Gathering rocks was both more difficult than anticipated, and not difficult at all. One would think that, when you're looking for rocks, they're kind of just laying around everywhere, ripe for the picking. But the moment you start looking for them, suddenly, not a rock in sight. That, and the instability of the ground, meant it took far longer than Tya thought to build Link's stepping stones.
Still, they'd managed, and in all honesty, she was kind of enjoying this. Link stood atop a stone, sweating, watching his step, but he held her hand for stability. She'd tested each rock on her own to be sure they wouldn't… Well. Rock. When she'd gotten to and from the other terrace with no problem, she'd slipped off her boots and rolled up the bottom of her pants so she could wade through the water, which was surprisingly pleasing to do. The silt beneath her feet was soft all except the places where the path still remained intact. There, it was coarse when she sank through to find it. A good place to get her bearings among a pasty puree of wet, suctiony sand.
She enjoyed escorting him across. Was amused by the fact that he put on a straighter posture and referred to her as a kind gentleman for doing so. She, of course, called him m'lady. After a pleasant curtsy of his tunic in response, they started off without issue.
As Link set foot on the path once again, Tya found she kind of dreaded the thought of releasing the hand he had placed in hers. She'd kept their hands raised between them, and as he got his bearings, she had let her gaze drop to that connection with uncertainty. There was a feeling building in her throat. A tendrilly little ache that was boring down through her lungs, making it hard to breathe.
He fisted his free hand to prop on his hip with some air of triumph at having succeeded, but when he turned to smile at her, it faltered.
When she caught the inquisitive look in his eye, the question that fell out of her face wasn't what she anticipated: "Are you not afraid that I'll hurt you?"
He mirrored her confusion, and even as her mind scrambled for an explanation, she found nothing. There was no much-needed context to give him. Even if there had been, immediately after speaking, she'd looked at him and found herself distracted by the barely visible dust of freckles along his heat-flushed cheeks. She kept noticing those. Why did she suddenly hold such an interest in freckles? Only half present, Tya muttered past the lump in her throat, "I could set you aflame so easily."
This time, he arched a brow, and she didn't actually notice just how unsettling it might be to have someone stare at you intently and say that. His dark blue gaze searched her for anything that would show how exactly that statement was meant to be taken, and in the concern, he slipped his hand away from hers.
There it was.
Fear.
Why had she even thought to say such a thing to him?
—She hadn't thought. That was the problem; it had just come out without preamble, and she had no idea why she was being like this.
"...I wouldn't," she said. She dropped her boots on the path so she could put them back on. "I was just worried you might think of me as too…" she stalled once again, pressing her heel into one boot and wiggling a little to right it. What was a good word for how she felt, especially here? It wasn't exactly danger, no. Fire was, of course, always dangerous. But it was the fact that she felt so easy to spark. So Combustible, so explosive, so volatile.
Her next breath wavered, and instead of speaking, she raised her hands with fingers splayed and waggling.
Link glanced ahead, then back at her again, then to her hands. He seemed to think on it for a moment, then his expression became troubled as he truly took in the meaning of what she said. Matter-of-factly, he replied "I'm not afraid of you. You know that?"
She shook her head. Pressing her palms to one another, she thickly croaked "I don't" with enough of an upward inflection that she seemed uncertain of the answer. Why did she even care? She'd never thought she did, one way or the other about another person's opinion of her- that she generally wanted to fade out of existence in the eyes of anyone. She'd thought, very recently, that she didn't care to be viewed as a danger. But was it really a surprise that she couldn't parse her thoughts? How did she even manage to get herself here, from admiring how lovely he looked even while sweating his ass off? She'd just been having fun.
"I'm glad you aren't, though." She added, dropping her hands to her sides again. She swallowed. There felt like there should be more to that; there was more to that somewhere in her, but none of it really seemed coherent. Feelings, more than words she could voice. So instead, she just said, "Shall we?"
He didn't start moving as she had hoped. He eyed her. "Are you okay?"
She hadn't exactly sewn her overactive mind back together yet, so that question snapped the few threads she'd put in. Shoulders drooping, she blandly answered, "Who even knows."
Link slipped a hand under hers again, holding them up as a show toward the entirely out-of-place question she'd asked. She squeezed, surprised by just how comforting it had been. But, just as quickly as it had come, he had let her go again and turned his back to her self-sabotaging dumbass so they could continue working on their priority: finding Zelda.
She and the sweat-drenched boy continued along the path. What they came upon was a carved-out shape that almost reminded Tya of a cake pan. It was large, but not so much that she couldn't see the other side past a mass of rock poking out from nearly the very center of it. Hollow and empty, she could see that the place they walked circled all the way around. Just like that, her mind settled again as she considered a celebratory bundt cake when they returned home with Zelda.
Another mogma had emerged to watch their passing as so many others had thus far. Link waved a greeting which the mogma returned with an eagerness that very nearly matched his own. The swelling of adoration that came with watching his smile was almost enough to choke her all over again, so she forced her gaze to the ground instead.
Was this worse than usual? It felt worse than usual.
It felt like a lot.
It felt very fast - all of her thoughts felt very fast. There was no consistency, no bridge between each, no flow.
Had it always been like this? She couldn't even remember, but if it was, it had to be some sort of miracle she ever managed to be awake. This stupid, constant back and forth in her mind was exhausting, and new or not, this impulsiveness wasn't going to do anything good in her favor.
What had she been thinking about before this? She needed a different subject - cake pans. Right.
She looked around. Bundt cakes.
What kind of cakes did Zelda enjoy?
