1.

A gentle breeze rustled the leaves as the autumn winds rolled through the forest from the northwest. The clattering cacophonous applause of the branches of the tall trees always marked the coming of fall. And with the fall came the cold, and with the cold came the rains. This is how it has always been, and this is how it shall always be. Nothing ever changes; not in these woods. By this point it was just regular routine for him: gather wood, hunt some animals—hopefully bigger game this time—gather various herbs and berries. The plan was to have gathered enough supplies this year so as to make the coming winter more bearable, or perhaps even comfortable if all goes well. Most fortuitously, he had caught wind of a herd of deer making its way through the eastern grove. He had already set up several traps along the herd's predicted path, unless other predators get in the way. Even better was that he had already chased out the wolf pack that had taken up station a little further south, leaving little room for his score to be taken.

He already had the ambush plan prepped and ready for initiation. And that was left was for the herd to pass through. He estimated it would be another day or so before they passed through their predicted travel point. He didn't mind the wait since he was a very patient man. Sitting in one location without moving, consuming neither food nor water for extended periods of time was a challenge he was used to. If anything, he enjoyed the quietness. The silence allowed him to focus, empty his thoughts, and listen to the whispers carried by the wind's breath. As the next breeze rolled in, it carried with it the knowledge he sought. His prize was close. It would soon be a matter of minutes, but it now meant it was time for action. He placed his rugged hand along the bark of the tree, appreciative of its strength as their branches bore his weight for a full day and then some. He always knew the arbors of the Faron region were renowned for their sturdiness, but he was grateful all the same.

It was not easy to safely lift a man that was six feet and ten inches tall, mantled with broad shoulders and filled with muscle. Consistently bearing the weight of a man of nearly two-hundred and fifty pounds was not an easy ask, yet the denizens of the forest never complained. They always give him a place to climb, a place to hide, a place to create an ambush. They even shared with him their lumber for his cabin, though he would have to take it forcefully, as was mentioned before: the Faron Woods are famous for their sturdy trees, having stood tall for hundreds of years. But alas, as much as he enjoyed his perch up on high, his mark had arrived to the point of contention. His hunting spear was already primed, its sharpened point aimed towards the earth. His eyes darted back and forth as each member of the herd came into view. He knew which to look for. So far it had eluded him, but then his eyes widened as he caught a glimpse of it. The biggest of the herd stepped forth into view, a genuine prize among hunters. Its antlers alone would go for thousands. Although spectacular in and of themselves as a nice bonus prize, he wanted this beast not for its antlers but for its meat and hide. With this kill, he'd have plenty of resources for months and would last him until spring.

He steadied his breath, raised his javelin, and in one swift stroke... it was done. The creature had been pinned to the ground with such force and speed as the spear bore into it, that it likely felt no pain as it passed. It likely had not even been aware of what hit it. The rest of the herd didn't seem to notice either. Despite the power displayed, it was silent. The herd passed as the leaves rustled once more from the wind. They seemed to get spooked, and suddenly they noticed that one of their own was inexplicably down. As a few of the more curious beasts approached their fallen comrade, a looming shadow flew down from the canopy above and landed on the grass after what could be estimated to be a nearly forty foot drop. The man slowly rose as the animals flew into a panic and scattered in all directions. The rest did not matter to him for he had his prize.

Somewhere in these woods laid a house, or more specifically a cabin. It had been here for a least a decade and a half or so, but he called it home. He did build it himself, after all. After having skinned it, carved off its antlers, and removed the parts good for meals and preserved them with salt, it was perhaps a good time to wash up before he could end his day. His hands still covered in the crimson of his prize' remains and wiped them off with rag he would always resort to for this purpose. Though the cloth would need to be cleaned as well Fortunately, he knew of a creak nearby, one he often came to as to obtain fresh water. Closing the door behind him, he depart for the stream. He knelt down at the nearly freezing waters and cleansed the gore from his rag. As he pulled himself away from the stream, he could see himself clearly reflected in the water's flow. He could see his own long, brown hair that draped from his head past his pointed ears to just below his shoulders. His beard had also become quite full since he last made a point to look at it. He rubbed it a time or two, appreciative of it as he did. With a mane like this, the coming cold would not faze him as easily. With a small smile he stood and squeezed the liquid from the cloth and proceeded back to the place he called home.

