Well, this certainly complicated things. It was far from impossible, but well and truly complicated. Link wasn't upset by this newest discovery. In fact, he was quite pleased. Many things that others assumed to be signs of a brutal nature turned out to be harmless, such as his pointed ears and broad shoulders. Of course he was bad at climbing trees. In his true habitat, he didn't need to. And if there were no trees, there were no dead leaves and loam and other debris covering the ground. No need for a brown or tan pelt when there was no earthy colors to blend in to. If Link had been curious about his pack before, he was livid for finding them now. He didn't see why he should hesitate. He had the noise-maker Saria had made for him and a fairy to lead the way there and back if he got lost. And besides, he wasn't going to leave the forest right away. No, there were plans to come up with and decisions to make first, but that would all depend on whether or not he actually uncovered something useful on his expedition. So, with no reason to delay, he prepared for the journey to the Outside.
The next morning, he petitioned Saria for an extra helping of meat. She hesitated at first, but relented when Link told his tragic story of napping before supper, only to be awoken by a nightmare that had destroyed his appetite. Which wasn't a complete lie; he had had a nightmare the other evening. It hadn't been much different from the dreams he'd been having of late, so it didn't actually bother him enough to cancel his dinner. However, he didn't know how long he would be traveling, and he didn't think he could go hunting for his meal. It seemed cruel to tear prey from their world when he was just about to find his own.
Wrapping the meat in fresh leaves, Link told Saria that he was going to find a quiet place to practice his ocarina, which wasn't a complete lie either, since he was planning on doing just that to pass the time on his quest. Then it was a simple matter of dodging the Nutkeepers' grove on his way to the white-flowered trees. When he reached the trees, he found his detour had been pointless; the Nutlings were already waiting for him. He considered telling them to leave, but thought better of it. It would do no good do send them back only to have them tattle on him. So he sighed and pretended they weren't there. The leading Nutling, who's name he'd found out was Mari, smirked triumphantly. Link did his best to ignore them, but failed miserably once he realized she was holding something. In fact, all of the Nutlings were. Each one had a long vine rope coiled into bunches. He ogled them warily.
"What are those for?"
Mari glanced at her bundle, then back to Link.
"It's for… just in case."
"Just in case of what?"
"Just in case we need them."
"Need them for what?"
"What we need them for."
Link snorted angrily and turned away. Fine. He wasn't telling them his plans either.
They waited in silence. Thankfully, it wasn't a long wait. The little fairy who had proved so useful as of late spiraled down from the canopy to hover in front of Link. She was quivering with excitement and Link was surprised to find himself doing the same.
"What's with the hunting party?" she asked, not bothering to hide the amusement in her question.
"Just ignore them," he growled, heading into the wilderness. He heard several whines of protest at the idea the Nutlings should be ignored and the fairy giggled when Link's ear twitched irritably. He looked up at the sprite and smiled at her laughter. It occurred to him then that despite all she had done for him, he didn't know her name.
"Um… I'm Link," he stated arbitrarily, feeling too awkward for a formal introduction. The fairy seemed to appraise him, observing but not commenting for so long that Link had begun to think she wasn't going to respond.
"Navi," she said at last. "I'm called Navi."
Link liked that name.
XXX
He was surprised how natural it was. Without having to properly think about it, he could make the ocarina sing what he wanted the world to know about his adventure, his hopes, and perhaps, although he hadn't intended it, his fears. This must be a part of being what I am, he thought. Like how knowing how to climb a tree is a part of being a Kokiri, or how knowing how to swim is part of being a fish. It's what makes it what it is. And the very notion that he now knew a little about what he was sent the howl of the ocarina soaring.
The only way to properly describe the assembly was as a parade. The Nutlings dutifully followed Link, who was dutifully following Navi, all with a bouncing cadence echoing off the trees and ringing through the canopy. Any birds that had been calling were silent. Any creature rustling through the undergrowth stood still. And any sound Mido might have made as he slinked behind them was nonexistent in its tune. In his mind, he was here for responsibility's sake. As leader of the tribe, he forbade any misfortune to fall upon the little Kokiri young on their quest. Especially if it came from that rabbit-eared mongrel, he thought with a growl. Not for the first time, he considered stopping them. Herding the Nutlings back to the haven and giving the monster cub a clawing that would quell any thoughts of wandering off and turning wild-or any thoughts in general. Monsters had no place thinking. Monsters had no place at all. And so he stayed hidden, watching and waiting to see what exactly this one was hoping to accomplish. It all might end with the monster disappearing with his kind to never be seen by Kokiri again, or with a hungry pack following a long missing cub to the feast of their lives. Or perhaps, they would find themselves with a troupe of obedient protectors hunting for them and guarding them. Who could guess? No, he would let them be for now. But only for now.
