The mouse's nose twitched as she paused briefly in nibbling the nut in her paws. She seemed to sense that something was amiss in the world around the tree roots, but the breeze in her face brought no scent of danger. The sky was clear and the air warm; a day like this couldn't possibly hold any threat. Shaking herself briskly, the little rodent returned her focus to her nut, gnawing at the tough shell doggedly. Scrape, scrape, scrape—crunch! She froze again, her soft pink ears stiffening warily. Nutshells did not make a dry, brittle crunch when they were being chewed. But the midday air was silent, and after a few moments, the mouse returned to her meal. Scrape, scrape—crunch! crunch!
Fearfully, the mouse whirled around just in time to see the golden-striped body of a cat hurtling towards her. She tossed the nut carelessly to the side and darted into her burrow at the roots of the tree. The light from the nest-hole was blocked out by a huge paw as the hunter made one last attempt at its prey. A pause. An angry spit. The entrance of the nest was unblocked, and the cat's paws crunched on the dry grass as it padded away slowly.
"Almost had it!" Link snarled under his breath, lashing out angrily at the prickly stems of grass that had alerted his prey. Two weeks had passed since the Gathering, and in that span of time not a drop of rain had fallen. It looked like Hyrule would be suffering through another dry spell. "If it would just rain, maybe the field wouldn't be so dry, and I could actually hunt here today!"
As he padded away from the tree, Link paused at the edge of the stone wall. He was hesitating, just as he had been instructed by many cats, before moving out into more open ground. A furtive glance to both sides—which quickly turned into a long stare when his eyes turned to Kakariko—was all it took to stop his thoughts of seeking out more prey. His tense shoulders dropped, only to stiffen once again in suspense.
Link felt his heart begin to race at the sights and sounds and scents that seemed to flow out from the village. Though they were things he had known well as a Hylian, they seemed to strike him anew at that moment. Burly carpenters darting back and forth: Their hearty grunting and the stinging reek of their sweat. Children screaming with laughter as they played: The fresh odor of the crushed grass smeared on their knees and the soles of their bare feet. Bread baking: The clang of pans and the humming of the woman baking it. He stood now at the brink not only of the forbidden—Lavastar would have my tail if she got wind I'd explored Twolegplace, he thought—but also of the exciting. His paws were itching to carry him into the heart of it all.
The young tabby tom glanced swiftly up at the blue sky over his head, and at the blazing eye of the sun that hung there. I'm supposed to be back at camp by sunset, he reminded himself. If I'm not, Lavastar will probably send a patrol out to look for me—and they'll know I paused here for so long, and if I went into the village. The thought of the punishment he would receive for entering Twolegplace (and not only that, but also the hurt that would surely appear in his mentor's green eyes) made him flinch unconsciously. As thrilling as it would be, he couldn't risk damaging his already somewhat-tenuous relationship with the cats of MountainClan.
It was as he was padding back towards the river that temptation showed Link's mind a new possibility. Kakariko, he knew, was certainly no stranger to mice and birds; in fact, the prey there would probably be much fatter than whatever he would find out on field or mountain. The mice there lived a sheltered life, full of food stolen from kitchens and cellars, with their only fear being the occasional kittypet. Specifically, I'm forbidden to eat food given to me by Twolegs, the golden tabby reasoned with himself. I don't see why I wouldn't be allowed to catch food around their territory. It's a pretty rational train of thought, once you think about it: Prey there would be easier to catch, and more rewarding, too. He glanced at the sky again. Besides, I'll be in and out in plenty of time. I'll just have to remember to wash the smell of the village out of my fur before I head back to camp.
Taking a deep breath to steady himself, Link lowered his body into a compact crouch and began to slink, paw by paw, into the village. He kept his flank pressed firmly against the wall, not only for protection, but as a way to steady his nervously trembling shoulders. Something, some niggling feeling of guilt, threatened to send him fleeing from Twolegplace in panic. Though he had only the best intentions, he wasn't entirely sure if this was the right thing to do. However, despite his misgivings, prowling through Twolegplace seemed like, if nothing else, a grand adventure. I'm going to hunt for the Clan, he reminded himself, hoping to bolster his pro-Kakariko argument. It shouldn't matter where I go to do it, as long as I don't get myself into danger or wind up on another Clan's land.