As he came upon his cottage, it had become dark enough that the candle light from within was clearly visible. Immediately his mind went to the thoughts of comfort and luxury, taking up a good book by his fireplace and reading until either the fire died or the sun rose... whichever came first. He did not own too many books, what little he had were left over from his father, but he would contently cycle though each one and then start the process over again. He had just finished one book and was finally able to move on to his favorite read, The Evergreen Fables Volume IV. As he stepped up onto his porch, he tossed the cloth onto the rail to dry and reached for the handle of his door, he caught notice that his door was open slightly.

He immediately froze in place. He knew for certain he had closed it before he left. Someone had opened it. And whoever went in was most likely still inside, as he had only been gone for a few minutes. He pondered for a brief moment, who was it? People don't just find themselves in Faron Woods this late into the day on accident. Travelers? Or worse... brigands? He listened for a moment to hear inside. There didn't seem to be any discernible sounds of movement. Had they heard him step onto the deck and decided to quiet down to avoid detection? Regardless, he didn't want to wait any longer. He decided that whatever was inside, he'd do this quickly and loudly. It would surprise whoever was inside and give him a chance to overtake his would-be attackers if they lie in wait for him.

Suddenly he burst through the door as his hulking frame shadowed the door frame. A scream came from the corner of the room, from the small spot between his bed and the fireplace. Within no time at all from hearing the scream he quickly reached over, and grabbed his claymore sword off the rack on the wall. Though it was a two-handed weapon, he wielded it one-handed. He pointed it in the direction the sound came from. Trembling in the corner was a human figure. From the look of it, a female.

"PLEASE DON'T HURT ME! I'M SO SORRY!" she let out, filled with terror and panic. He kept the weapon trained on her but quickly scanned the rest of the cottage for other intruders. After he determined that there were none other than the woman, he shut the door behind him and approached her, his large frame loomed over her as her frightened yelps became more hysterical. As he approached while he menaced her with the sword, she quickly wrapped herself further into the dirty cowl she wore. He studied her carefully. Clearly, this was a younger female. Why she was here didn't matter at the moment, her state of fear would not help the situation get any better. He let out a deep sigh then walked back towards the wall and hung the sword on the wall next to his woodcutting axe and hunting spear, just where it had been before.

He then went over to the other side of the fireplace, so casually as if she wasn't even there, grabbed a small log, and the fire poker. He tossed the log into the slowly dying fire, which caused the woman to nearly jump out of her skin. He prodded the embers with the rod to reinvigorate the flame. As the fire grew brighter, he seemed satisfied and put the tool back to its regular place. By this point the woman had started to calm down, seeing as this large, imposing man seemed to be going about his own business now; almost as if he were completely ignoring her. As she pulled the cowl from her face to get a better look at the man, her vivid red hair became exposed to the light of the fire.

For a brief moment he stopped and looked at her. Their gazes met. She became scared again as his face carried a look of impatience. In the moments of silence, it had quickly become clear that she was in his abode, yet he had not demanded to know why she was there nor had he kicked her out. In fact, he hadn't said... anything. She was puzzled at this, but didn't question it too much. She was much more relieved that he had thus far left her be. After he seemingly accomplished a few more small tasks, he pulled out a wooden platter and tossed a couple bits of sliced fruit onto it. Suddenly she found a fruit platter and fork placed at her feet. Surprised, she watched as this large forest man took a step back, pulled out a chair from the table in the middle of the room and sat in it. He sat there and merely watched her for a few moments of what she felt as awkward silence.

"Eat." he briskly ordered. His voice gave a low growl, it sounded as big as he was, but it seemed to carry a tone of gentleness, though somewhat agitated.

Not to look a gift horse in the mouth, she quickly gobbled up a few bits food provided for her. He could see in her countenance and her shoulders that she had finally begun to relax. After she consumed a few more, his voice echoed through the cabin a second time,

"Name?"

Unsure of these one-word sentences, she pieced together that he wanted to know her name.

"M-Marin... I'm 18 years old."

He didn't particularly care about her age as he hadn't asked about it but it was clear she was in a better, more talkative mood.

He asked, "From?"

"Kasuto..." she gave before her eyes welled up with tears. "Oh goddesses, it's been...!"

She was overcome with emotion. Something awful may have happened to her and her village. Kasuto, he knew where that was. It was actually relatively close to where they were at the moment. Several miles away, near Hyrule's edge where the forest ends. This woman had apparently fled from there shortly before dusk... and she somehow found his cottage despite the low odds of such a circumstance. If anything he was impressed, but his real question was,

"Why?"

