Chapter 3: Storm
The wind was picking up as the boy returned to the fortress from the archery range. There would probably be a storm that night, restricting every member of the tribe to the interior of the fortress. Even now there was sand being blown into the child's face, obscuring his vision. By the time he had reached the fortress area, visibility was limited so much that the boy couldn't see his hand when his arm was held away from his body. After stumbling around, the boy tripped, falling to the floor. When he got up, he could no longer remember what direction he needed to go. It was getting harder to breathe in the blowing sand.
Suddenly, he was grabbed from behind. A cloth was tied over his nose and mouth, and breathing suddenly became much easier. Somebody grabbed his arm firmly, leading him away through the storm. The boy did not worry about who the person might be or where they were leading him: he knew that wherever it was would be better than staying outside. He did the best he could to follow, but after taking only a few steps passed out.
The first thing the boy noticed when he woke up was stone. Although he at first thought that he had been safely brought back to the fortress, he soon found himself to be quite wrong. As his vision cleared, he realized that the rock above had the rough texture of a desert cave, not the smooth stone of the stronghold ceilings. A short distance away was the irregular entrance of the cave, and beyond that the storm still raged.
"You okay?" The speaker was the girl who had beat him in archery earlier that day. She leaned against the back wall of the cave, watching as he stood up.
"Fine." He headed to the entrance.
"I wouldn't go out there if I were you," the girl warned him.
"I'll manage."
"You sure are insane," she commented. "I wouldn't even go out when it's like this. You're better off waiting until the storm dies down."
The boy continued on his way toward the storm.
"Are you even listening to me? I said it's dangerous out there."
Her words fell on deaf ears. The boy had already vanished into the storm outside.
"Dammit!" she exclaimed. As quick as she could, the girl ran out into the screaming wind and dragged the boy back into the safety of the cave.
"Why won't you let me go?" he screamed over the howling wind.
"Just wait until the storm passes," she instructed. "You'll never make it if you go out when it's like this. How many times do I have to tell you this?"
"You managed just fine. It can't be that hard."
"I've been taught how to survive out there. How much training like that have you had?" Her words stung like a blow.
"Nobody talks to me like that!" he shouted. A second later he was laying on his side on the ground, watching as the girl knelt down so that her face was almost level with his, speaking softly but with a firm voice.
"My name is Nabooru, and I'll talk however I want to whoever I please," she told him. "You're a little runt who has little physical strength and no survival skills. If I tell you you'll die if you go out there, it's probably true."
"I'm not a runt," he responded, the anger rising in his voice. "My name is Ganondorf."