XXX
Link headed north until he met the river, then proceeded west along its bank. Any forest dweller knew to stay close to the river when traveling, and not just to sate one's thirst. There were fish in the water, and if one became unsure of one's whereabouts, one simply had to turn around and walk beside the bank until one came across a fjord one recognized. Link wondered if he could follow the flow to the edge of the forest. Then is struck him that if he could, the river must go beyond, which meant every drop of water, save the ones delivered by rain, were from the Outside. Quivering with excitement, he took a few steps closer and dipped his toes into the murky shallows. It was of another land, just like he was. In fact, he and it could very possibly of the same land. Perhaps the water of his home had come searching for him, and now that it had found him, it was guiding him back.
XXX
When the sun warmed the tips of his ears, he stopped to take his lunch. The meat was cold, but nicely roasted. He tore into it hungrily, his sharp eye teeth flashing in between bites. The Nutlings, to say the least, found the spectacle slightly uneasy. They went about collecting nuts, roots, and berries to chew, always maintaining a wide berth of those gnashing fangs.
Navi was a little less cowed by the sight. In her mind, talons and beaks and beady yellow eyes were far more frightening than a set of jaws. If they reached for her, she would simply fly away. Most animals with teeth lacked wings to follow her. She fluttered towards the monster cub, looking for a place to perch, and finally settled on the soft fabric of his hat. Link paused in his eating when he felt weight added to his head and tentatively raised a paw to discover what it was. His palm brushed wing tips. There is a fairy on my head, he thought, more than pleased. He noticed some of the Nutlings casting a furtive glance in his direction, then double-taking when they saw Navi resting between his ears. They wouldn't be offered a fairy partner until their tenth summer. And here was a monster cub, who by all rights should not even consider such a selective trait, eating his midday meal with a sprite willingly snuggled on his cap. Link tried not to smile and act nonchalant, but the muscles in his face were determined to lift the corners of his mouth, making getting his food to stay in his cheeks a bit of a challenge. Navi wriggled into a more comfortable position, tickling the edges of his ears with her wings.
"How strange."
Link lifted his head at the sound of her voice, a bit of meat trailing from his mouth. Did she think he was strange, he thought defensively.
"You have to put dead things in your mouth to stay alive."
Now Link felt silly. She had been talking about his eating habits, not him specifically. He supposed this meant he ought not to jump to conclusions. He decided to practice that in future.
"Well, yes. It's called eating," Link said, feeling sillier by the second. "We hunt. We cook the meat. We eat it. And then we poop."
"Oh, I know how it works," the fairy said. "It's just that fairies don't really do that. The hunting and the eating and the pooping, I mean."
"Then how do you live?" Link asked, trying to hide the note of jealousy in his voice. It must be very convenient, he thought, to simply go and do what one was to do without having to stop to replenish and relieve one's self.
"We soak up the warm tree dust."
Link's brain took a moment to process that.
"Warm tree dust," he repeated, hoping it would make more sense if he said it. It didn't.
"Yeah. The tree dust. You know, the nice feelings that the trees make. Don't you feel it?"
"Only when it's sticky and sweet and in my mouth," Link stated flatly. Navi was shocked. Clearly, he did not know. Perhaps monsters couldn't sense plant dust. She supposed they didn't need to. They ate dead things, after all, which brought up a different matter.
"Why do you poop, then?"
"What?!" Link had been biting into a joint when she spoke, he dropped the sliver of meat he'd been about to enjoy out of horror of her question.
"Why do you poop, then? You eat because you can't feel tree dust. But why do you poop? I should think you ought to keep what's already inside you inside you. Your clunky bodies are falling apart as they are, why would you make it worse?"
"Um… it's because…" It was because he wasn't sure what he'd done to deserve such a situation as this. "Because… when you eat food, the stuff stuck inside the food that isn't food… well, it… it doesn't… wait, fairies don't p- do it?"
