Talon moved with a good natured, arm-swinging, bouncy stride as he led Link and Navi farther and farther away from the forest. I've had enough of these life-changing walks, Link concluded, trying to ignore his pounding heart and sweaty palms. Not for the first time, he shook his head in helpless mystification. What would these people be like? He understood the Hylian settlement wouldn't be anything like the home he knew in Kokiri. Talon was outlandishly foreign to Link. He had long brown hair tied at his nape, rare in the woods, there was only one girl who wore dark locks. Everything about Talon was put-together: his clothes were many pieces stitched into separate garments, the boots he wore clomped over the grass, smooshing it down. No ornaments adorned his face or bare skin. Talon was plain, and yet, the bright colors of his clothes came through even under the orange filter of torchfire. When he averted his gaze from the burning brand and Talon, he could see the ruddy glow of fires distant reflected in the haze of summer over the plains. Thus far in his adventure, rain and storm clouds avoided his progress and lent him a week of gorgeous travel weather. Earlier, he noticed the imminent haze was settling and fluffy clouds churned themselves into low, steely bars. Tomorrow would be rain. Link touched a finger to his flaking body paint, considering a reapplication as a guard against flies, gnats or mosquitoes. On damp nights, they could be omnipresent, and no crevice was safe. With his little horn box of chalky body paint, he protected his skin from the sun and bugs. It was survival. Talon didn't wear paint, Link observed, though he smelled strongly of grease; what kind, he could not detect nasally. How did he deal with the forces of his environment?
They were drawing closer to the hilltop camp. Link's long ears twitched as he picked up the sounds of speech, shouts, metallic clangs and the low, bawling cry of animals overlaid with higher pitched shuddering cries of some other unknown beast. Smells started arriving over the breeze and Link could taste the rangy, grassy scent of dung patties and elfin sweat, the dry reek of charcoal and burning protein. He faltered, catching the loose wrap on his foot in a little gopher hole and nearly twisting tender ankle. The boy folded at the waist, reaching with fumbly fingers and tucked an end of the wrap into the top of his moccasin, and took another moment of peace. Yes, he must keep his chin up, his heart strong. In mnemonic echo, Saria's voice called in teasing merriment, "What is a Kokiri without courage?" A rock to be thrown, Link completed the phrase and closed his mental ears to mingled laughter. It was an old joke, but at least it wiped out the frown from his face. When Link straightened, both Navi and Talon were patiently waiting for him to proceed.
Up another hillside the trio tramped until the slope leveled out and Link's mouth popped into an O! He met the sight of a busy, teeming, noisy Hylian community full of giants who apparently came in every color, size and shape. Huge behemoth men had hair growing on their faces, though not all of them did, and there were different styles! Where could he get one of these face pelts? There were willowy females whose hips swung when they walked and portly women wearing flowing lengths of festive materials and crooked, wrinkled women hobbling around in a well-defined camp and tending to chores Link could not follow. It reminded him of the Clearing when he and his tribemates gathered for projects, where different activities were separated but all complemented each other in their proximity.
The Lon camp was sprawled out over the grey prairie in a collection of regular triangles, looking like a flock of giant swans at rest: white cloth stretched over a conical frame of tall poles, the top portions stained charcoal by a hearth inside, as tendrils of smoke snaked up through the splayed wooden supports. Beyond the structures were other strange devices, some big, square boxes sitting on hoops with wooden rays spanning the diameter and incredibly straight-lined lean-to's that were obviously built, not grown. A light palisade comprised of long wooden poles topped with trays filled with oil, encircled the site with more scattered about inside to shed light in the deepening night.
His eyes lingered on a far away group of people dumping bags of pebbles or seeds into a rectangular wooden box, and then he sighted the large creatures behind them! They walked with a distinctive four-legged bob, heads shaking merrily, longish forelocks, tails and manes swishing as they snorted and smacked their lips. Must be seeds, then, Link concluded when the animals dipped their elongated muzzles into the trough and began munching. Every earth-tone from midnight black to dun yellow, ochre red and bone white was represented in this herd of content animals, and there were so many! There was no room in the forest for such a big thing, and Link judged them to be sublimely suited to the plains. What was there purpose here among camp?
"Why do you feed them?" Link asked out loud.
"They're horses; we ride them," Talon supplied rapidly and discreetly, as the others were starting to stare at the newcomer. Whispers were passed and frank inquiry was blazed on every scrunching brow and half-smile Link could see. Slowly, like ripples in a still pond, the bustle died down and those present eyed Talon and his mystery kid, silent, though the questions were brewing in their mouths, ready to pour at the slightest shift.
Then, someone took notice of Navi, the little blue spark situated at Link's right shoulder.
