The sun had long risen and morning was well on its way when Revali finally roused, looking exceptionally rumpled, a basket of mewling kittens in tow. The Rito wordlessly handed the basket off to Daruk before stumbling almost blearily over to his gear.
Urbosa debated following the Rito, but decided to give him some space. Instead she watched as Impa and Zelda swarmed Daruk and his newest rescues, exclaiming over each tiny animal.
Revali spent the morning sorting through his weapons; Urbosa realized with a start that she had not seen him do more than minimal maintenance on his gear since their run-in with his fellow Rito. By the way he was scowling, it was possible Revali had come to the same realization. He did not seem pleased as he ran his fingers across his bow.
Grabbing his quiver, he stood abruptly and stalked toward the edge of camp. Zelda looked up as he passed, understanding in her gaze as her eyes followed his retreating back. After a moment she, too, stood. Retrieving her own bow, she started after him.
Urbosa again debated following them, this time giving in to the urge, though she promised herself that she would give them plenty of space-she just wanted to make sure no one did or said anything they might regret later.
She watched as the two set up targets and took aim. Zelda's skill with a bow had improved drastically over the past month or so since Revali had started taking her along to practice with him; the Gerudo was impressed.
Revali seemed to be lacking his usual focus. He took aim slowly, each arrow flying to form a loose pattern across the target that Urbosa hoped was intentional.
Zelda raised an eyebrow at the result as he finished. "You know, the problem with anger," she said off-handedly, turning her attention back to her own target and taking careful aim, "is that it can be just as self-indulgent as self-pity."
Urbosa stopped breathing entirely as the Rito turned to stare at her, but Revali only shook his head and went to collect his spent arrows.
"I've been angry for most of my life, Princess," he said, his tone dry as he took aim once more. "That's not likely to change now, after all this time."
"Why not, if it no longer works?" Zelda asked. Urbosa wondered if deep philosophical conversation were a regular occurrence during their daily archery practice. "Why not let go?"
Revali's arrow hit dead center. "I don't know how anymore," he admitted reluctantly. His aim remained steady. "It's been a part of me for so long."
Zelda considered the Rito's confession as she loosed her final arrow. They spent the next twenty minutes in silence, each focused on their own target, until Zelda looked over at Revali's most recent clustering-tight and neat as anyone, except possibly the Rito himself, based on the way he scowled at the target, could ask for.
"It's better, at least," she said, her tone far more critical than the Gerudo watching them had ever heard from the girl. Beside her, Revali snorted, somehow not even remotely offended.
"Interested in a round?" Judging by the tilt of his head, the Rito was addressing Urbosa. The Gerudo shook her head, unsure whether to be embarrassed to be caught spying or amused that he had known she was there all along.
