The darkness was relatively easy to get used to, and Link finds the Depths silence somewhat relaxing. He'd be willing to spend more time down here if there weren't so many blighted monsters roaming. They're aggressive, stronger and more resilient down below—he chalks it up to the constant corruption seeping into them.
The only issue with the current situation outcome is that he has yet to find evidence of where and how the monsters are escaping the Chasms. From what he can see, the only way to escape the Depths is with his Ascension ability or by building a flying machine.
Both of which are strictly abilities only he has access to. He has not seen a Bokoblin building anything larger than a sword with a rock lodged on the tip.
There are no signs of breeding, either. No nests, only strongholds carved in the shape of giant skulls and mining zones where the animals dig up any Zonaite ore they find.
It's irritating how little he has gleaned from this excursion, and he is trying very hard not to blame it on Josha.
"Well, I got the pictures," Robbie states as he passes the Purah Pad to Link, his hands on his frail hips as he stares disappointedly up at Josha. "Didn't need to, 'cause here you are, I guess. Why are you down here, young lady? We told you no."
The girl does not respond, instead focuses on kicking gravel. Purah clicks her tongue, scowling at Josha and answers for her. "It doesn't matter. She's already here, so let's get ready to leave."
"Just gimme a minute," Link grumbles, fumbling with the new slate. It's a bit different from the old one, foregoing direct buttons. He has no idea how to navigate it.
"It's a touchscreen, you neophyte." Purah groans. "Put your finger on the screen. Drag it across."
Link still doesn't know what that means. Finally, he shrugs and bashes his fist against the machine, hoping to get it working.
"Idiot!" Purah cries, gliding over to him and snatching the Pad from his fingers. She looks it over, scanning the device, fearing it's broken. "You're like a Bokoblin! Can't you follow simple directions?!"
"I dunno why you removed the buttons," he shrugs. "Seems more idiotic to me."
"Yeah, well, stupid is as stupid does," Purah offers one last snipe before she finds a rock to sit on further away from them. "Josha, c'mere. This is a good chance to show you how the Pad works."
Josha trudges over, dragging her feet with her head held low. She falls onto the rock next to Purah and immediately gets excited—her attitude shifts as the second technobabble begins.
Link watches with Robbie. His theory about Purah's relationship with Josha comes to a head, and he leans down to whisper to the geriatric researcher.
"So. Purah has a daughter?"
Robbie immediately flicks his gaze up to Link, who stares back impassively—only raising his eyebrows when Robbie shifts his eyes back and forth.
"Uh, well," the rocker moves from side to side. "Um… damn, nothing gets past you. She likes to call you an idiot but often forgets how observant you are. Quiet and always watching."
Link weighs the words, agreeing with them as he lolls his head. "So?"
Robbie sighs. "It was before you awoke, obviously. Josha's only thirteen."
"Who's the father?"
"That's why she keeps it a secret—there is no father. She was old and wanted an heir, someone to pass everything onto, and you know Purah,"
"All matters of the heart lay with Sheikah tech," Link finishes for him. "I know." Silence falls like a blanket over the two men as they look at the researchers chatting away, lit by the strange Light Root Mineru told him to touch. "She really loves her."
"More than anything. When Impa found out, Purah cried like a baby." Robbie chuckles. "I heard she went to Kakariko of her own volition recently?"
"Yeah. I was surprised."
"Impa was too at first, but immediately fell in love with the girl and the idea of being an auntie. Purah was just afraid Josha would be an outcast for not being 'naturally' born." He sighs. "We were too old—hell, I still am, but it's different for men. I had Granté easily. My wife is half my age. Purah never thought she'd get the anti-aging treatment to work. If she did, I wonder if Josha'd…" the man trails off before shaking his head. "Nah, she's already here. No point wondering, right?"
"Yeah…" Link mutters before spinning back to the old man. "Can't believe you're a cradle robber. Y'know how creepy that is?"
"I—s-she—Jerrin proposed to me! I was content living alone and—!"
"I'm teasing you."
"Geh." Robbie freezes before all the stress leaves his body like a weight. "Maybe smile or something. I can't tell when you rock that dead expression."
—
As the group moves to leave after Purah completes her check of the Pad, Link pauses before what looks to be an ancient temple.
"Hold for a moment," he mutters before heading toward it.
"We gotta go!" Purah complains. "I have so much work I need to catch up on!"