"It's one of those forest devils!" yelled a woman, panic ramming her voice up an octave.
Forest devil! Link recoiled as though she slapped him. He was no Skullkid!
"Why would you lead it here?"
"How did it get out of the woods?" shouted a rather rotund man, who held two children close with clawed fingers, putting his body between his charges and the sight of Link and Navi.
"Make it go away!" cried a young girl, clutching her face and trembling at Link's wildness.
Well, no one else wore paint, Link snorted, knew his hair was outrageous by comparison to the well-groomed, neat braids and buns or head coverings of the Hylians. How could he help it? Link washed his hair two days ago, so there was no itching of vermin yet. As long as his yellow locks were pushed behind his ears and away from his face, appearance didn't really matter to him. Also, his loincloth and pack were hardly covering enough by a long way; everyone else wore cloth or leather from their necks down. Had they no confidence? Link's spine straightened. He would show them self-assurance.
Others began spouting their concerns and soon, the people gathered around the ex-Kokiri and fairy had tossed themselves into a fervor, clamoring and sputtering and pointing accusatory fingers at Talon.
"Now, what in the world are you talkin' about?" Talon boomed. An instant of silence followed and immediately, everyone clambered to make their voices heard. The man who found Link shook his head and responded calmly and loudly to the vituperative crowd. "This boy is no devil! He's Hylian, the same as you! As I understand it, he lived in the forest until he came of age. Being the caring man that I am, I intended to show this visitor the stretch of Lon hospitality." He spat on the ground, growling, "Yer presented with one unfamiliar speck. I'd like y'all to stand down. Give the boy a chance to see our world, instead'a spoiling his first night! Hardly becoming of adults."
"How do you know he's Hylian?"
"It may be a trick!"
"It's no trick," Link said, adopting a neutral tone when he noticed the alarmed stares of the Lons. "I had to leave. My mother was Hylian, and my father. But she gave her life for mine, so I could live in the Kokiri Forest." In a flash, Link remembered a superstition of the Children. "No Kokiri can leave the forest. So. How did I leave the forest?" It was technically true; no Kokiri ever wanted to leave the forest; it did not mean they could not leave.
"You must be Hylian, then," the patriarch said decisively. "And I invite you, Link, to stay with us, the Lon Clan until you see fit." Talon fixed his smile in place and stared down his kith and kin as their fear, embarrassment and discomfiture cooled down. Many returned to their tasks, grumbling, but unable to deny Talon's bid for generosity. Older women, however, herded curious kids away from the feral one, much to the big guy's dismay.
Link detected from slumping shoulders and the long sigh Talon did not expect this possibility. He assumed everyone would marvel at me, and want to learn more about the legendary forest dwellers. Link sighed. Saria might have thought something similar when she brought me into village life. That turned out well.
"Don't worry," Navi said sensitively, close to his long ear. "Soon as you show your mortality, the natives will have an easier time accepting you." A soft feline grin crept across Link's jaw.
"Sure, Navi," he muttered. "But it was you who provoked them."
"Hmmf."
"Link, I'm sorry about that," Talon apologized, scuffing his boot upon the trampled grass. The boy shrugged. It wasn't his fault the other Lons were fearful of the unknown. He wanted to move on and be done with the matter.
The six people left standing around were brightly awaiting an explanation, and shooting dirty looks to their campmates who would hear the stories secondhand anyway. If their leader had no fear of this boy, how could they? By way of introduction, Talon gave Link the names of his "pards" in rapid-fire succession, and each cloth-swathed man and woman ducked a head as the patriarch motioned grandly towards them.
"Jim." A big man with a broad, square face and a thatch of neat brown hair raised his hand in greeting.
"Cella." The woman was quite rotund and had a merry, welcoming smile.
"Arbido." He was thin and wiry, smelling of dry grass and dung.
"Gerick." Lively eyes were nestled in leathery wrinkles and a wattle of loose skin flapped beneath his boney, protruding chin. Link was aghast! The man looked so old, like an apple in the sun, or creased rawhide. The bottom dropped from his stomach as he studied Gerick. He hoped he would live half as long and become so wrinkly, like no Kokiri could ever do…
"Ingo." Of all the pleasant smiles in the group, his was the most forced and it quickly twisted into a dull smirk.
"And this here is my daughter, Malon."
Link gasped.
Before his very eyes was a tall, ruby-haired slip of a woman who's soft, round face made Link's heart thud uncomfortably, and her wide eyes gleamed violet in the torches' light. He could see the fine, clean texture of her long, loose red hair, and what a color! Link briefly thought of green hair, but Malon wore the very sunset like a glorious mantle. Her eyebrows were arched in expectation and her friendly smile erased language from his brain. So unlike the straight lines of a girl, her body was lean and bandy-legged and fine white cloth and expertly worked leather enfolded those curves of hips and round shoulders.
