A/N After finishing the last chapter I realized, plot holes everywhere. I almost considered deleting last chapter as well cause I fell into a rut of many paths. I couldn't decide which one to choose. Now that I have been rewriting Restless Spirits, I also realized that I love writing stuff like this. I've always loved writing wolf Link things so expect more of those. Shoutout to the guest that commented on the 16th: last chapter seemed Shakespearian because it was like 1 am when I rewrote the beginning and I was busy with some English homework before it. So, the genius of literature definitely contributed to how I wrote it, I kinda write like him in general to be honest though. Anyway, enjoy.

Dear Big Brother,
You showed me a lot of things.
I learned a lot I didn't know,
But you forgot to teach me one last thing...
How to let you go.

I never thought,
I would see the day.
When you wouldn't be there,
to show me the way...

(Credit to the 2 authors I borrowed those from. I don't know who they are).

Chapter 7

Ever since he was wounded, Link had done more falling asleep and waking up than he thought possible in such a time period. Each moment had melded into the next, always sandwiched tightly between surfacing and going back under. He had become slightly accustomed to fading from reality, now he had assumed that he had faded for the last time. As expected, he was surprised to feel the familiar grogginess accompanied with waking up. Unless the pearly gates of the afterlife smelled like goats, Link was pretty sure he wasn't dead.

Just because he wasn't dead didn't mean he wasn't close though. Of course, he had been close to death for awhile by then, but he was pretty bad off. Wherever he was, he felt like fate had used him as a punching bag. All that he felt was left was an abused sack of weak bones and muscles, passed around from place to place, person to person. Ready to be carted off to the afterlife at any moment.

The whole passing him from person to person wasn't so far off. The unfortunate, fate abused, sickly hero was still struggling for consciousness when he heard voices. It wasn't just one voice, it was two. And they were loud. Far too loud. A subconscious whimper escaped his groggy mind. They needed to shut up. Unluckily for the battered wolf, his cry was not heard.

"No! You don't understand! You can't tell anyone! He's domesticated! Just listen-" the first voice was high, shrill even. Desperation and pleading laced it heavily.

"It bit you! You could have a disease! I don't care that it hardly broke the skin! It's dangerous! I can't keep it around the livestock, let alone people like you and me!" The second was deeper, exasperation fluttered through it uncertainly. Their confidence was wavering.

"I didn't lug a wolf on Epona's back all the way here for no reason! I think it could be helpful, just wait and see! Besides, it's almost dead anyway. If you don't want it here it may not last long so it doesn't matter!"

At the mention of Epona, Link's ears perked. The small action was simple and practically uncontrolled, but it didn't stop the muscles from tingling and aching softly. He didn't notice how fuzzy the sounds appeared to be before his head slowly cleared a bit. The voices and scents were so familiar. They were home scents.

A pause stretched out as the recipient of the angered outburst pondered. "Fine, it can stay here as long as it isn't causing problems." That was Fado, the voice deeper and accented.

A squeal emanated from the other source of noise. That was definitely Ilia. Happiness and dread filled the hero to the brim. He also felt guilt, out of all the days of his absence he had barely thought about the villagers at all. True he had been dying, but it was little excuse. He cared for the people, amd them for him. For once life shone a small sliver of luck. People he cared for were willing to watch over a... well. A monster. In that form, he felt he didn't deserve their care, even if he needed and wanted it.

Despite being semi conscious, Link could feel everything that was wrong. His wounds itched and ached furiously and his blood felt too hot for his body. He still felt feverish and sick, worse off than he had been at Coro's. He was faintly aware of Ilia speaking again.

"No matter what, you can't tell my Father. I don't care what happens, he can't find out abou-"

The greedy hands of sickened sleep pulled Link back down. Consciousness left him, cutting off his senses from the world of the living. He was safe again.

When the blue-eyed beast finally breached consciousness again, he felt sore. Not from his wounds, but across his body, as though he had been sleeping in one place for far too long. A tired yawn was drawn forth as he attempted to stretch. His wounds ached less and itched more. At least they didn't ache that much.

Warm blood still coursed through his body, not quite down to normal temperature. With a huff he took his moment of being awake as a chance to gather information. Yes, he was in the goat barn as he had expected. Yes, he was in pain, sick, and still in danger of death. No, he was not able to move much. Yes, he was frustrated with his situation.

Now, Link is typically known for his cool head and self sacrificing (sometimes seemingly suicidal) tendencies, but at that moment he felt he had a right to complain. So, in his mind he let a small, frustrated, pent up storm rage. He was sick of being sick, sure it was nice being a wolf again, but the situation still sucked. He resolved to immediately find a way to fix the problem as soon as he could get up without several thousand nerves screaming their discomfort.