"Nobody asked you to come down here, you know." Link shoots back, holding his hand out to the now-expected green barrier that glows in the darkness of the Depths. He holds his new Zonai hand out to it while Purah shouts obscenities back at him he doesn't care enough to listen to. The screen explodes in colourful liquid, and what used to be a wall splits apart into two slabs of stone—a door sliding away from his barred entry.
"A depot," Mineru says. "I forgot about these."
"Anything useful?"
"Absolutely. The devices in here are Zonai tech and very powerful."
He steps inside, the darkness smothering him, only for ceiling lights to flicker on one by one. Shelves filled with cannons, gliders, emitters and weapons line every corner of the room.
Link lets out a whistle.
"This is… huge."
This might solve the security issues at Lookout Landing. He sets out to collect everything he can, placing what Mineru recommends into his bag. Considering the bottomless magic cast upon it, he finds it funny that Mineru doesn't comment on his bag's nearly-infinite storage. He will wait until she does when he convinces her magic is real.
After all, if something can fit through the mouth of its sack, it will be carried as if it weighed nothing.
"The cannons will solve the siege problem, especially if you can connect them to a construct. The AI can handle the control, and they'd be fully autonomous, attacking anything I program as an enemy."
"A mortar," Link snaps his fingers. "If we hook this up to the Skyview Tower, it'll have coverage of the entire Field and Castle. Holy Hylia, this is amazing."
The only thing these weapons don't solve is the Gloom Infection. His excitement quashes with the thought, bringing him back down to earth immediately.
"This will save a lot of lives," He says. "But we still have a lot more to worry about."
—
"The Gorons would be a great boon toward our troop count," Hoz leans atop the meeting table set up using the many dining tables going unused in the mess. "Not to mention the ingenuity they bring with their metalwork. General, I petition Death Mountain as your first stop toward fixing the regional phenomena."
Link, forgoing the threadbare trousers and archaic toga for more conventional armour—his old Hylian tunic and lowered hood scrounged from a forgotten trunk—rubs his scruffy chin as he contemplates Hoz's desire.
"I disagree," Hina, the medic he met earlier in the day, leans forward and jabs her finger into the wood table. "The Zora have healing magic. With their help, the soldiers can theoretically recover twice, if not three times as fast as they are now. Isn't that what you all wanted with this conscription thing? More bodies?"
A civilian usually wouldn't have much say in internal military affairs, but this situation is abnormal. Link asked for her input, desiring to consider everyone's opinion on where he goes first. They've all already agreed to delegate him as the problem solver. The question is what region is most important.
A discussion he wishes he could kibosh immediately and go save everyone. But he was arrogant before, and look where that got him.
"It's not about bodies, ma'am." Hoz refutes. "It's about keeping our people safe. That's why we don our tabards—with the Gorons, we can reinforce the Citadel and get a whole battalion of battle-ready shock troops."
"What about the Rito? Gerudo?" Purah finally speaks. "Are they not important enough?"
The doctor winces and glances down at the wood while Hoz offers a slight, sombre grimace.
"I understand your feelings, Doctor, but we must be realistic."
"The Gerudo are skilled warriors," Purah adds. "Same with Sheikah. Why aren't we getting them on board?"
"We don't even know if they're… alive," Hina forces the words out. "It'd be more effective to go to a region we can faithfully believe could survive such a catastrophe."
"The Gerudo have lived in their desert for thousands of years without assistance from anyone," Hoz plays the other side. "I believe they're still chugging. It isn't a matter of unknown but of distance. It's unrealistic to send a platoon with relief supplies to such a faraway city."
"And the Sheikah?" Purah narrows her eyes. "You think they would keel over and die?"
"That's not what I'm saying—!"
"Enough," Link taps his hand on the wooden surface. The new extremity thuds unnaturally against the furniture, halting any more discourse. "Arguing will get us nowhere. If distance is the main worry, Rito Village should be my priority. Eyes in the sky would be of better use than shock troops at this time, and they can double as couriers."
"But—"
"Purah, you mentioned a blizzard in Hebra?" He powers past, trying to figure out how much he needs to pack cold-resistant foods and clothes.
"General, with all due respect, Hylians and Rito have held a constant hostility bordering on contempt," Hoz argues in his case, moving away from the table and staring straight at his commanding officer. "I believe it would be unwise to send a unit of armed troops into their territory."
