeing how upset Link was that Groose had "tagged him back." The six boys all froze in the places and looked from her, to one another.

Karane frowned in confusion. "What? I can run," she assured them.

Groose shouted, "No girls allowed, girls have cooties!"

"What?" Karane protested, balling her hands up into fists. "I do NOT have cooties! Take it back!"

But by then, all six boys had started running across the bridge, scampering into town center and away from her.

Karane ground her teeth. She would not take this insult sitting down. She stalked in their wakes, following their trail as quietly as possible for a 7 year old, and following them to where they decided to carry on their game.

"Ok, so Link you were it—"Groose began, Link protesting still, but the other boys didn't care enough to argue, for the simple fact that they WEREN'T it.

That was when Karane pounced.

She launched herself onto Groose's back, thrashing her tiny fists at his head. "TAKE IT BACK!" she yelled. "I DON'T HAVE COOTIES!"

The Cawlin, Strich, and Fledge all began to panic (Fledge in particular, given Karane's history with him) and go call for mothers and fathers to help get the hellion girl off of Groose. Groose chose to cry as the girl held him down and hit him repeatedly.

Link and Pipit, on the other hand, yelped in surprise and immediately went to pull Karane off. Link grabbed Groose from under her with Pipit, the oldest and only one big enough to take on the flailing devil, grabbed Karane and pulled her aside, despite her legs kicking out in all directions.

Groose shouted from the ground, a black eye and bloody nose brandished, "You're crazy! See? Cooties make you crazy!"

Karane huffed and seethed. She did NOT have cooties! Cooties were like germs, they made people sick! Karane didn't have them, she couldn't have them. Because if she did…

Then her cooties had made her mother sick.

Devil-Child

Even before her parents had died, Karane had been acknowledged as an interesting girl. People tended to call her "dynamo" or "spitfire" to her face. She didn't know what those words meant, and she didn't care.

As she got older and didn't grow out of it, the words "unruly" and "out of control!" were attributed to her in secret at the laundry gossip. But old ladies thought every kid was unruly.

It was during those two years of hell that the words "devil-child" and "banshee" were shouted at her by angry, defensive mothers, dragging their children away with them protectively.

In the two years of hell, her father had died and her mother had neglected her completely while she wasted away to nothingness. This left Karane with many uncontrollable emotions, and she took it out on the other kids she knew.

Nobody was safe.

Groose got tackled and beaten. Strich had his bugs squished. Cawlin had every pair of his pants burnt. Orielle had been held down while Karane cut her hair off. Kina had been soaked in pumpkin juice. Zelda had her toys broken. Link had his ears bashed in. Fledge had rocks chucked at his face, sometimes hitting, something not, but the fear was always there.

Pipit had one time, tried to talk to he about it.

"You're mad, Karane, and that's ok, but nobody likes you," he had said, sticking up for his weaker friends. "You can't beat up younger kids like that!"

"I already did," she snapped.

"But you can't!"

"Who's gonna stop me, pimple-face?" Her hands became fists again, like they so often did.

"I will if I have to!"

Then, she grabbed him by his scruffy hair and dragged him to the dirt, sitting on top of him to keep him pinned. "You're not big enough to stop me!" she shouted angrily. At the age of eight, Karane was a bit ahead in her growth spurts. It wouldn't last for long, though.

Pipit had struggled to get her off of him and make her stop, but his flailing was useless.

Until his mother showed up and pushed Karane off her son, grabbing him up protectively.

"Get off my son you little monster!" she had yelped, hoping that no permanent damage had been done to her precious little boy.

Karane stuck out her tongue as Mallara carried her boy off. Once again, the red headed ruddy-skinned girl was alone in the meadow. Those were the moments when her fury raged harder, when she had absolutely nobody left.