"Of course not," Navi said with an exasperated sigh. "Fairies soak up the warm tree dust, then we make fairy dust, and the trees soak that up." She huffed in resignation. "All right, so if you can't tell me why you poop, can you at least tell me why you pee?"
"Oh!" Link said nervously, gathering up the remains of his lunch. "I think I just smelled my pack's scent nearby. We'd better follow it!"
"But I thought your whole problem was that you couldn't-"But Link was already haring away, a desperate spring evident in his step.
XXX
He followed the scent trail through the undergrowth, sending ferns shaking as he passed them and twigs cracking under his paws. The trail's source was just up ahead, the smell grew stronger and stronger with each breath he took. Nearly sliding onto his side in the leaves as he dodged an oak, he burst into the open, yowling with joy as he was reunited with his lost kin-
No one was there.
There was nothing there.
The trees had vanished, along with the bushes and loam. Link turned this way and that, and as he did so, tall grasses appeared, some green and fresh and others pale and dead. The stalks came up to his waist is he stood on his hind legs; on all fours, he was completely hidden. The grass stretched in all directions. The only thing he could see besides it was the occasional tree. Its contours were that of a beech, but he did not know beech trees to grow so solitarily.
If he had been thinking in his right mind, he would have noticed that while the sun had been up when he had been running through the woods, it was now the dead of night. There was no moon, and the sky was empty of stars. But this oddity meant nothing to him for the smell of his quandary was stronger than ever. His fur suddenly spiked and his paws started to sweat. That nameless sense one has that can tell when one was being watched was sending panicked messages through his nerves. There was a predator nearby, and he was being hunted.
Saria had taught him what to do if he realized he was something's prey. Link held still, pretending to be ignorant of his danger. His muscles begged to move and carry him away, but he told them to wait just a little longer until-
A few stems of dead grass crinkled under the hunter's paw and Link sprang, running without thinking, ignoring the blades whipping his face. Din must have seen his plight because the ground bucked under him, throwing him onto his head and tumbling dizzyingly. The fall was painless but it didn't matter. The only thing his body knew was fear. Two gargantuan paws had slammed themselves on either side of his disheveled, minute form. They were like a badger's, the claws huge and fat, sprouting from the creature's toes and thinning to a blunt curve that punctured the ground. Naturally Link looked up to see their owner, expecting to see a black, canine nose, maybe the slender snout of a digger. He saw none of those.
The beast's face did not match its paws at all. He had seen a wild boar in one of his earlier summers, the bristling spines of hair covering its body and mean looking tusks poking out from under its heavy, flat muzzle. This one's teeth curved above its eyes, circling to razor ends. The eyes themselves were red and hot, like the blood inside was boiling to the point of turning to thick, nasty bubbles. The fur was a putrid green instead of the soft brown that was normal for its like. It snorted, its flattened nose dripping and emitting steam from its round, empty nostrils. Link's own nose was full of the monster's scent and he realized, horrified, that he had not been following the trail of his pack at all. The pig opened its mouth, showing tearing fangs instead of the molars needed for chewing truffles. At last Link found his voice, and he screamed to the world he was going to die.
XXX
Link jerked painfully awake. He lay there, shivering and panting on the ground, the night air cold against his body. It seemed his scream had existed only in his head. The Nutlings were sleeping soundly in their huddle away from him; he could hear their steady, undisturbed breathing. Link sat up, his blanket falling from his shoulders. He was surprised to find Navi in the folds; she was sleeping soundly, leaning into the warmth of his feet. She twitched as he shifted, but didn't wake. Link caught a corner of the cloth still clinging to his side. He studied the feeling, rolling it in his paw, and wondering, not for the first time, what animal had given its skin to make it. For the longest time, he had assumed it was made from gossamer, like the Kokiri's tunics. Silk worms would make nests in the low branches during the warm days. The Kokiri would collect it and coil it into a pliable yarn, then weave it into the shape of the girdle. Juices from crushed leaves were rubbed into the material to provide camouflage. The color of Link's blanket was cerulean and the ingredients were thicker and warmer than the gossamer fabric; he had found nothing in the forest like it.