"T-there were these men... r-raiders... They attacked my village, set houses on fire... I was told to run and not look back. They... they...!"

He quickly stood and walked over to the window near the fireplace. The window was north facing, he peered out towards the eastward direction. The sky had grown dark and it became difficulty to make out any shapes amongst the trees. However, something he didn't expect to see was a set of torchlights. He clenched his fists until his knuckles cracked. Marin pulled her reddened face from her hands to see the man wear a grimace visible through his beard, and a real fierce-looking one at that.

"Torches," he said, "...The Raiders."

"W-what?!" she exclaimed.

He turned around and headed for the door, saying, "Wait here."

"No please! Don't leave! They'll kill you!" He pulled the claymore off the wall and strapped it to his back. She stood up, scattering the fruit slices on her place onto the floor as she rushed over to him and grabbed his arm. "Please don't leave me!"

He shot her an intense glare, his gaze sent a terrifying chill down her spine. She felt paralyzed by it, but managed to slowly release him and back away, slumping to the floor.

"STAY. HERE," he uttered before turning and disappearing out the door, it closed behind him.

He stepped out onto the grass and made his way to the north side of the house. He stood roughly ten feet from the house. In all compass directions of the house he had place wooden posts as markers at about thirty feet away. It was a clear indication of where he drew the line for the boundaries his property. The firelight drew closer as it soon became apparent that his abode was about to be approached by at least a dozen men. He stood brazenly with arms crossed, and soon it was evident that the men took notice of him. They began to approach more cautiously. After they hit the point of fifty feet from his house, he yelled out,

"LEAVE!"

One of the torch-bearing men stepped forward still. The torch illuminated his face. A raggedy-looking fellow with an eyepatch over his left eye.

"Oy, ye 'aven't seen a pretty little miss come through 'ere, 'av ye? Real cute, red 'air on 'er pretty little 'ead."

Another man further back spoke to the eyepatch man in a quieter tone, "Karlyle, this fella's huge! We shouldn't mess wit' 'em!"

"Eh? Wot' you gon' piss y'rself 'ere an' now, eh? Get lost then, ye' tagger! No spine, any o' ye'!"

It was clear from their accents and dialect that they weren't from Hyrule proper. It was also clear that the brains of this operation, whom appeared to be the eyepatch man, was of the obstinate sort. There was no point to reasoning with men like him, he would likely not be persuaded unless he had a strong demonstration of the consequences of his stubbornness. It also didn't help that the men had kept going forward, now forty feet away. Even worse, at this distance the smell of blood and death wafted from their direction.

Incensed, the woodsman bellowed out once more, "LAST WARNING!"

"Oy, c'mon! Can't ye' jus' 'elp a fella out 'ere?! 'Ave ye' seen the girl o' not?!"

Just then, from the window in the cottage behind the woodsman, a red-haired woman peered out and once she saw who was outside, quickly ducked and hid away.

One of the men pointed at the cottage and yelled, "Oy, Kar, you see dat?!"

"Aye, I did! Well, well, well! Looks like mista' big fella 'ere was 'idin' our little lady! All ye' 'ad to do was 'and 'er over. Now it looks like we gotta rough ye' up a bit. Whadyasay, boys?!"

The men all roared as they drew daggers, axes, and swords from their hips. They began to approach towards the woodsman with their drawn weapons. He unfolded his arms and let them rest at his sides. He watched as the leader soon drew near the first post, marking the property line. His focus became intensely captivated by each footfall. Then, he took one last step and placed his foot across the threshold. Very swiftly and almost impossible to react to, the raider leader was suddenly within arm's reach of the near seven foot tall barbarian whom rushed headlong into the face of the brigand, yanking the gaunt ruffian off the ground by the neck in a one-handed chokehold.

The raider's sword hit the ground immediately followed by his torch, but before it could set the grass aflame it was stomped out by the woodsman's fur-lined, size nineteen leather boot.

"KARLYLE!" one of the men hollered. Ol' eyepatch struggled for air, he gasped and sputtered as the big man's hand tightly wrapped itself around his throat with a vice-like grip strength. Karlyle's feet were a full yard and a half off the ground. All the men watched as the woodman hurled their leader like a rag doll into a nearby tree, colliding with it to a very meaty, crunch-sounding noise. Once he hit the floor, his muscles spasmed and twitched, but not much else. To seal the deal, the woodsman finally reached his hand back and drew his claymore and readied it for pitch combat.