"I'll be going alone." Link states simply. Immediately concerns begin to flash across the Captain's face, joined by a burgeoning disagreement forming along Hina's own. Purah is the only one who nods with him—Link continues with his plan. "The Rito and I have a mutual respect—I quelled the threat from Vah Medoh, and they believe me to be the…" he clears his throat, grimacing as he forces himself to push out the coming words. "They think I'm the new King of Hyrule. Chief Kaneli already swore fealty to my name, and Teba—the new chief—promised to hold credence to his oath."
Link desperately desires to shrink in on himself when they shift to look at him and disappear. Whenever becoming King arises in a conversation or discussion, he feels like a young squire who failed to polish his teacher's armour.
"…well, that works out." Purah breaks the silence. "When do you plan on leaving?"
"Now," He grunts, patting the table and turning to leave. "Captain Hoz—you're in charge."
"General, what about Scorpis? He's still awaiting judgment."
Link pauses, biting his lip. "I leave that to you. Considering the service you've provided to the military in my absence, I am naming you Marshal of the Army. While I am away, you have full command of matters concerning your station. Do not let me down."
With that, he entirely turns and leaves the room. Hoz stands shell-shocked, wondering if he heard Link correctly or not.
"Congratulations on the promotion, Marshal." Hina pats his back, the sound of which actually thuds. "Since you're in charge, can I leave my requests for supplies with you?"
Hoz barely reacts, and Purah moves in as well.
"Ah, me too! I have a huge list of recipes requiring specific ingredients and equipment I can't get alone! I still have to get the Zonai tech all set up along the points of contact where Linky said and…"
The speaking fades as Link marches through the cobblestone hall, finally finding himself motivated by a goal standing before him. He holds out hope that this journey will lead him back to Zelda.
—
The road west from Hyrule Field is long, dusty and lonely. His sword on his back doesn't offer comfort. It's just a hunk of steel sharpened and waxed to a honed point. His feet carry him forward, with no Epona to keep him company along the empty journey.
The sky is blue, dappled with fluffy white clouds, only interrupted by a massive cumulonimbus spiralling like a giant tower above the Hebra horizon in the west. It is not a good sign. A huge storm cloud like that screams snowstorms.
Rolling hills of the region shift to rocky slopes, pock-marked stones that look alien, almost necrotic with their limestone yellow stain. The greenery of Hyrule field fades to chunky sand and gravel as he crosses Carok Bridge and the babbling Regencia River, nearing the Breach of Demise. A gust blows through his hair, fluttering the lowered hood behind him—the wind comes from the west, bringing a brisk chill vaporizing his breath as he exhales in discomfort.
His gaze shifts, spying for an outcropping to show him what's coming. After looking around for the perfect spot, Link climbs a nearby hill for a better vantage point. It's fairly steep and tall, but he makes it up to the top in record time. When he hops to the precipice, the wind blows harder, threatening to blow him off his feet.
"This is not a natural storm," Mineru says. "The winds carry the Spirit of Everlasting Cold. It normally isn't so… violent."
Link was getting used to the quiet and nearly forgot about his companion, so Mineru's sudden speech almost made him lose his footing. Luckily, the incline he's stood on isn't as steep as others.
"There's a Stable near here. We'll stop in and check the word around the province." He then deftly slides down the rock face, kicking up dirt and gravel as he nears the flat ground. When he does, he again begins walking to where he remembers the stable that is now his goal. Once again, the quiet pulls him into discomfort, and he longs for a decent conversation. So, he strikes one up. "So… what is this Spirit you mentioned? I've never heard of those—aside from The Children of the Forest, of course."
They don't really count. The Korok Children and their Tree Father is a legend everybody knows. Link's just had the fortune, or misfortune if one counts the annoyance he gets when he lifts up a shirt only to find a Korok hiding inside to see them.
They're cute yet mischievous little creatures. One legend says not to make them cry; it's an omen of awful proportions. Lakes will flood, and trees will attack. Terrifying power is hidden within their ancient forest.
"Yes, the Kokiri." She huffs a laugh. "Well, I'm sure you know the story of this land's creation?"
Kokiri? What the heck is—no. No.
"Yes," he nods, trying very hard not to follow up her answers with more questions. "Din, Nayru and Farore."
The road winds in one last bend, where he finally spies some travellers moving to and fro wherever they come and go. It's somewhat heartening, seeing people out and about—Hyrule Field had no travel whatsoever, something he blamed Scorpis for ruining.