Link had always had it, so he didn't typically think about it. But now that so many unexplainable things were suddenly being explained, he wondered what secrets it had to tell. For a terrible moment, he thought it might be the skin of one of his own breed. He quickly realized that it wasn't so, he would think Saria would take more interest in it beyond occasionally soaking it in the creek if it were. Besides, it was obvious the Kokiri hadn't made it-this craft was far above their expertise-and he doubted Saria would have draped him in it if it was of his brethren's flesh. He shivered, partly from the autumn cold, partly from the idea of sleeping in his pack's skin, and partly from relief that he hadn't been. So… who had made it?
The most logical answer was that his pack had. From what, he didn't bother wondering because he had no adequate suggestion. (Which also strengthened the theory that it couldn't possibly be the hide of one of his own. Despite not knowing a thing about them, he felt instinctively they would never warm their cubs by skinning themselves.) Then Link realized this theory created just as many questions as it answered. If his pack had gone to the trouble of warming him, why had they left him? Perhaps he was a runt and had been abandoned. Some animals did that. Maybe the blue pelt was meant as a testament of farewell from a sympathetic harbinger. Fear chilled him and he shook his head fiercely to dispel the despair forming in his mind. If that was the case, then when he found them he would make a show of his strength and health; he would make them see their mistake in leaving him behind and take him back… unless he really was a scrawny reject with no hope of survival among his fellows.
Thinking, Link decided, could be a dangerous pass time when one is completely ignorant of the details to which he was thinking about, and especially if he was in the forest in the middle of the night, away from his friends and surrounded by the sounds of night hunters. Sighing dejectedly, he crawled back under his blanket and closed his eyes. His nose twitched and he snorted, burying his muzzle in his paws. His mind believed he could still smell the scent of the beast from his dream. Passing it off as a side effect of his sleepy head, he didn't notice the crunch of large paws on dead leaves as he fell into unconsciousness.
XXX
It was a wary group that was foraging for breakfast the following morning. Instinctively, the Nutlings had slept in a close-knit pile. While the simple reward for the behavior was warmth through the night, the most beneficial result was the uneasy access to them by predators. The tracks circling the print of crushed loam that had been the Kokiri's nest testified. Link guessed the creature had been trying to choose an easy victim, but with each target intertwined with the next, the action of removing one from the pile would alert its fellows to the danger. All the monster would have gotten for its trouble was a horde of clawing, gnashing Nutlings. At some point it had realized this, and the scent trail marked where it had returned to the forest depths. Navi had done a thorough search of the area, as a partnered fairy would do if her friend was out hunting. She had found no sign of danger nearby. Still they sniffed and looked before approaching a berry bush or climbing a tree that still had a few good fruits left on its branches.
Link thanked the goddesses for his blanket. He had slept completely beneath it, and the thick material had covered his scent with its own. He held it close to him so that its flowery smell comforted him. Isolated from the Nutling pile, if it wasn't for his blanket, he would have been inside a stomach by that point. They set off after a nervous meal, pushing through bushes northwards until reuniting with the river and continuing west. (They had departed it for the night, the air by the water chilled cool and the constant rippling of fish and detritus far from lulling to the ears of the guarded.) He had not for a moment thought the beast in the night was of his kind; the Nutlings had not reacted to its scent as if it had any connection to him, and his instincts told him the creature's behavior had not been emboldened by scouting curiosity. However, none of this quelled the question his brain was whispering, of how much the two monsters had in common. And by the furtive stares from the Nutlings as they followed him, they wondered the same thing.
He did not play the ocarina as they went. The group made the greatest effort to be silent, staying far enough away from the bank to avoid splashing, while keeping their distance from the reeds growing on the edge of the brush. Despite their careful measures, a dry twig was occasionally trod on or someone would slip into the shallows or trip into the clattering reeds. Every noise tensed Link's muscles until he was so wound he felt he might pounce on the perpetrator of the next splash or snap forcefully enough to flatten them.