For all his stealthy creeping, the young tomcat found that once he was past the stone gate of the village, he was basically exposed to the world. Not only had the grass been trimmed to practically whisker-height, but it was also greener than the yellow of Hyrule Field. He was probably as well camouflaged as a black cat in a blizzard—and the fact that he could see a group of young Twolegs playing mere tail-lengths away did his anxieties no good. Link spotted a row of hedges, mercifully close, and bolted towards the safety of their leafy arms. Mid-stride, he heard an excited burst of cries and realized that he had been spotted; the young Twolegs were hot on his paws. Longer and longer he stretched his legs, praying that he would be tangled up in the bushes—roughed-up, but safe from capture—before any of this eager pursuers caught up to him. His luck held, and even stretched a little longer; behind the bushes was a small hollow in the rock, into which the leggy tabby eagerly squeezed himself. He watched, gasping for breath, as the group of Twoleg kits struggled to reach through the brush to grab him.
Heartbeats later, he heard the angry yowl of an older Twoleg, followed quickly by the pattering of the youngsters' feet as they fled. Link's heart was still hammering in his throat, its frantic pounding flooding his ears. The acrid, stinging, shameful stench of his own fear filled the tiny crevice in the stone. His paws were jerking and trembling fiercely at the ends of his legs as he tried frantically to piece the past few seconds together in his mind. He'd been chased, and had holed himself up in what he could only hope was a safe haven. He'd obviously been saved by the older Twoleg's appearance, but how could he know for sure if this strange animal was to be trusted? How would he know when it was safe for him leave?
As the smell of his own fear began to fade, Link realized that he could still smell the older Twoleg, quite strongly. As the throbbing of his heart died from his ears, he could hear its soft breathing outside the bushes. Was it...waiting for him to come out? To protect him from further chasing? To chase him itself? Or was it just standing guard, as if he were some kind of prisoner? Slowly, Link began to untangle himself from his cramped position in the shallow crevice, and in an act of daring he poked his face between a gap in the bushes.
The instant he laid eyes on it, Link was struck by an incredible sense of familiarity—he had seen this particular Twoleg before. The memory came slowly; when it did, it seemed so distant that he thought at first it came from a dream—his hunting expedition with Brownfur and Goronback. The Twoleg's head-fur was white as the Moon, tied back in a sleek bunch that fell across the back of her neck. Her eyes, which were currently focused on the clear sky above the village, were bright red, like the light that came from the crater tunnel. Her furless skin was smooth and creamy-pale. The pelt she wore was like nothing Link had ever seen her kind wear; it clung tightly to her muscular body as if it were a second skin. Something about her scent—ancient beyond all Time, darker than a moonless night—drew the young tom irresistibly closer to her. As the first of his paws left the shelter of the bushes, the old Twoleg's head snapped over to gaze down at him in one sleek, swift movement. Her red eyes locked with his blue.
Link felt his muscles turn to ice, and he let out a sharp gasp at the overall fluidity of motion that her seemingly ancient body possessed. Now that he was close enough to touch her, the tabby tom realized that he did not merely know this Twoleg from seeing her on the mountain a half-moon ago. He remembered her scent, the darkness of which even his Hylian nose had picked up traces. In the silence that stretched between them, he whispered the word that he knew to be her name: "Impa?"
Impa's eyes widened in surprise, only to darken in confusion a second later. Her thin, silver eyebrows slanted down suspiciously. Link swallowed before he mewed in a louder voice, "It—It's me...Link."
To his surprise, the Sheikah nodded. "Yes, I recognized you by your voice," she murmured. Seeing the young tom's bewilderment, she added, "You're speaking Hylian, by the way. Come out. You're safe now—at least, I don't see any immediate threat to your life." She watched as the golden tabby cat stepped warily out from the cluster of bushes that had protected him. A sharp glint of amusement appeared in her ruby-red eyes. "I didn't think I would have to tell you about leaving the apothecary hag alone. What did you do to earn this curse, lad?"
"It's not a curse," Link told her. "I was called by StarClan, and they gave me this cat body." He watched the playful light die from her eyes like smoke dissolving in the rain and wondered what it was he had said that bothered her. He waited for a response—a question, an expression of disbelief, anything!—but received none. Instead, Impa pushed herself to her feet and motioned for her to follow him. Clearly, their conversation was one that should not be carried out where they could be seen talking. Link padded close by the woman's side as she slipped into the shadows behind her own home. Once there, the Sheikah leaned back against the wall and folded her arms over her chest.