Now, he blames the Gloom.
"Indeed. Where there is life, there are spirits. Din's fire created the land, and Farore created its inhabitants. However, when Nayru created law, it also brought with it death. Thus, spirits."
Link continues walking, eyeing puffs of smoke that signal the location of a stable. The Association is quite ingenious in their creation. He just hopes his membership card is still valid. Before he can lose his train of thought, Link huffs and prods Mineru a bit further.
"Why do you know of spirits yet find it hard to believe that magic exists?"
She lets out a scoff as if his question was meaningless. Rude. "Because I am literal, definite proof that spirits are real. My incorporeal form stands as pretty good evidence. Magic, on the other hand, no matter how much you and my little brother think it to be real, is simply implausible."
"King Rauru literally said that the Constructs are a mix of magic and technology." Link rolls his eyes as the stable entirely comes into view just above the trail's peak. "Don't you make them? How could he think they're magic, yet you don't?"
"Because he is a dreamer, always has—had been. The brat used to imagine himself fighting dragons with a magic sceptre." Mineru's voice loses the haughty tinge as it dyes itself with a nostalgic tune. "What a boy. He was such a dork."
"Didn't he use sealing magic to do something in that chamber?" Link tries to reason as he waves at a nearby traveller, who glances worriedly at the man appearing to be talking to himself. "C'mon, that's gotta be at least some proof."
"Ugh," He can basically hear her eyes rolling. The thought makes him grin a bit. "His power is not magic. It's the work of the Secret Stones. They're what… wait."
"What?" Link's hackles immediately rise, and his ears twitch to any nearby sound. Behind him, in some bushes, a twig snaps. He spins on his heel, and the knight's broadsword draws quickly as if an artist were painting a portrait.
Link's sword is his brush, and he is an artist. In a single stroke, he can paint crimson across any canvas—and thus, he prepares for blood.
A blue-eyed and fearsome Wolf steps out from the brush, black with gray markings and dapplings like highlights in its—his fur. Link recognizes him.
"What a large beast!" Mineru gasps. "Careful, General. That thing is no ordinary wolf!"
"Hey, buddy!" Link laughs while he crouches, holding out his arms and awaiting the canine's arrival. "Where've you been? I thought you would've found a pack or something!"
"I—what?"
The wolf immediately hops over, his massive tongue lolling out of his mouth as he huffs excitedly when Link calls him over. He rolls onto his back when he reaches the Hero, the wagging of his colossal tail kicking up dust clouds with its rapid, beating motion.
"I'm not rubbing your belly," Link sternly warns. The wolf suddenly stops his panting and begins to whine. "No, we've been over this. You always bite me when I rub your belly, and I told you I would stop if you kept doing that."
He rolls back onto his paws, his head held low as if Link had just kicked him. He looks like the dog he most certainly is not. The General immediately feels terrible. Those puppy dog eyes are brutal.
"You know… him?" Mineru asks. "Is there anyone—anything you don't know?"
"I only know who I know," Link answers as he scratches the wolf's furry ears.
The wolf jumps to his feet and shakes off the dirt coating his fur. After a tiny sneeze, he begins to walk the trail. Link gets up to follow when he looks back at him expectantly.
"It's smart,"
"He's more than meets the eye, that's for sure."
The road only goes on for a short time longer before they reach the stable. It's a new one, Serenne, if he remembers correctly from the notice the Association sent him when it was being built. It's a standard horse-head design, but a small town seems to have developed around the outskirts, stopping just short at the mouth of the Breach of Demise.
Some buildings have started coming up using the remains of the Ancient Tech Lab to the north of the Stable.
It's small but bustling. Locals travel to and from work. The dirt path has been lined with wood decks to keep shoes and pants from the constantly retread mud of the road.
There's even a tavern or 'Saloon' if he goes off the sign at the top of the building. His gaze lingers on it longer than usual, mainly because the name is so eye-catching.
What is a saloon, exactly? Curious.
The wolf barks, stealing back his attention. When Link looks over, he sees the animal staring back at him before turning his head and pointing to a nearby hill.
When he follows, his breath catches in his chest when he sees the markings on the ground. Massive crisscrossing, dark gray or brown lines that look alien to anything he's ever seen before.
"What…?" He mutters aloud, catching the attention of someone nearby.