When he first noticed the increase in sunshine finding its way through the canopy, he credited the warmth of noon. It took him some time to realize the warmth coated his shoulders as well. Link looked skyward and gasped. He was so used to seeing rivers of branches spreading layers of leaves blocking his view from the firmament. The trees had thinned the more westward they traveled, and they were finally far enough apart that there were remarkable gaps in between the bushels of green. He glanced behind himself and saw that, while his reaction was one of curious surprise, the Nutlings were appearing anxious. They coalesced into a small crowd as if the sun shed cold instead of heat. Several glanced back the way they had come, clearly considering turning back and going home. He turned his gaze to Navi. She flew low, doing her best to fly in the shadows of the separated trees. Link was puzzled. The clear air filled his lungs, sending bursts of strength through his whole self. He wanted to run and savor the wind in his whiskers, perhaps even climb one of the pines and chatter at the sparrows passing overhead. With an effort, Link reminded himself there was a predator nearby. To sprint of alone was to ask to be lunch. He huffed resignedly and contented himself with a brisk trot.
XXX
Mido was struggling. His head rolled and his limbs ached. According to his spies on the Nutling clan, the Kokiri young weren't faring any better. He ran his tongue over his nose. This was turning bad. He had been inspecting their tracks constantly. Mido knew monsters-and their appetites-well. Whatever had broached the Nutlings' resting place hadn't left for good. In all likelihood, it had simply slipped into hiding and now was secretly following its walking feast. Mido stumbled on his own paws, hissing with annoyance as he steadied himself. The predator was probably growing just as sickly as the Kokiri were, but that changed nothing. Nutling was a taste forest beasts rarely enjoyed, he doubted their stalker would abandon the hunt for relief from the soreness. Mido noticed, furiously, that the cub was experiencing the opposite effect. The further from the Great Deku Tree and his life-granting spirit, the healthier and stronger he grew. Mido shivered at the unnaturalness of it all. He wished Saria were here; not even she could deny what the correlation meant. The monster cub had to go.
"And go he will," he whispered to himself. That was a promise.
XXX
He smelled it before he saw it. A clean breeze, empty of the scents of leaves and prey and Kokiri, something so unimaginable that Link had to stop and consider just what it was he was experiencing. He opened his mouth and the air chilled his tongue. The sensors on his palate tasted something earthy and thin. The Kokiri tumbled around him, many of them meaning to copy Link, but found themselves too weary to stand. Others simply flopped to the ground, too tired to question the abrupt halt. Link barely noticed them. He was staring at the line of trees ahead.
In fact, he was staring at the line because he'd never seen one before. Trees were individuals in a cluster, one leading to another and that to two more. The system had been, subconsciously, the threading of Link's world. Now, here was a row of trees connected to only themselves and those behind, for forward there was nothing. Nothing, Link saw, but spears of sunlight shooting in between the boles of the final chain. He had reached the end of the forest. He could see outside.
The light was strongest across the river; the water causing a break in the boles. A gaping hole spilled the sun into the woods. Through it, Link could see lush grass spread across the ground, the occasional bloom sparking a focus point for his gaze. The closer the river was to the end of the woods, the thinner and shallower it became, and the reeds' journey had stopped long ago, the banks not wet enough to sustain them. At this junction it was little more than a fjord, a trail of water clattering over the stones beneath, rubbing them smooth and polishing them until they shone. It was quiet here, the small brook and dwindling timber holding little appeal for creatures looking for a place to shelter.
"Navi," Link said, his voice sounding boorish in the default silence. "I've a thought. Do you suppose it could be the river that makes the forest end, and not just the trees?"
Navi was puzzled by the nature of his comment. Link interpreted her lack of response as a lack of comprehension.
"I see that the deeper and wider the river is, the bigger and stronger the trees are. I also see that when the trees are growing around tiny little creek, the trees aren't as close to it, and they're smaller and thinner." He leaned down and dashed his paw in the shallow, cupping a pawful of the bed and stealing it away as if to prove his point. "There are lots of streams in the forest, so there are a lot of trees everywhere. The ground has enough water in them to keep them from getting too thirsty. But there isn't a stream anywhere near here, they're all back there," he turned his head to emphasize, "Where the trees are. And the river is so small here, the only part of me I could wash is my toes. There's not enough to go into the ground so that the trees can drink. So they stopped growing." Link raised his gaze to the fairy. "So the forest stops because the river got too little… right?"