He reigned in his emotions as he lay on the straw covered foor of the barn. The large pile of it that he had been sleeping on was a poor excuse for a bed. The new bandages seemed bright white against the dimness of the building. He was being well taken care of there, yet he still yearned to leave. He needed to fix his situation so he could go home peacefully. For once, he yearned to be with his technical family more than freedom.

With barely a blink of an eye his mood shifted. In that form, he was without a family. A monster to be cut down without a thought. The one he had considered a great mentor and practically a father had attacked him before, after he had been transformed for the first time. Link didn't doubt that Rusl would do it again, the man was fiercely protective of the people he cared for.

His emotions stewed for quite some time. The drowsiness had long since abandoned him, he could no longer sleep. The only thing that broke the string of his thoughts was the creaking of the barn door. With a start, Link bristled instinctively, it made him look bigger, even in his sick and weakened state.

As the door finally opened completely, he barely put his bristles down. It was Ilia, she had an armful of supplies, Fado trailed closely behind her. The hero was actually pretty well hidden from the entrance to the barn, likely to prevent people from walking in and seeing a wolf laying near the livestock. Once the pair of humans reached the wolf, they seemed quite surprised that he was awake. Well, Ilia looked pleasantly surprised while Fado looked surprised and frightened at the sight of the slightly bristling beast.

Link honestly didn't mean to keep bristling. It just happened instinctively. As Ilia set the supplies down, he could only guess his instincts were piping up because of how cornered he was. With 2 people crowding him in a corner while he was wounded was cause enough for them to activate. So, naturally, he was hesitant to let the girl anywhere near his wounds. His heart throbbed with unwanted wariness.

The gentle hands of the young woman reached out to him tentatively. Around her left hand a white bandage was wrapped snuggly. Guilt pulled at the hero's conscience, so that's who he bit. He drooped his head in shame, he would never consciously hurt someone like that. Especially someone he grew up with.

Taking the head dipping as a form of submission, Ilia began to work. With the gentleness of a healer she unwrapped the bandages on the wolf. The wounds looked ugly. The one on his side was still draining some fluid, yet it didn't look quite as red or inflamed as it did at Coro's. His back leg looked bad, it was surrounded in brusing barely visible beneath his thick fur. The jagged lines created by the trap looked more purple than a healthy pink, it burned and itched almost as much as his side did. The puncture wounds on his front leg were healing surprisingly well compared to the other wounds. Only a handful of the dot like wounds were an angry red, despite the setbacks they were probably the only ones that would heal nicely.

The bandages reeked intensely to Link's sensitive nose. A sneeze snuck its way up his nostrils, causing him to sneeze several times as Ilia washed the irritated tissues of his wounds. It hurt yes, but it felt good to feel slightly cleaner.

Fado handed the girl supplies as he eyed the wolf suspiciously. She had said that they could train the beast to help with herding, but he had his doubts. It had a chain on its leg for crying out loud! That probably meant it was chained up for a good reason. It had bitten Ilia too! Of course her wound didn't look serious, but the herdsman had a right to worry. (Just because it had healed quickly didn't mean anything, she still could've caught a disease, he reasoned).

It took hardly any time at all for her to finish wrapping the wolf's wounds. Honestly, both Ordonians had been quite surprised that it had survived. It had slept for days on end. Almost 4 full days actually. The canine had only been able to barely consume water between short lapses of deep sleep and semi-consciousness. It gave Ilia a bit of hope for her plan and gave her pride in her developing healing skills. The Shaman had taught her well.

Ilia stepped back to admire her handy work on the weak beast, as she looked at it an idea struck her.

"Fado, do you think you can go grab one of Link's extra potions? Please? He's still out adventuring somewhere so I'm pretty sure he won't be needing it anytime soon"

[Irony is great]

The other Ordonian looked like he was about to protest, but then stopped. There really was no way of going against her, the past couple days had reinforced that idea. Begrudgingly he trudged out of the barn and towards the main village.

Link's ears perked up at the sound of his name. Sleep had been calling back to him, even being conscious was starting to exhaust him. As the other man left, Ilia pulled out some strips of meat, a bowl, and a bottle of water. All of which she placed in front of him. They lasted a grand total of maybe 10 seconds before eveything in front of him disappeared (besides the bowl of course). Whatever disappeared was quickly replenished by the amused girl. The animal was obviously quite hungry, it didn't hesitate in consuming any of it.

Exhaustion was quickly setting in again as the minutes ticked on. The only thing to rowse him from his bleary thoughts was the half a bottle of red liquid being poured into the bowl next to him. Both Ordonians expected the wolf to dislike the taste of it, but to their surprise it last as long as the food and water did.

Upon consumption, Link waited for 5 minutes for it to take full effect. It wasn't much, but it was enough. The rush to his head left him dizzy as the infection cleared out within a minute. The wounds on his front leg stitched together and the swelling went down. The itchiness of his other wounds disappeared, they healed enough to avoid anymore infection, but the little bit of potion could only go so far.