"Hmm? Are you a traveller?" A man walks over, his arm lugging a log beneath his elbow. His outfit is somewhat strange, with leather pants covering his regular trousers and a hide vest overtop his baby-blue shirt. It's thick and looks uncomfortable to Link's discerning eye. Still, the man wears a friendly smile. His voice carries with it an unfamiliar twang he's never heard before. "Welcome to New Serenne! She's a small, up-and-comin' new town we've managed to put together with the help of Bolson and Hudson Construction! Did the Geoglyph catch yer eye?"
"Thank you," Link nods, placing his hands on his belt. "I had no idea a town was being developed here."
He should meet with their local council or mayor. The people could benefit from a contingent of soldiers protecting their new home, especially with its proximity to Lookout Landing. A direct route from the Citadel, here and then, Rito Village would benefit everyone in between.
"Yeah," the man's visage takes on a deeper tone. Blue darkness overtakes his previously friendly demeanour. "Lotta refugees from the massacre came 'round after the Mabe Monster and his army torched their family homes. Basically helped build the town overnight—"
Link's heart stops the minute the words leave his lips. He struggles to breathe as his inhales come short of a full breath.
Mabe Monster.
He never gave the order to torch anything. What the hell is going on?
"—It's impressive how far we've all come after such a terrible tragedy." The man nods to himself, smiling at his words before seemingly realizing that Link is not well. "Say, you alright, fella? You're lookin' mighty pale."
"Link?" Mineru chimes in silently.
"I'm… I'm fine." He responds to both of them. "I—uh, thank you, but I should be going now."
Link spins and tries to get away—aimlessly and desperately tries to escape to Hylia knows where, probably a hole he can wallow in—but stumbles, missing the single step to the road and nearly falling into the mud. The kind man catches him, dropping his log in the process.
"Woah!" He says. "Let's get you someplace you can sit, alright? Can't be travelin' on fumes, sir. Some Tabantha Rye'll set you straight for your journey."
"No, I—" he tries but fails to escape. The townsman has already snatched Link up firmly and leads him to the saloon. Well, at least he gets to see what that means.
Link is brought to two swinging doors, and the man holding him pushes them open with a light touch. The minute they enter the building, his ears are filled with the melody of piano, violin and some kind of wind instrument coloured brass and shaped like an upside-down question mark.
The music grounds him, allowing the Hero to find solace within the whirlwind of his mind. Link finds himself struggling to stand. His legs feel like Chuchu jelly before being thrown into a wooden chair that creaks under his weight.
"Stay there," the villager holds out his palm like Link was a horse needing to be soothed. "Lemme get you a drink. I'll be right back."
"I-I don't…!" he's already gone before Link can protest. "Drink."
He sighs, the worst of his panic leaving with the exhale. Now, he's just tired. He leans against the table before him, resting his face against his palm as he rubs circles into his temple. His brain pounds like a drum beat.
Maybe a drink wouldn't be a terrible idea.
"I felt your heart rate spike after your reaction outside." Mineru pauses for a moment, waiting for a response that never comes. "I recognize a post-traumatic response when I see it. Drowning it with alcohol won't help."
"I don't wanna talk about it," Link replies shortly. "I'm fine."
"Just don't let it get in our way," Her usually straight and somewhat kind voice shifts back to how he remembers first meeting her. Heated and angry. "You still need to kill the Demon King; if you can't keep your head straight, we've already failed."
Link makes a face like a mix between a grimace and a silent snarl. He still rests his hand against his eyes. "Where's the Wolf?" He asks, noticing he's nowhere to be seen.
"Ran off toward the Glyph in the north." Mineru sharply retorts. She's unhappy with him and his lackadaisical care of his mental well-being. "Once you're sufficiently sloshed to forget your woes, we can see."
"It's rude to refuse a gift," Link grunts, her voice making his migraine even worse. "What's your problem—?"
"Heyo," the man who carried him over saunters to the table, gripping two glasses filled with amber liquid by the rim. "Got you somethin'! You feelin' any better?"
He grunts affirmingly, not trusting his voice to express his frustration with Mineru. Link grabs the glass, downing the alcohol in one fell gulp, grimacing and hissing at the taste. Whiskey never goes down easily. "Thanks. I never got your name."
"Garshon," He smiles, sitting next to Link and fires back his own glass with barely a reaction. "You?"
"Uh," Link pauses, his name struggling to come to his lips. He doesn't want to use it, especially after finding out the people here are refugees from Mabe. He's… ashamed. "R-Rauru. My name is Rauru."