The sprite appraised this monster cub. She had heard he was strange, in looks and habits. But this was more than strange, this outward, extrapolating thinking. If asked about the workings of the river, Navi, and any other Deku, would say something about the way it fed and watered the forest's denizens. But to consider not what one aspect does to another, but why and how… It had never been clearer to Navi that Link was not of the forest-dweller. His body, his instincts, his very mind was constructed by and for a completely alien lay. She did not fear him. If she felt anything at all towards him in that moment, the closest description was fascinated awe.
"I suppose it's possible," was the only thing she could think of to say. Her comment sounded so unformed, she felt it an insult to Link's theory. Thankfully, he didn't seem to notice the paling comparison between their exchanges. To Link, what he had said was matter-of-fact, and Navi's reply seemed just as so. Navi realized that he didn't see the significance of his reasoning. Of course he shouldn't, she thought, and for why should he consider something that was natural to him?
Link let the silt drop from his paw with a splashy plop and wiping the remaining sand on his girdle. The smell and breeze from the outside wind were making his legs ache with longing to sprint to it; he couldn't stand it any longer. Dropping to all fours, he loped the remaining distance to the ending tree line. The sun blasted his eyes as the ever-present canopy ceased to exist. He stumbled to a halt, rubbing his eyes to dispel the dazzle. When he reopened them, all he could do was stare.
The feeling was familiar, and yet strange in the very sense of its familiarity. It was similar to the scraping whine that came with smelling a scent he knew he'd smelled before, but couldn't remember its owner to save his life. In fact, that was exactly what was happening now. Seeding grasses swayed in the weak wind, the hiss of leaves brushing leaves behind him accompanying the movement. With the approaching cold season, most of the stalks were white and brittle, making the fresh, green ones an anomaly among them. Link's gaze traveled to the horizon. It was empty. Not a tree skewered the sky. Not a bush raised its shaggy mane. No briars reached its tentacles into the air. He took a step forward. The ground was clean and soft. There were no acorns crunching beneath him, no thorns stabbing into his pad. Only grass, roots, and dirt. He took another step. Then a third. He took a bound into the rustling grass. And he broke into a run.
His blunt claws dug into the loose earth, flinging him forward with each leap. Link's long, sensitive ears, constantly filled with the racket of trees and animals, were free of sound, and he could hear every crack of every snapping stem. He crossed a rise in the peaty earth and turned his stride into a leap. The breeze rushed through his fur, over his ears, between his whiskers, and his paws pounded the ground with new vigor as he landed.
I was made to run.
Link hopped over another small hillock. A hare hunched in the grass, nibbling at the tiny green shoots sprouting beneath the straw-like tendrils. It heard the thundering footsteps and heavy breathing long before the tips of Link's ears came into view, and by the time Link spotted it, it was already fleeing. The cub gave chase, letting the hare's tantalizing scent bathe his tongue. The animal swerved and dodged but Link held ground. With a squeal of terrified relief the hare came upon its burrow and vanished beneath the earth. Link had had no intention of actually catching the creature, although he did stop to snuffle the burrow's entrance with ecstatic mrrowrs of excitement before trampling the grass around him as he launched back into speed.
I was made to hunt.
Farther and farther he ran, his heart beating in his chest, his legs crying out in ecstasy, his entire body stronger and more alive than he could ever remember. And the joy rose into his throat, and Link leapt to his hind legs and threw back his head to unleash a yowl of triumph.
I was made for this place.
As he caught his breath, Link stared towards the horizon. The grassy plain continued on into the sky, but Link wasn't fooled. There was a world beyond that bend waiting for him, and it was full of someone's and something's he'd been missing and whom had been missing him. Link's fur tingled with longing to race away into that world. And he might very well have done it if Navi hadn't appeared at that very moment.
"Link! Link, come back! Something bad! Something bad's happened!"
The fairy was flying lopsided and her shouting was slurred. Link managed to catch her in his paws before she sent herself fluttering into the ground. Navi's blue aura had dimmed to a sickly watery shimmer. He didn't wait for an explanation; any Deku desperate enough to cross from the forest, an act akin to suicide, was a Deku frightened beyond sense, he knew. Turning his back on the screaming horizon, betraying every fiber of his body, a simple thing that had quickly become the hardest thing he had yet to do, Link went speeding back to the distant, dark mass that was the forest. Navi's next words banished any regret he had been feeling, hidden beneath a cocoon of icy terror:
"The Stalfos. From before. It's followed us. And the Nutlings…"
And she lost consciousness.