One of the other men ran over to their leader and hoisted him over his shoulders and yelled out, "Screw da girl, deaf ain't werf it!"

In a relatively silent consensus, each man respectively high-tailed it back the way he came. The woodsman remained with sword drawn until he saw torch-light no more. Once he was certain the men had truly fled, he stowed his weapon and promptly headed back inside. He opened the door and found the girl hidden underneath the wooden cot he used as a bed. He shut the door and placed his sword back up on the wall. He haphazardly kicked off his boots and went to his cabinet. Seeing as he was back inside safe and sound, Marin emerged from under the bed.

With a tremble in her voice, "A-are they gone?"

The man grunted in affirmation without even looking towards her.

"T-thank you... so much...I-I..."

The young woman was caught off-guard as she was suddenly hit in the face by a large fur-covered folded fabric. As it fell from her person, it unfurled and revealed itself to be a rather large comforter.

"H-huh?!" she gave as she looked at it and then back to him. He briskly walked passed her, his immense size easily dwarfed her even when she stood up. He then unceremoniously laid down on the cot, the wood creaked nearly buckling under his weight. His legs extended passed the cot's wooden frame and reached the floor. He rested his hands behind his head and shut his eyes. Unsurprisingly, this was all a lot to take in for the young woman.

"Uh wait, am I sleeping here?!"

He grunted. She couldn't tell that time, was that a yes?

"Ugh, where? Do you have another bed?"

Another grunt uttered from his throat, this one seemed to indicate a no.

"I-I can't just sleep on the floor! Is this how you treat maidens in need?!"

He didn't dignify that one with a response.

"Are you trying to tell me I can sleep anywhere?"

He shrugged his shoulders with minimal effort and gave a rather indifferent-sounding grunt, following by a really deep breath.

"This is ridiculous! I'm not as tough as you so I can't sleep on the cold floor, wouldn't it be gentlemanly of you to let me use the cot?"

He stayed silent for a moment before softly muttering, "Do as you like."

"Ugh..." she spat for a moment, becoming indignant as he chose to be unhelpful. She scanned his cot briefly; though he took up almost all of the room on it, she noticed that she could technically squeeze into the space between him and the wall, though it would be rather tight. Her face became flushed red, she had never slept with a man before... at least, not a man who wasn't her father when she was much younger... and even then, she also had her mother with her too. Well, she figured it wouldn't hurt to at least ask. This strange forest man didn't seem to be bothered this whole scenario as it were. Though, could this be the thing that crosses the line with him?

"Can I sleep on the cot... with you?"

He let out another indifferent grunt. She was surprised. She was also somewhat concerned... What if he did something to her while she slept? She thought it over a moment... Had he wanted to do anything to her, he would've and could've done so already. The man clearly had the means and physical capability. Yet, in this whole event, his true honest-to-goodness goal was just... sleeping. If anything, Marin's presence here had no real impact on what might just be his evening routine. This was probably be what he did regularly, regardless of whether she was here or not.

"Welp, pardon me, I suppose," she offered before she took off her boots and removed her cloak, hanging it on one of the chairs at the table. She then picked up the large furry comforter and lifted it over her shoulder. The maiden then very awkwardly made her way onto the cot, making sure to climb over the woodsman and nestle herself right next to his hip under his left arm, right against the wall. She wrapped the blanket between her body and the cold cottage wall, partially draping over his lower body as well. She looked to see if he would react to this strange event playing out before her eyes. He didn't. In fact, he'd hardly budged since he initially laid down. His arms were still above his shoulders as his hands remained rested under his head. At this point, she believed he truly wasn't bothered by this. She then tried to lay down, forced to make physical contact with him. She could feel his incredibly muscular body... he was... very warm. She strangely found it comforting.

She had to adjust herself a couple more times to try and get comfortable. Still, he didn't move. After a point, Marin found a position she liked. The tired young lady glanced over at his bearded face one last time. "Hey... if you're still awake... you never told me your name..."

"...Link."

"Hmm, that's a strange name... But it fits a strange man like you, Big Guy," she gave softly followed by a quiet laugh, still deeply crimson in her cheeks. Not even a second after, she noticed his breathing change. Much to her amazement, he was already asleep. For some reason, this helped ease her stress and allowed her to more easily relax. She very soon drifted off to sleep as well.