I've been so busy lately! I stupidly decided to start another story! (That makes three including this one.) I was going to write this chapter of The Seven Years before Christmas, but then I both got lazy and put my school work first. (Which is odd, one would think I would indulge in a more enjoyable way to pass my time but I guess I can't complain; I got my homework done at least... But then, I was lazy so I'm not sure about the quality it was in... But you don't care about that, you're not reading this story to hear about my personal life, are you, now?) Well, I can write now, so here it is!

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There were curious faces poking from door ways and windows, it was much to early for all the racket. A man stuck his face in-between the empty boxes (the source of the noise), confused at first and then amazed that the not only horse fit, but there was enough room for a girl!

"Eh-ah, girl! Why so young a one sleepen' in a pile 'a crates and not at home? What's all the noise, too, this mornin'? Wife and I got a babe, no wanten' for him to wake now... By! Look at tha' shoulder! No wonder you were screamin'!" He said in a thick accent. He was a hefty man, all muscle. He dressed in a red faded tunic and dark colored pants. He wore heavy boots and a leather strip with a small wooden pendent dangled from his neck as he leaned over her, patting May to the side as best as he could.

"A nasty wound, where such a one comin' from? Don't see any blood on the boxes, even tha' broken one... None on the animal either, tha' a puzzler now, isn't it?" Aryll blinked at the man in front of her, slightly confused by her surroundings. "Com'on now, we're ganna get you together, a bandage for it, stop the bleedin' an' clean it up." He pulled her to her feet. She glanced around absently, barely noting the pain that shot through her shoulder as the man gently handled her.

"Soya! Get your clean rags! Screamer is hurt! Clean'er up!" Aryll was half carried into his house in a daze. The man's kindness was to be expected of any Hylian but it was in stark contrast to her previous experience. The evil was seared to the insides of her eyelids and she glimpsed it every time she blinked her slow heavy blinks. Her senses caught up with her surroundings at a snail's pace.

"May. . . I don't have any money to keep her in the stables. . ."

"Don't you worry, your horse is fine. Now darlin', could you promise to sit still for a moment? It may sting, but I need you to just sit still." A woman's voice startled her, the film over her mind had not permitted her to notice that she was no longer out side, she was just now finding that she was bleeding heavily. She stared up at the new face and nodded, agreeing without recognition. The woman brought a rag dipped in a healing potion up to the seemingly cursed gash. She had tried to stop the bleeding by the normal physical means, but to no avail. She had even tried stitching her back up like a little doll but her body burnt away the all threads and eventually the needle as well. The wound was obviously made by no ordinary blade and would require magical assistance to heal at all. The woman brought the rag down softly but pulled away quickly when a slight sizzling sound was made at contact. She looked at the rag and glanced at her husband quizzically, who was now tending to a happily gurgling baby. Her eyes found their way back to the blood covered form of Aryll's arm when much to her surprise and great relief, saw that the place of contact had healed and slowed the flow of bleeding. She dabbed at it gingerly, despite it working, she did not like the noises it made when it touched her. She looked at the girl in front of herself staring absently at the opposite wall.

"Darlin'?" She asked tentatively. The girl made no verbal response but turned her head slightly, she wasn't sure if she had truly heard her or not, but she was willing to make her chances. "Darlin'," she started again, "do you know who would do such a thing to you?" Aryll's eyes slowly came to meet her's, she blinked and then responded.

"Yes." She leaned in closer, waiting for Aryll to continue, when she didn't, she asked again.

"Who, honey?" Aryll made no immediate response. "Who did this to you?"

". . . She wanted to kill him, not me. But she wants to now. . ."

"Who, darlin'?"

"The evil one." Try as she might, she could coax no more from Aryll; and ponder it though she did, she couldn't make out what on earth the little one was talking about. Her troubled husband put a hand on his troubled wife's shoulder, startling her from her perplexity.

"Maybe, you should stay with us for a while." he suggested and his wife concurred, maybe she should.