Hnnnnnnnggggg
I'm wildly tempted to write a gender-role-switched Zelink story.
She ran.
She ran like she'd never run before, her paws flying over the soft plain grasses. The moon shone brightly overhead, illuminating the terrified flights of dozens of anima.
Her heart pounded with every step, every leap. Her breath burst in pants through her jaws, and she relished the burn of her muscles, because it was a distraction from what she was desperately trying not to think about.
Her tribe. Her people. Her father. Dying, from a disease no one could cure, no one was prepared for. Had it already reached them? Was she too late? And who was that shadow? Why had they been there?
Her thoughts inevitably turned to that wolf--Howler, she'd heard the fox call him. His blond hair and blue eyes, that smirk that annoyed her to no end--and the realization in his face when last she'd seen him.
That this was serious.
She tried not to cry while she ran--she needed to conserve her energy. She focused on that, and that alone, until she skidded into the tribe. Asleep. Unknowing of the danger.
She shifted midleap and ran for her father's nest, gasping for breath. The guards caught her when she stumbled, and she called out weakly, "Papa!"
Her father emerged from his nest, already in his human form. Zelda collapsed into his arms, shaking with fear. "Darling, what's wrong?" He stiffened. "Where's Sheik?"
"I'm here, dad."
Zelda's brother entered the camp just as Zelda pulled away. "Papa, we have to close down the camp. There's a disease--it's the same one from before--we have to--"
Rhoam smoothed down his daughter's hair. "Slow down, Zelda. What happened at the meeting?"
He looked to Sheik, but his son shook his head, expression grave. "It's bad."
He ushered them into his nest, away from the prying eyes of the camp, awakened at the noise. "Come, tell me about it."
It took some telling, and by the end, Rhoam's face was grave. He left his nest, followed by his children, clutching each other. "Close down the borders of the camp," he ordered, and now the assembled cheetahs shifted, murmuring. "No one leaves or enters. All hunting patrols will hunt on specific paths, and all kills will be checked by my daughter, Zelda. No interaction with other tribes."
"Dad," Zeda said, worry pounding at her chest like a drum, "I don't know if that's enough. The virus is already within the territory."
"The eucalyptus," Sheik said, realization dawning.
Zelda nodded. "I picked a clump of eucalyptus two days ago. The spot where it usually grows has been dead for days. I wasn't sure what it was, but now--"
"The virus," Rhoam said, gravely.
"We can't hunt in that area anymore," Zelda insisted. "We need to increase hunts and stockpile food, and then shut down all patrols."
"But we run the risk of overhunting the herds," Sheik argued.
Zelda shook her head. "That doesn't matter! They'll be leaving anyway once they start dying off, and we'll be no better off."
"But what if they're already diseased?" Sheik shot back, and Rhoam sighed.
"Then we'll check them before we eat them and throw away the diseased parts!"
Their voices were growing, and the cheetahs were growing nervous. Rhoam firmly planted both hands on their shoulders. "Calm down, the both of you. We will figure this out. In the meantime, stick to the rules, and stay away from the other tribes."
He sent them to bed to rest, and as Zelda shifted, curled up on her favorite patch of grass, and Sheik laid his head on her stomach, she could only think of one thing, could only focus her thoughts on one person, and it wasn't her brother, or her father.
And it frightened her how much she worried about Howler.
Link ran all the way home.
No stops, not even to eat--at least until he'd nearly choked on a squirrel he snatched out of a bush. Then, he stopped to eat.
But only twice. Food could wait. The virus wouldn't.
Midna split about a hundred feet into the woods, and then Link began to catch scents of his tribe. He passed the tree he'd scratched with Midna when he was little older than a cub, and howls went up from ahead of him.
He burst into the gates and found Impa leaving her nest. He skidded to a halt, lowering his head quickly in deference before shifting. Wolves gathered around, for they had caught his scent and realized something was wrong.
Very wrong.
Link sniffed the air, brows drawing together. He couldn't smell it, but that didn't mean anything. Impa grabbed his shoulders. "What is the meaning of this, Howler?"
Link was out of breath but he pushed the words out. "There's a . . . virus," he gasped, and several wolves growled. "It's a--another one . . . from before."
Impa's eyes narrowed. "From before?"
Link nodded, bent over. "The first one."
A few anima gasped. "Link, what do you mean?" Ilia asked, a light gray wolf with green eyes. In her human form, she'd donned a white shirt and tan pants, and went barefoot. She stepped forward, concerned.
Link had once thought he'd mate with her, but now he just looked at her blankly. "The one that made us," he said, and looked back at Impa, suddenly and violently numb. It was the shock, he figured.
