Chapter Eleven: Terrako's Nocturne
It was full dark over the camp, with a midnight-blue sky dusted with stars overhead.
Terrako scuttled up onto the highest rooftop of Link and Zelda's cabin. It raised its antenna and listened to the sounds coming from the nearest cabins.
There were giggles of children whispering secrets and ghost stories to each other. A few pillow fights. One of the counselors or other telling the kids to knock it off with the pillow fights and go to bed.
Lights began to go out in the cabins, one by one.
And then, the camp settled into slumber.
After some time had passed, the Guardian scuttled down from the roof and poked its head into some of the cabin windows.
Link was splayed starfish-style on his bed, snoring loudly. Across the swinging rope bridge, Zelda was dozing peacefully in her room.
Down below, the campers were all fast asleep, with the exhaustion of children who'd had a busy, exciting day and were now all tired out.
Terrako scuttled down the stairs and ladders to the ground. It sat there for a moment, observing the night sounds.
Sometimes, Terrako liked to make the rounds of the camp grounds after dark. No one knew exactly why, and the little Guardian didn't devote much of its memory banks to wondering why as well. Perhaps it was something in Terrako's programming.
An owl hooted from a nearby tree, and Terrako beeped and whistled in response. There was the chirp of a nightingale, and Terrako made a few trilling noises.
From Lake Hylia, there came the soothing sounds of waves lapping against the shoreline.
Terrako ambled past Daruk's cabin, listening to the sounds of children's soft breathing, Daruk's literally earth-rattling snores, and Yunobo's quieter rumbling.
The Guardian's wandering took it past other cabins.
"…completely asinine…" Revali muttered in his sleep. "…stupid failed knight with the mumble mumble steals the darkness…"
Kohga was singing in his sleep. "Urgh…ahem…one banana two banana three banana four…"
Terrako continued walking amid the cabins until it came to Sidon and Mipha's cabin, and then stopped.
It heard the sounds of Sidon's snores, Mipha's quieter breathing, and the assorted mumbles, snores, and mutterings of sleeping children.
Except…
No, not everyone was asleep.
Terrako put up its antenna and listened closely.
Someone was awake and moving about in the campers' section of the cabin. And that someone was crying.
Well, no one could hear it with regular ears. But Terrako's sensors were particularly sensitive to very soft noises.
Cautiously, Terrako dug its claws into the ladder and climbed up to the cabin deck.
At the top, Terrako quietly crept along the deck until it could see into one of the cabin windows.
All of the campers in this particular cabin were sound asleep, dozing away in camp beds and hammocks and dreaming of the next day's adventures.
Except one.
Terrako could just see a small figure kneeling by his camp bed, stuffing what appeared to be clothes and snacks into a backpack. The boy was periodically sniffling and wiping away tears.
Terrako searched its memory banks. Komali, the child's name was. The Rito boy who'd looked so unhappy during check-in. There had been an unfortunate incident during a game of dodgeball, yes. And Terrako had observed and recorded several other moments of embarrassment that the boy had experienced during the day. Dropping a lunch tray in the dining pavilion and getting food splattered all over his camp shirt. A lanyard in arts and crafts class that ended up looking like a mangled string. And three other boys from other cabins calling him a "crybaby" in front of everyone else.
For a moment, Terrako debated whether to make a beeping noise, get the child's attention.
No, not a good idea. In its many observations of flesh-and-blood creatures' behavior, Terrako learned that a lot of sad beings did not immediately want others to know that they were in distress. To be found in such a vulnerable state characterized by tears and weeping would be a source of great embarrassment. And Terrako reasoned that the child would be startled or frightened by the Guardian's sudden appearance.
But something had to be done. The child was clearly making plans to flee the camp, most likely at dawn. And that would be a dangerous thing indeed.
Terrako ran some calculations. It determined that the best course of action was to wait near the cabin until first light, and watch for the child to leave, and follow it. And then send a signal to Zelda's Sheikah slate.
Yes. That was the course that had the highest probability of a favorable outcome.
Slowly moving away from the window, Terrako settled down into one corner of the deck, away from the cabin's front door without being seen from the front door, and settled down into Sleep mode.
xLoZx
Oh, dear. It appears that we have a camper in distress. What will happen next?
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