"I'm not even going to ask who or what this 'StarClan' of which you speak is," she began in a low, serious voice. "Though it seems important for me to know, there are other things that I must say first. I think I should start by saying how glad I am to see you alive and in one piece. These past few months have been very difficult on me; as the only Sage able to reasonably travel across Hyrule, it is my responsibility to ascertain that the Hero of Time is safe wherever he goes."
"I haven't been far," Link explained, sitting down and curling his tail over his paws as he spoke. "I've been living with MountainClan—a group of wildcats—up on Death Mountain." He hesitated. "Wait—did you say you're...responsible for me?"
Impa paused thoughtfully, her gaze on him never wavering for an instant. After a moment, she nodded. "Yes," she said. "I would follow a trail of your life-force and keep tabs on wherever you went. Thank the Three, for most of your life you've been a smart enough lad to keep yourself out of any trouble that would require my intervention. However, recently, there was something that bothered me greatly." Her stare grew even more intense than before. "Nearly two months ago, I discovered that I had lost your trail entirely. It did not lead out of Hyrule, or to any place within our land. It had vanished entirely. You were gone, and I hadn't the first idea of where to look to find you."
Link frowned. "Didn't you just finish saying that I'm smart enough to stay out of real trouble?" he asked. Impa nodded fairly. "Well, why worry?"
"Ganondorf."
"Ganondorf?" Link echoed curiously, the desert name rolling off his feline tongue in a smooth tumble. He cocked his head back proudly. "Why are you worrying about him, Impa? He was sealed away by the Sages' power—your power!" The young tom held his confident pose for a few heartbeats before he realized that the Sheikah did not share his conviction. Her lips were pursed tightly, and she was shaking her head.
"He was, Link," she admitted softly. "But a few days before you vanished from under my watch, so did he. None of us"—Link knew she spoke for all the Sages—"knew how he managed to free himself from his bonds, but he did. I was charged with tracking him down and recapturing him. But just before I lost your trail—almost a matter of hours before, actually—I also lost any trace of Ganondorf's trail." She sighed. "I spent a full day searching your house for even the smallest sign of a struggle, the tiniest drop of blood—anything to suggest you had crossed paths. But his trail ended at the Death Mountain Crater, and your trail never left your bed. It was as if both of you had simply ceased to exist."
Link dropped his head shamefully. He felt that there had to have been something he could have done to let Hyrule's guardian spirits know where he was going; but what it was, he did not know. Impa continued, seemingly without noticing his guilty heart, "We've met with the Three in the Sacred Realm many times since your disappearance, and each meeting is more frantic than the last. When it was found I could no longer see where you had gone, Saria volunteered to search for you."
The golden head snapped up at the mention of the Kokiri girl. "Saria?"
"She's very worried," the Sheikah informed him. "She thought that since you two shared such close a friendship, she would be able to find you through that bond. Nothing. Darunia thought that because of your connection as Sworn Brothers, he could seek you out—he failed. Ruto, because of her love for you—she failed. Nabooru, because of her debts to you—another failure. Rauru, because no one else could—the final failure. Every Sage has sought you, and all have come back without so much as a single clue to your whereabouts."
Link heaved himself to his feet and began to pace. Some mornings, he woke up feeling so at home that he swore he had been born in MountainClan. Now, with each passing second, he was becoming more and more aware of the life he had once led—his life as Hero of Time. Names flared up in his mind, bright as fire, against the familiar background of his Clan life. Saria. Nabooru. Darunia. Rauru. Ruto. Impa. He paused, one foot in the air. Were the names of the Goddesses still there, buried beneath the overwhelming pile of Clan law, Clan names, Clan ritual—Clan, Clan, Clan! He racked his mind and heart, hoping that he had not pushed the Ones he served out of his life. Impa clearly noticed his inner conflict, but she did not remark on it. Finally, after much pacing and frowning, Link turned back to her.
"Farore," he blurted out, grateful that at least one of their names had returned to him. "And the rest of her sisters. Din. Nayru. Wouldn't they be able to see me? After all, their watch is absolute—they see everything there is in Hyrule."
"And that's where things get difficult," Impa answered dully. "We thought they were able to see all. Now, however, it seems that two things are able to evade their gazes: Ganondorf, and you."