Impa was staring at him while the wolves murmured and snarled around him. Then she grabbed his arm and yanked him into her nest. She threw him down on the mat and stood above him, crossing her arms. "Tell me exactly wht happened," she commanded, so Link did.
When it was done, Impa's jaw ticked and she whirled, snatching a bottle from her shelf. Tossing the contents--a gray powder--onto the fire, she stood there and closed her eyes.
Link knew what she was doing and felt himself recede into his mind. She was calling the oracle.
It must be truly bad, then, if she was resorting to the oracle. Rarely did she ever commune with the gods--the Anima Triumvae. Nothing short of inter-tribe warfare called for it.
Except, perhaps, the virus.
So Link sat and waited, staring at the flames, but not really seeing them. Abruptly he thought of Spitfire, the cheetah.
What a fitting name for a girl who kicked wolves in the nuts, who leapt onto tables in the middle of mayhem to heal a random anima.
What was she doing now? Probably warning her tribe. He wondered what her territory looked like. Did she have a mate?
Wait. Why did he care?
He didn't. She'd probably spit on him if she knew his thoughts. Besides, what was her opinion on inter-tribe mating? Was it as uptight as her border opinions? Would she ever rethink it if Link--
No, he thought, he didn't care. I don't care. Nope. Not him.
Impa sucked in a breath and her shoulders slumped, and Link snapped back to reality, where he definitely didn't care about Spitfire's mating prospects. He stood as Impa let out a slow breath and the flames snapped back to their normal orange-red. Impa turned to face him, and the look in her eyes made him wonder what the oracle had said.
She must have read the inquiry in his face, because she just shook her head. Her mouth thinned into a hard line.
Link felt himself stiffen. "Did they--"
"The gods are silent," Impa said sharply, whirling away. "They did not answer my call."
"Have they ever been silent before?"
Impa's silence was enough. Link took a deep, deep breath and let it out slowly. "What now?" he asked softly.
Impa didn't answer before spinning on a black-booted heel and striding out to the clearing. The entire tribe had assembled by now, all in human form. Varying styles of leather vests and dark cloths met Link's stunned gaze. Dark markings on open skin were stark in the growing light. Dawn was nearing.
Link's own Marks tingled while Impa relayed what Link had told her, and the failed commune with the Triumvae. The tribe murmured together, until Ilia stepped forward.
"What should we do, Matriarch?"
"Close the borders," Impa commanded, raising her voice over the murmurs. "Monitor all hunts and inspect all kills. No fraternizing with other tribes," she added, and now she cast a warning glare at Link. His heart sank, though he knew Midna's tribe would be doing the same. And Spitfire's.
Link's thoughts derailed--or did they get back on track?--as Impa spoke again. "Keep the guards posted; no one leaves the borders, no one goes out unless hunting. Keep watch for any hints of the disease, and be careful."
Then she was gone, the tapestry on her nest opening flapping with her passing, and Link was left to wonder what to do with himself.
"What is that, there? Zelda, come here."
Zelda held in a frustrated sigh and rose. "It's fine, Siles," she ground out. "It doesn't smell, and there's no sign of disease. Let it be."
Siles didn't look convinced, and Zelda resisted the urge to slap him. "We can't afford to refuse every piece of meat that has a speck of dirt on it," she hissed, and she knew her eyes flared. "I know you're trying to be careful, but I've seen the disease firsthand, and this isn't sick."
Siles huffed and waved on Ilayen, dragging his kill through the guard. He dumped it on the kill pile. Zelda left Siles to his job with a warning glare and stood over the pile.
Three gazelles and two antelopes. Small kills lay in another pile next to it, and there was a line at the edge of camp, where Siles made his inspections.
Not nearly enough to sustain the camp. There were at least forty cheetahs in the tribe, and every cheetah needed to eat at least six pounds of meat a day. Zelda tried not to frown, but the lack of food was making every cheetah nervous. They would have to start rationing if the herds didn't--
Zelda whipped her head around, following the sounds of roaring. She darted past Siles and pushed past the lines of cheetahs gathering at the camp edge. Stumbling to the front, she found four lions approaching the border--or they had been, only now a line of Running Wind's warriors had blocked them from coming any closer.
The cheetahs were snarling, the lions were roaring, their claws making deep gouges in the dirt and grass. Zelda pushed past the cheetahs, resting a hand on her brother's head, and faced the biggest of the lions.
"What are you doing here, Mania?" she demanded.