He stood in breathless admiration, his eyes abstractedly roaming. Navi nudged him with a minute elbow to the shoulder.
"I'm Link," he managed, addressing the group and then added in a thick sort of voice, "The latest Kokiri Champion from the Forest of Eternal Children. Navi the Fairy is my partner."
"Nice to meet you," Navi dipped gracefully in the air. Cella and Arbido tittered. Navi whirled, enjoying the disbelieving exclamations of those who had never seen a fairy, and probably thought they never would, much less appear with Talon. The adults couldn't stop eyeballing the boy, either.
"Talon," Gerick croaked, pointing with his chin. "Did you say the boy was Hylian?"
"Why ya asking me?" the big man effacingly touched his chest and waved a beefy palm at the boy. "He's the one with the story." A shiver of distant thunder echoed among the hills and valleys below the plateau where they were camped. Talon flicked his wrist in the direction of the hub of activity circling around the big fire. "Let's get some hot chow, and see if we can wheedle the story from our new friend. No need to stand out in the weather and dark jabbering about fairytales." He smiled in a conspiratorial manner, but Link wasn't sure he understood the joke.
"Fairies don't have tails," he muttered, grimacing at the cliché joke.
The congregation chuckled as Talon patted the boy's shoulder and led him through a sparse crowd to a central fireplace beneath an awning of thin wooden planks. Stares from all sides made Link brace his shoulders. He hoisted his heavy pack higher, and watched the shocked expressions openly. Most turned away or at least averted their eyes, but Link did not look down or away. Too long in his life was he the object of uncertainty for it to perturb him very much. Even the designs painted on his skin, the zigzags that resembled lightning and the coal under his eyes as the thunderclouds, meant he was like the unexpected storm, an improbability by Kokiri standards. It appeared to hold true, even outside the Forest, Link concluded as a path parted the crowd, allowing the impossibility to pass without coming too close.
Men and women tended big black baskets with thin-handled implements to prod, turn or stir stews and roasts. Four posts held up a grid from which the containers were suspended by chains of linked metal loops over a bed of red coals. Talon referred to the container as pots, and Link marveled at their cherry bottoms that did not burn. Even the water-soaked leather pouches and terracotta cookware grew sooty and scorched, broken or torn. These looked heavy enough to withstand any type of use. Someone handed Link a small, round tray of pounded metal loaded with sweet-smelling seared meat that was ready to fall apart, dripping oil and a rind of crispy, creamy fat crackled on top, odd-shaped legumes slathered in some red sauce in a pool and a big chunk of something brown. He thought it resembled the biscuits made of cattail starch, he remembered deliberately, testing the knife edge of homesickness against adversity. Then, a laugh bound in his stomach he smothered with tight lips. How was this any different than his treatment in the forest? He ignored the unease around him as easily as he wore his paint.
Carefully, Link lowered his nose over the plate, he heard someone call the round thing in his hands a plate, and breathed deeply of the unfamiliar food. His gut twitched and his tongue was inundated with drool. The lean rabbits and fowl he flushed and cooked while traveling were good, but this was meat with fat, and fat was life.
"Do you eat, Navi?" Malon asked as she doled a little more sauce over her meat, breaking Link from his reverie at the mention of his friend.
"As long as it's tender and small enough, I'll be fine with vegetables," she said, hovering over the different dishes and flapping to keep herself level, fighting the hot updrafts of the fireplace. More surprising to Link was that she could stand the high temperature. He suspected she might be tougher than she purported. Now that he thought about it, during travel, he never saw any bird or avian predator make an attempt on her life. What if she said it only to save face? She didn't admit to being afraid or unsure, under any circumstance, and it made Link smirk.
"You can share from my plate," Link offered, proud of the new vocabulary and motioning with the vessel. The Children of the Forest used bowls made of wood, woven of grass, fired clay vessels and some jawbones were deep enough to use as serving dishes, or after a hunt, woven cattail mats were set on the ground to eat the hot meat in a communal, finger-singeing style. These abundant, round plates were something good.
Avoiding the highest concentrations of people gathering around the cooking fires, Talon led his daughter, the boy, the fairy, Ingo and Gerick to the largest of the fabric-covered cones in the residential portion of the plateau.
"This is our tent," Malon told Link, balancing her plate in one hand and the entrance flap of her dwelling with the other. The fabric of the tall, white cone puffed and bucked casually as the wind buffeted it, but it would never fly away; the edges were staked into the ground with thick, dull-tipped hooks. Seams ran down from the top, black and shiny with something, Link did not know what, yet, and the exposed wooden poles at the top were splayed unevenly, wind-tossed ornaments dancing in interesting patterns. The rods radiated from the acme into an ovular ring, giving the tent its signature cone figure. Link did not have to duck in like Talon or Ingo, and he didn't even spill a crumb of food as he and Navi climbed through the portal.