Link felt his hackles rise and his tail start to bristle. His ears pressed flat to the sides of his head; his lips parted in an angry snarl. "The Three can't even see me?" he howled in disbelief. Impa's body gave a small jerk at his yowl; she was still as stone for a heartbeat before releasing a silent sigh. The tabby tom began to pace yet again, his banded tail lashing in irritation. "How could I have gone beyond the sight of the Goddesses? I'm still in Hyrule—never left it, to the best of my knowledge!"
"It doesn't make any more sense to me than to you," the Sheikah pointed out, somewhat sharply. "But do keep your voice to a reasonable level, Link. I took us back here so that the people of Kakariko would be spared the knowledge that the legendary Hero of Time is now a gangly tabby cat." She knelt down and rested her long-fingered hand on his shoulders to settle him. Link quivered at her touch, but she kept her hand firm. "Your anger is understandable, but it is misguided. It is not the fault of the Sages or the Three that you momentarily vanished from our sight; perhaps it has something to do with your feline form. No one is at fault here, not to my reasoning."
Link heaved a sigh and shifted his eyes away from hers. He knew he had lost his temper with the Shadow Sage, and he could not bring himself to meet her gaze. He murmured a quiet apology for his actions. He heard Impa's sigh, felt the breeze of it ruffle the soft fur on his ears.
"Our only concern is for your safety," she murmured in a gentle voice. One of her fingers reached up and stroked the top of the former Hylian's head lightly. "Perhaps I could not find you because I was searching for a Hylian, which you no longer are."
Link jerked his head up suddenly. "A few weeks ago, I saw you on the Death Mountain Trail," he spluttered. Impa nodded.
"Darunia said he combed the mountain looking for you, but that he could not—for his peoples' sake, you understand—search the Dodongo Caverns."
The tomcat let out an amused mrrow. "If you'd only looked up, Impa, you would have seen me!" he mewed. "MountainClan lives on the side of Death Mountain—our territory covers the whole thing, too. That's where I'd be, if you ever needed to find me." The Sheikah smiled faintly and nodded. Then, her face grew serious again.
"This whole time we've been speaking, I've been trying to see you through the eyes of a protective Sage," she confessed. "I must tell you: I can't, not even for an instant. I hear your voice and see your face—but for all I can tell, you could very well be a cat who's learned to speak Hylian." She turned her eyes upward, to the smoke-ringed peak of the mountain. "I sense no evil surrounding your transformation, only an unfamiliar power. Power can be dangerous in and of itself, but when it is of unknown origin we must be all the more careful. You say a 'StarClan' gave you this form?"
"Yes," Link replied. "They're kind of like the wildcats of Hyrule's gods and goddesses. Apparently, I've been chosen to save the Clans—those cats—and the way to do it was to join them as a cat."
"Gods and goddesses?" Impa repeated.
"Well, that's how one of them described it to me," Link admitted, remembering the blue she-cat. "StarClan protects the cats, bless them, care for them...Do you know, the cats even take the name of StarClan in vain like Hylians do the Goddesses'!"
Impa gave a short, soft laugh at this, her crimson eyes focused on some distant idea. Her smile slowly melted away, to be replaced by a serious line. Clearly, something Link had said had resonated with her, though just what the apprentice was unsure. He watched her face for any look of comprehension, some sign that she had pulled whatever faraway thought she had been watching closer to her. Impa sighed, removed her hand from his back, and stood up. Her eyes were sympathetic as they met his.
"I think it's only fair to warn you of something, Link," she said in a low, serious tone of voice. Each word was carefully measured, as if she wanted to put the exact same amount of meaning into every piece of her sentences. "When you lived under the Goddesses' eyes, they protected you fiercely. You were, in a sense, immortal—like the proverbial nine-lived cat. Your destiny was not fully played out yet, and the Three were determined to keep you in this frame of being until it was—by hook or by crook. That explains why you have, in the past, survived injuries and falls and all variety of things that would have killed a lad like you."