"...?" Mineru lets out a questioning sound. "What are you doing?"
"Ah, I loved that story. Sounds like your mama did, too." Garshon looks up wistfully. "Well, a pleasure to meet you, Rauru. What brings you 'round these parts?"
"...Rito Village," He forces. "Checking out the phenomena."
"You a member of the Z.S.T?" Garshon questions further. Link confusedly quirks his head before working out what the acronym stands for.
"Oh, uh," Technically, it wouldn't be lying to say he is. His wife started the Survey Team, after all. "I'm looking for Zonai… stuff."
"Why are you lying? What are you doing, Link?"
He bites his lip.
"Have you checked out the Geoglyph nearby? There was a Sheikah lady and her escort checkin' it out earlier. I dunno if she's still there." Garshon pauses before smiling apologetically. "Sorry about all the questions! I never get a chance to travel, so talkin' to travellers is the closest I get to seein' the country, like my brothers."
"It's fine," He waves off the apology before pushing himself to his feet and rummaging in his bag. He pulls out a red rupee, placing it on the table. "I really need to go."
"Hey, this is too much! The whiskey was only three greens!" Garshon tries, but Link is already walking away. "Be safe, Rauru! It was nice to meet you!"
The hero pushes open the Saloon doors, swinging them outward and crossing the muddy street northward. He has a goal in mind if the 'Sheikah lady and her escort' are who he assumes them to be.
"I don't know what you were playing at," Mineru grinds out. He can feel her burning with anger. "But I am not okay with using my brother's name to lie."
He can't even find it in himself to apologize. He did what he had to—what he felt he had to do. Link, the Mabe Monster, can't just show up and destroy what the refugees have built.
They will know him as Rauru, a strange but cordial traveller. Link does not know of their new safe haven. They will all rest easy knowing this.
He sighs, heavy and breathy, as they near the 'Geoglyph's' lines. What a strange yet fitting name for such a phenomenal vista. A familiar face waits for him, staring at a nearby hot-air balloon in the distance, resting on some scaffolding. When the hero steps closer, the Wolf reappears with a low bark, jaunting over and falling into action with the man. Link nods at him, and the wolf bounces his head as it circles around the site.
"Cado," Link calls, waves, making the old man jump at the sudden interruption, nearly drawing the katana at his side. Link holds his hands out, halting so he can calm Cado. "It's me."
"L-Link," He breathes out in relief, releasing the sword with shaking hands. "Sorry. You scared the daylights out of me—I didn't even notice you approaching. I heard you went missing."
The wolf looks between them, taking a seat and tilting his head at their voices.
"Yeah. Where's Impa?"
—
Zelda finally awakens with a groan, slowly pushing herself up on her elbows as she takes in the scenery. It does not look like the bottom of a chasm like she had expected, and she is not dead as she assumed.
Instead, she's in a clearing just outside of a small bundle of trees. She does not recognize the area, but she does know the flora. Hyrule Field, most definitely. She would know the native trees and flora that grow here like she knows that the back of her left-hand carries a dark birthmark in the shape of the Triforce.
Immediately, Zelda pushes herself up. "Link? Link, are you okay?!"
His arm, the Gloom. The Master Sword… Please, Hylia, he has to be okay. He's all she has left.
Goddess, please let him be okay.
"Link?" A male voice she doesn't recognize sparks up from behind her, making her flinch and yelp. "Are you alright, miss?"
She flicks around, scrambling back and preparing herself for the worst, when she sees an eight-foot-tall… cat-man staring down at her. A tall, bronze-skinned Hylian—not nearly as tall as the male stands beside him, covered in white (Painted?) runes she does not recognize. If not her fright and shock, she would question them. Instead, Zelda covers her vital organs with her arms and fires her meanest attempt at copying Link's glare she can muster at the two strange… people.
"Rauru! You frightened her!" The woman speaks this time—she swats the cat-man's massive trunk-like arm—and a light grunt, then a low apology retorts from the male. She turns, smiling with the warmth of the sun as she crouches low to Zelda's level. She feels strangely at ease under her gaze, like the loving embrace of a mother. "Hello, dear. Can you tell me your name?"
Heyo, I hope you enjoyed it. This one was fun to write, and getting some Zelda Pov was great. I missed writing her.
The next few are gonna be fun, too. I hope you look forward to it.
Lemme know your thoughts. I wish I could reply on this site.