The wind rushed from his lungs when he examined the interior. Such magic, what luxury these people lived in! He ogled at the multitude of varicolored hides and furs piled on the ground, split hides covering the canvas in a double wall, black, red and blue tracery standing out on the wall panels, the broad niches that looked like sleeping spaces hugged the tent wall in a circle and a little hearth warmed the space better than the foliage and thick furs the Kokiri depended on for their homes. The fire provided some illumination, but there was a fire inside!
Link could not stop looking to and fro. It was impractical to light a fire in one's home, and most cooking was done in the Clearing. Only Mido and Fado lived within a stone's throw of the central hearth on the edge of the Clearing. In the cold season, hibernation and a decrease pace of activity were the Kokiri routine. And now, here he was, cozy and hot foreign food in hand, sitting amongst Hylians in a double-walled conical tent instead of alone under some bush or an improvised lean-to with only jerky or dried fruit to sustain him. Talon proffered an open fist, Link slipped an arm out of a strap of his pack, shifted his plate to his right hand and the man set his friend's gear on the first of the sleeping places. The others were parked on the ground around the hearth, waiting for their guest to sit with them.
Picking at his meat and biscuit with his fingers, he was soon lost in thought, with only the smacking of Hylian lips breaking the silence. The meat was rich and of a flavor new to him, Link analyzed as grease ran down his arms. Malon sopped up her "beans" with a corner of her biscuit, eating them in small amounts with her first three fingers in a style Link could emulate easily. The men used sharp knives to scoop a line of beans from their plate and rush it into the hole beneath the nose before the tangy, red sauce could drip into their laps. He picked a single bean off the plate and gave it a squish, amused at the skin splitting and the grainy inside extruding between his fingers. Link got another one, pinched it and handed it to Navi.
"What meat is this?" Link asked as he chewed the last scraps of fat, the succulent meal ender. He resisted the urge to run his oily fingers in the ends of his hair, opting instead to waterproof the upper edge of his boot.
"Beef," Ingo spat.
"From cows, cattle," Talon said in a kindlier tone. "We keep herds of them. They're big, dumb beasts, and it's our job to raise 'em, feed 'em and sell the parts."
"We'll take you to see the camp and herds tomorrow," Malon suggested.
"Thank you," he replied, glad his ignorance was being met with tolerance and his questions resolved.
Something in his Kokiri-ness ticked, and Link's assessment of environment kicked up a staggering issue. He couldn't imagine what equipment would produce so much cloth for the two-dozen tents, let alone the plant from which the fibers were harvested. Did these people decimate the resources needed? Were they respectful of the gifts of nature? The small looms he was acquainted with were good for strips about six inches wide; the panels sheltering them were at least six feet wide. Granted, the tops tapered to about a foot across at the peak of the structure, Link estimated, and then thought his measurements were probably different as well. He reeled, lowering his tray to his lap. There was so much to learn, so many things he could not know! Link understood the forest, as all the Children did, with an intimacy that he had not appreciated before his departure. Here, he was as a new babe, again dependant on only the people around him for his education. There were new environments to study, including an daunting social scene he never would have dreamt of or hoped for, and it was in the bounds of that circle he must learn to dance with the Hylians.
Not only the Hylians, Link smiled. Navi sat on the edge of a box amid two beds munching the insides of the bean he split for her. She stopped mid-bite and they grinned at each other. Together, they would learn all the Lon Clan would teach them, and Link glowed with some hope.
"So, Link, tell us about the woods," Talon prompted, and he set his empty dish on the ground next to the ring of stones encircling the fire. Ingo belched loudly and scratched his belly, reclining on a pile of furs and Gerick leaned forward, turning his head so his good, drooping ear to catch more of the tales. Malon gave Ingo a reproaching glance, but cursorily wiped her mouth and placed her plate with that of her father and uncles.
Link followed suit and sat up. There were still hundreds of questions running the looping trails of his mind, but he was the stranger out here. So, preparing his story, glossing over his short years, Link realized the perfect starting point for baring his soul to these near yet dear strangers.
He breathed deeply, and began, "The Forest of Hyrule is vast and deep, watched over by a Source of the Life-Force, known as the Deku Tree, the Protector of the Eternal Children. And each of his Children, who call themselves the Kokiri, are bonded with a Fairy, a spirit of Knowledge when they are Born from his Branches.
"Except one: me.
"And so, I was very surprised to wake one morning and find Navi in my home…"