Link nearly lost his footing at the revelation. He thought of all the times when he knew he should have, by all rights, been dead. Going down under the claws of a mob of Stalchilds and finding the strength to limp, bloody and battered, three miles to the Ranch. Falling from the battlement of Hyrule Castle to land in the courtyard below and walking away with nothing more than a sore ankle. Slipping from the bridge in the Gerudo Valley, going under the roaring waves, and miraculously regaining consciousness on the shore of Lake Hylia. Being knocked into the lava of the Crater to land, inexplicably, on a stone in the middle of the molten rock just large enough for his own two feet. Impa continued, her voice as calm and even as ever, "You survived because you were needed. The Three watched out for you on your quest, and protected you whenever your life was in peril. But all of this would only come to pass if they could see you to save you."
"So I'm on my own," the lean cat meowed, somewhat dubiously. Impa sighed.
"You are on your own in the worst of ways," she informed him sadly. "I fear for you, Link. Ganondorf is just as invisible to us as you are—he could very well be lying in wait for you, hoping to end your meddling in his affairs once and for all! And perhaps the worst of it is that, should this be the case, none of us could protect you." Link shuddered as what he was being told finally sunk in. "I know. It's a rather grim portrait, and I'm sorry for having shown it to you—but I need you to understand something, Link. You could be in terrible danger, on your own and without divine aid."
Link bowed his head in silence, as if the full weight of his new knowledge were slowly dragging him to the ground. Impa sighed softly. "But I haven't given up on you," she told him sternly. "I said earlier that you've proven yourself smart enough to stay out of mortal peril far better than the average warrior who's had destiny thrust upon them—and your situation may not even be all that bad. Ganondorf might not know you live as a cat; if that is the case, he probably won't be able to find you." She knelt down and placed a finger under Link's muzzle, raising his eyes to meet her own. "I will do my best to watch you, now that I know what shape you live in and where you will be spending your time. But you must be careful yourself. Trust your instincts, and do not hesitate to seek me out here if you are afraid. I will guard your life with my own." She smiled, a little grimly. "That is my task, after all."
Her offer of protection was tempting, but as hard as it was to turn down, Link knew he had to. He gave his paw a nervous lick and scrubbed his face with the backside of it distractedly. "It's kind of you to say that," he mewed, "but I can't accept that offer, Impa. My place is with MountainClan. You spoke of destiny earlier—I think some part of my destiny lies with them." He paused. "However, if anything does come up, can I count on you for guidance?"
The Sheikah nodded. "Of course."
"Thank you." Lowering his dusty paw back to the ground, Link cast another glance at the sky. He needed to set out now if he wanted to bring down enough prey to make Lavastar happy—not to mention the tedious business of washing the smell of Twolegplace out of his fur. "I should probably be going now."
"I will escort you from the village myself," Impa said, pushing herself to her feet with ease. Together, the unusual pair of lanky cat and sleek Sheikah headed toward the stone gate. "It's good to know you are still alive. The others will be relieved to know that you've been found, too. Who knows"—she cast around to see if anyone was within hearing range—"perhaps the Three will be able to see you now."
"And if they can't?" the tom queried hesitantly.
Impa hummed thoughtfully. "Then I suppose we will just have to place your life in the hands—or paws, as the case may be—of StarClan." The MountainClan tom nodded in agreement, although he could tell from the tone of her voice and the look in her eyes that it was not an option she favored.
It was at the gate that Link surrendered himself to a feline impulse. Without thinking why it was a good idea, the young tabby rubbed his cheek against Impa's shin. He padded forward and let his flank rub up against her leg; before he knew it, he was weaving back and forth, brushing his pelt over her calves. The Sheikah laughed aloud at the sight and knelt to give the former Hylian a parting stroke. "Be careful, will you?" she asked, tugging one of Link's long ears in a playful, almost motherly, fashion. "Don't get too adjusted to this cat life, either. Once you've served your duty to these Clans, the rest of Hyrule may need you back." Link nodded, and after one last cheek-rub, he left, racing towards the open field as fast as his paws could carry him.
Once he reached the bank of the river, the tom skidded to a stop and studied his reflection carefully in the calm water. He sought anything—a glint in the eyes, a turn of the face—that would reveal who he truly was: a Hylian. But, try as he might, Link could see nothing but a handsome young cat, an apprentice warrior of MountainClan. No Hylian had a tabby pelt, or ears that were covered in fine fur. No Hylian had a soft, pink nose, or whiskers, or a tail that curled out behind their body. They walked on two legs, not four. Their steps were loud and heavy, not smooth and graceful. They killed their meat with tools their own hands had made, not claws and fangs their ancestors had grown over generations. Link, who had been studying himself from the side, sat down with a quiet sigh. His mind was a vicious, confusing whirl of past, present, and future. Who guided his paws—StarClan, or the Three?