The red-maned lion shifted, shaking his head. "We're not here to fight, unless you want one," he sneered at Sheik, who growled back. Mania looked back at Zelda. "We've come to speak to you."
Zelda's heart pounded; Blazing Sun never sent his warriors to talk. But she affected an expectant expression, a brow raised. "Oh?"
Mania's expression was grave. "One of our lions is dead."
Zelda's lips parted. "Wh-what? Did--why didn't you send for me? We might not be friends but you know I would never--"
"Inside Running Wind territory."
Howls and snarls erupted from the cheetahs around Zelda, but she was speechless. She stared at Mania, disbelieving. "Wh-what did you say?"
"He's dead," Mania repeated, and now his voice gained an edge, one she knew too well, "inside your territory. Care to explain?"
"Explain?" she spluttered, before common sense could take control. Mania's eyes narrowed. "Are you really accusing us of killing your lion?" she demanded, taking a step forward. The other lions growled. "You know we would never do that. The laws of--"
"Fuck the laws, Spitfire! Do you think the laws hold any meaning anymore? We all saw the body at the House! There's a bloody virus going around, and our lion is dead because of it!"
Whatever response Zelda had been gearing up for stuttered and choked out. "W-wait, he's dead by the virus?" she asked, her face going white. "Show me."
"It's too late," Mania snarled bitterly. "We've already burned him."
Tears prickled at Zelda's eyes. "Mania, I'm sorry," she whispered, reaching out. "You must know it wasn't us!"
Another lion shifted, cutting off what Mania had been about to say. "I see you have quite the fresh kill pile over there. So now that you're wiping out the competition, you're taking over the herds, too?"
Mania looked from the lion to Zelda, uncertain. The expression made Zelda want to rip the lion's throat out, and she had to force her claws to stay retracted. "You've never been the brightest, Sticks, so I won't honor that with an answer," Zelda sneered, and Sticks bristled. But Zelda was already speaking to Mania.
"Please, Mania, believe me. This isn't what's happening. We're not killing your lions, we're not taking over the herds, we're just trying to prepare. Surely Blazing Sun is doing the same?"
The mention of his tribe's patriarch made Mania's jaw clench, and Zeld had to wonder if that was a point of victory or if she was beginning to lose.
Mania looked conflicted for a moment longer, glancing between Zelda and Sticks, then finally, his shoulders slumped. Zelda tried not to sag in relief.
But his words made her blood run cold.
"I'll speak to Blazing Sun about it. But this isn't over, Spitfire. I suggest you prepare for war. And for you and me . . . that's over, too."
Zelda had a response on the tip of her tongue to remind him there never was a "you and me", but the look on his face stopped her. It was real pain.
Mania turned away, leaving her breathless, and soon he and the other lions were running away, back to Gold Leaf Pridelands.
Zelda rose from her crouch, feeling a growing sense of helplessness. It wasn't hard to see from here. The entire southern corner of Running Wind was dead.
The virus was encroaching. It was still far enough away from the tribe's camp, but everyday, there were signs that it was coming ever closer.
But the virus nearing the camp wasn't the only problem. A swamp lay to the south of Running Wind; at its center was a massive banyan tree, the center of the entire swamp. Every tree, vine, and bush stemmed from that tree--and if even one of them became sick, it might take down the whole swamp. An entire ecosystem, gone just like that.
Not to mention the waterways. If the virus made it into the rivers and streams, it would spread that much faster. The tribes would be wiped out in a matter of days.
It would help if we knew how far it's spread, Zelda thought, worry gnawing at her chest.
She sighed, heading back to her territory. The bushes to her right rustled, and she was immediately alert. She knew she was in neutral territory, just a mile outside Running Wind, and she was technically unprotected. Tigers preferred this area, along with jaguars and the occasional lynx. Theirs was a terse treaty, very delicate, very unbalanced. Territory was allowed to be encroached upon by opposing tribes, but while it it was not actually claimed by any tribe, even those that lived here, Zelda herself was not part of that treaty. As part of a cheetah coalition, she had no business in this part of the Plains.
She took a slow, deep breath. To her right was a fringe of bushes and a forest sloping downward. Rock formations rose and fell amid the trees, creating overhangs and dens, and leaves coated the ground like a blanket.
To her left was an open area, punctuated by trenches in the ground. Herds of gazelles and antelopes had once grazed this spot, but with the virus--
The bushes rustled again, and this time Zelda heard a slight growl. She stiffened and then forced herself to relax. Giving off a nervous aura would alert them to her willful trespassing. It was best to play dumb.