The rush dissipated and his body stopped tingling slightly as he stood. Where days before, standing would have been quite the feat, all four paws stood firmly on the ground. Only a slight tremble radiated gently from his back leg. His sudden movement startled both of the humans.

Link stood there for a moment, took a deep breath, then promptly ran. He ran straight between the legs of 2 people he cared for and then pushed through the small gap of the door that Fado had unintentionally left open. He heard Ilia shout after him. It wasn't that he didn't like them or wasn't grateful for their assistance, but he wanted to be able to walk on 2 legs again.

So of course he ran through the thick snow, right out of the rickety gates of the ranch. All the way down the path to the village he bolted behind the closest building, trying hard to avoid being seen. He was a gray-green blur against the bright contrast of the snow. It was early in the morning, luckily no one was out it appeared, making it easier on him. He ran right past his house, past a confused Epona huddling under the shelter he had built for her. He leaped over stones and past Ordon's Spring.

The sharp clacking of his nails ricocheted over the ravine as he slowed and loped across the bridge. The cold air turned his breath cloudy white, disappearing against the shimmering landscape. Oh Din, he was free. Finally free. His remaining wounds were almost forgotten as adrenaline pumped to the pounding drum of his heart.

Upon getting to the other side he ran again, his muscles pumping in time to the rhythm his heart beat wildly. Freedom. It was exhilarating. He kept going until he no longer could. His tongue lolled from his mouth as he rested by Faron's Spring. The last time he had been there he had been so sure of his demise. How foolish those thoughts seemed when he was obviously so... /alive/. Behind a tree by the spring he dug a small hole to lay in, making sure the snow was away from him. He finally had a chance to fix it all, a chance to go back home. Finally, he was content. Finally, he was free.

Unbeknownst to the exhilarated wolf, someone had been awake that morning. The shocked blonde boy had watched the wolf run from the ranch all the way down the path to the hero's house before disappearing comoletely. The young boy had been quite surprised, and to his shame, scared.

Colin had been up early thinking about why in all of Hyrule, the Resistance was staying at Mayor Bo's home. Each theory had led to his brother in all but blood. Worry worked its way into his weary mind. He couldn't sleep that night because of it. With the luck of a dozen men he had borne witness to the beast going through his village.

As any responsible boy would do, he naturally woke his father up to tell him about it.

The swordsman was quite reluctant to wake up, having finally drifted into a deep dreamless sleep for the first time in days and days. The urgency in his son's voice was what quickly roused him. With sunken, worried eyes he tiredly inquired about what was wrong.

The response he recieved was hurried and choppy, but he caught the gist of it. "Colin, are you saying there was a wolf in the village?" He asked, concern and rage burned brightly in his eyes. The image of crimson dyed leaves and fallen weapons had imprinted themselves behind the once bright irises of the man.

With a curt nod, Colin confirmed what his father was asking. With a start the boy remembered something he had been meaning to ask Rusl anyway.

The man was up and about as soon as the short conversation had ended, determination forming a hard, chiseled replica of his face. His son stood by, looking shy for the first time in ages. Rusl paused, looking over to his son.

"Is something wrong?" Concern etched deeply into the older man's voice.

The young boy paused, looking at his feet. "Um... maybe. I've just been wondering... why is the Resistance here? If theyre here then shouldn't Link be with you guys? He is one of you... right?"

Rusl froze, the fury about the wolf dampened by the rain of sorrow that quickly bubbled up inside him. He knew this would happen eventually, but... he had hoped his son wasn't so clever for once. With a deep sigh, he breathed out some of his pain. He knew Colin would suspect something... it was best to tell him then.

"Walk with me son... put on something warm." With that said, Rusl headed outside, his son close behind him.

The walk to Ordon Spring was never so significant that day. Each step continued to follow Colin's peaking curiosity. The crunch of the snow became ingrained in the boys head that day. Evey little thing that led up to that moment stayed with him for ages on end. Every rustle of a tree branch, every winter bird that sang a song. Everything.

At Ordon Spring, his world came to a screeching halt as his father told him an impossible concept. He never knew that he was capable of such anger of denial. Likewise Rusl never knew his son was capable of screaming in such powerful rage. The boy yelled and sobbed. Denying to the heavens themselves that it couldn't be true, because Link dying wasn't a possibility. He had never imagined a day where the hero wouldn't come home. He roared til his voice was hoarse and his tears blinded him. He numbness he felt blocked him off from his father's shaking embrace. Still, he spoke in a rage of denial, his voice dwindling. Over and over he spoke of the imoossibility of it all. For Link always promised to come home... and he never broke those promises...

A/N Sorry again for the lack of the Resistance. I really got into this whole thing so I kinda forgot to leave room for them.