At first, Link had clung to the Goddesses like a burr. Like his name, they were one of the few things he had left of his old life; to forget them would be like losing a part of that past. But, as time had worn on, he found it so much easier to accept StarClan as his protectors—to place his life in their paws, as the Clans said. Oaths like Great StarClan! came to him as naturally as breathing now; never once did he invoke the names of the Three. He could recite the warrior code from memory, and find meaning in every word he spoke. He could easily subdue Blazingpaw in their mock battles, and was almost as good a hunter as Ghostpaw. He never felt lacking in his days, except when cats like Swoopingclaw openly mocked him. Living as a Clan cat had given him such a wonderful sense of family that he had been perfectly content to forget his days of being shunned by the Kokiri.
But having spoken with Impa, Link was painfully reminded of the life he had once lived. He had grown up on stories from the Great Deku Tree, stories of creation, of life, of love, of power, wisdom, courage. It seemed so hard to believe that the Goddesses in those legends were still alive and present—and trying to care for Hyrule and for him! Though he had forgotten them, the keepers of the Sacred Realm had certainly not forgotten him. The Sages were his friends—all of them. The Goddesses had saved his life time and time again. He couldn't help feeling a little guilty at how carelessly he had tossed his old beliefs aside in lieu of the new ones.
He had a choice to make: Should he stay with StarClan, or try his hardest to return to the Three? His heavy paws sunk silently into the soft sand at the river's edge as he began to pace in thought. The Three watched over all of Hyrule, that was sure—but did they also watch out for the Clans? Did they work in some kind of divine partnership with StarClan? Link stopped, frowning impatiently. He glanced around the quiet field and mewed under his breath, "Whoever is watching me—send me a sign! I need to know what's right."
He waited for what seemed like ages, but neither a heavenly cat nor an unearthly woman appeared to him. As he sat in the early afternoon sun, the tabby began to wash, hoping to rid his pelt of the clinging reek of Twolegplace. The rhythmic motion soothed his irritated mind, and he eagerly lost himself in the steady, familiar activity. After a number of compliments at the Gathering, Link felt he had become a little vain about the state of his fur, often settling down to wash three or four times a day—the same as most cats, he failed to realize. He ran his tongue up and down the length of each gangly limb, between his pudgy toes...He almost wished he had another cat here to help him with his back. Shrugging nonchalantly, the young cat twisted himself around to groom. A soft, warm breeze rippled his whiskers, bringing the smell of some herb to his nose.
Sage.
Curious, Link abandoned his washing and followed the scent until he found the bush. It lay near the head of one of MountainClan's mountain-to-field trails, its gray-green leaves rustling in the light wind. The golden tabby stuck his nose into the fragrant plant, inhaling deeply to calm himself down. His mind began wandering, and he wondered if this could possibly be the sign he'd asked for. But if that was the case, did that mean that the Three were speaking to him? After all, they sent him to find a sagebush...Sage. Sage. Sage like Impa. Sage like Saria. Retracting his face from the aromatic leaves, Link ran his tongue over his muzzle. He marveled at how well he could taste the sage as he licked his whiskers. It really was a tasty, fragrant plant—he contemplated chewing the leaves to wash the taste of Kakariko from his mouth. But, really, the flavor of sage was already coating his whiskers, so he could probably get away with just—
Sagewhisker!
Medicine cats were StarClan's voice to the living, weren't they?
Impa had said that the Three were unable to see him. Link began to wonder if perhaps both beliefs were valid...depending on the species of the believer. What if the Three watched over all of Hyrule, but gave the cats to StarClan to protect? Or, maybe StarClan simply claimed the cats as their own, and the Three were left with all the rest of the beings of Hyrule? Either way, Link was fairly sure who would have the most influence in his life now. His Goddesses couldn't see him to protect him. He was a cat, somehow invisible to them—but not to StarClan. The Three were real, this he knew...but maybe they weren't as real to him now as they used to be. The golden tom gazed up at the bright, clean sky above him, blue eyes narrowed in thought. He made up his mind for the most part, although he did leave opportunity for change in the future should situations shift.
For here and for now, Link would follow whatever path StarClan led him down.