The bushes rustled one last time before a sleek tiger slid out, followed by a jaguar on his left, and a lynx on the other. The lynx looked at Zelda closely, her blue eyes sharp.
The tiger was less interested in observation. He shifted, making Zelda wish he'd stayed as a tiger.
He was tall and heavily muscled, with black lines criss-crossing over his arms and chest. His clothes were sparse, leaving his torso open and only a thick fur pelt to cover his lower abdomen. He was barefoot, and his dark skin made the gold of his eyes stand out all the more.
"What are you doing here, cheetah?" he boomed.
Zelda fought off a shiver and drew herself up. "Apologies. I was not aware this was claimed territory. Please, forgive me."
The tiger raised a brow. Beside him, the jaguar took a step forward, his green eyes trained heavily on Zelda. "Oh? The daughter of the great White Eye was not aware? The heir to the strongest cheetah coalition in the Plains? I find that difficult to believe."
His eyes landed on Zelda's throat as she swallowed. That plan failed, then. She settled for the next best thing.
Zelda bowed at the waist, cursing her luck and that horrible nickname for her father as she did so. White Eye was not his call sign. It was a sick joke on the part of those who disliked him--a cruel moniker made to mock his agony over his first mate's death, accusing him of 'going blind with pain'.
She ground her teeth. "Forgive me, Sharpclaw. I was just on my way back to Running Wind."
"Oh, I think not," Sharpclaw murmured, and she hated the note in his voice. "I think White Eye will be interested to hear his daughter deigned to visit."
The two anima at his side began inching forward, pawstep by pawstep. Zelda backed up, raising her hands. "Sharpclaw, I must--"
"Piss off, Sharpclaw."
The jaguar and lynx stepped back from Zelda, their eyes flicking behind her. She turned, breathless with relief, and saw Mania stepping into the woods. Officially crossing the border. Sharpclaw narrowed his acid green eyes.
Zelda felt whatever color she'd regained drain from her face. "Mania--"
"Can it, Spitfire."
Zelda felt a twinge of annoyance. Mania kept coming, forcing the two anima to back up, back into Sharpclaw's shadow. He slung an arm around Zelda's shoulders, and she felt herself stiffen.
"Do what you will, Sharpclaw," Mania said, his voice hard. "But know that if you lay one of your dirty paws on her, you'll have the wrath of both Running Wind and Gold Leaf Pride on your heads."
Sharpclaw laughed. "That's not what I've been told. The Seven Sins are not your friends, lion. You consider yourselves so above them because of the color of your eyes. But as you push away those you deem unworthy, they find company elsewhere. And they've got scores to settle."
Now," he said, as both Zelda and Mania stiffened. "What's this I've heard about you being at war?"
Zelda forced herself to laugh, thinking quickly. "You accuse us of what you yourself have done, Sharpclaw. You say the Sins are your friends, but that's a lie. You just use them to do your dirty work. And now you, the great Sharpclaw, believe something a minor grunt tribe tells you?" She shook her head. "How low you've fallen."
Sharpclaw had been growing angrier the longer she'd spoken, and now he hissed, "You will regret that, cat."
"Don't start a fight you can't finish, tiger," Mania growled, eyes flaring. To his credit, Sharpclaw did not back down. "Get out of my territory," he snarled. "And be grateful we did not attack first. This time."
"Be grateful I did not bring Blazing Sun with me," Mania snarled back, his voice raising.
Sharpclaw roared. "Your arrogance will be the death of you!"
"And your violence the death of you!" mania roared back, with such fury that Zelda put a hand on his chest and forced him back. As they retreated, the jaguar yowled and leapt at her.
Zelda's arm whipped out and she raked her claws down the anima's face, slicing its eye. It yowled again and hauled ass up a tree and glaring down at her. Zelda turned and dragged Mania away, heart pounding, away from the screeching lynx and roaring tiger, voices raw with the threat of death.
Not much to this one, just kinda setting the stage I guess.
It's late bc I actually added everything from when Mania leaves Running Wind with the lions bc I was getting ready to upload and I looked at the word count and was like ??!! THATS TOO SHORT WHAT so here we are, several hours later. Enjoy. #sorrynotsorry
Review replies
To StJames1: yesss sexual tension. And it's just the second chapter HAHA
yeah that skinny dude was an Oc. He serves a purpose soon. Only 15 chapters, I gotta work fast lmao.
The bombs didn't affect anyone else bc Hyrule is massive, and there's not many other continents. JUST LET IT GO JEEZ ITS FRICKING FANTASY XD GODDAMN
*sigh* I'll see y'all later. Wish me luck tomorrow, my road test is at 9am _