She'd seen her eat pretty much any kind she could get her hands on, but she knew she liked fruit, so perhaps one with fresh fruit.
What kind did Link like?
She looked at him again and doing so required another long, measured breath.
Why?
"What kind of cake do you like?"
Link's boots scuffed the sand as he turned to look at her, partly amused, mostly confused. "...Pumpkin spice."
Cream cheese frosting. She'd helped Zelda make him a small one for his birthday a few years back.
Vanilla with whipped frosting and fresh strawberry in the filling. That was what she'd made for Zelda's last birthday, and she practically melted.
Would she get the chance to make her another?
The tip of Link's sword brightened, and Tya forced her attention down again.
Watch the ground.
Just focus on not falling through.
Those weren't even bundt cakes anyway.
They continued on and found that the ground seemed to worsen, because they had to reroute on a little more often. One such case had them climb up the edge of a cliff, but it was no more difficult than any of their little excursions in the woods had been. That detour in particular only stood out, because it had been the first time she'd had the privilege of seeing some of the wildlife up close. While Link pulled himself up, she'd noticed some short way down the enclosed path, large round eyes watching them with caution. She could see what looked to be scaly vibrant colored patterns on a rounded face, and an antenna swaying tentatively out into the open. It wasn't as mindless as a whisker may have been, rather it almost looked like a lure, which was nearly working on her. At least up until Link turned back and pulled her back to the reality where trying to cuddle wildlife was a bad idea. The little warning trill it had made was the part that had really amused her - it seemed like a sound of aggression and yet it had been so cute.
He helped her up, which was for the best because the impulses in her brain were screaming "pet baby" even though she knew that was a terrible idea. Still, as they passed over top the general area they'd seen the cute little creature, Tya leaned carefully to look over the edge. And in doing so, she was greeted with those big round eyes looking up at her, then a startled little squeal as it retreated into what she assumed was a little den.
"Careful," Link said, devoid of the scolding tone she expected to find in such a thing. Straightening, she softened and moved to walk close behind him.
They followed the decaying bits of path that showed through the dirt, up until it curved to the left. Another dip into a canyon-esque section of a terrace, and that, Tya had noticed, was pretty much just the entirety of the landscape. The slopes made it convenient to traverse the path, and– Oh, that was a horribly boring train of thought. But it was easier, wasn't it? To sit and think about how a landscape like this even formed in tiers and shallow cliffs? About the way the eroded faces of the bird statues looked, or about the round eyes of another of those antennaed creatures watching them in the distance? She breathed in, then breathed out.
Goddess, she was antsy. It only seemed to be getting worse. Restless. Even with her body aching, her muscles felt like they were withering with each refusal to sprint, and she could feel the fire singing in her blood, just as desperate.
The ground beneath their feet shook.
A normal occurrence, up until it wasn't.
Something in the distance began to crack and crumble, and the sounds of it bounced along the walls of the path in nearly painful echoes. That was rarely a good sign, so when Link broke into a run to find out what, she could hardly blame him. Following him was a small yet blissful little outlet for her building anticipation.
They swung a corner, hardly stalled by a pillar that had fallen across the path, but were forced to a dead stop at the edge of a chasm. The grating, awful sound of stone against stone almost drowned that of debris splashing into water somewhere below. From the far side, a slab of rock was slowly reaching to span the gap, grinding terribly with each inch.
They stood in the meager shade of a fallen archway, mirrored wholly above the recess opposite them. Squared out, rectangular, filigreed with weathered scales and lizard-like depictions, and atop it, entirely out of place, stood a figure.
Their form was shapeless, lost beneath the black draped across them. The darkness of their clothing seemed to repel the light of the sun, but not that of the magic that crackled around their legs. Tya was enthralled by the sight of it.
It was unlike her own - lightning rather than fire. It snapped at the air with anticipation, hueing the ends of their clothes, and she was so fixated, she almost didn't even notice that the two of them had been spoken to.
"Chosen," the stranger called. Tya couldn't see their face, but she could feel the weight of their gaze locked on them both. A long braid of platinum hair shook free from beneath their cloak. The grinding hushed, and the moment it did, their sonorous voice urged, "Hurry. She's ahead." And just like that, the lightning cracked beneath their feet. They shot back off the archway and leapt between the walls, disappearing as the path curved.
Tya lagged a step just to watch, but concern was quick to usurp her curiosity. Judging by how easily Link began to hurry across the bridge, he didn't struggle similarly.
They crossed to the other side, more rubble than ruin, and as they hurried into the valley the figure had gone down, she found blissful, beautiful focus. Not even the little rounded carvings of flames that topped pillars embedded into the rock distracted her, then.
They followed the stonework, passed a bird statue, walked beneath arches, passed brambles, all without a word. They moved quicker now, and she was glad for it.
The space between the risers sang with each passing breeze, softening only as they emerged on the other side, on the bank of a narrow, hot stream. It lazily bisected their path at a low point, having long ago carved its place in the stone.
She'd only just begun to glance around for something they could use as stepping stones when Link backed up a few steps. He judged the distance with only a second of caution before sprinting and leaping across. He did land somewhat in the water, at the shallow edges of the shore. It splashed up on the back of his legs, darkening the tan color of his pants, but if it hurt him, he didn't show it. Instead, he stood there before a significantly steeper slope than the rest they'd seen thus far; a proper part of the mountainside they'd been gradually ascending.
Tya frowned as she crossed her arms. "I thought we'd agreed no recklessness."
He turned his upper half so he could look back at her, then, realizing she hadn't yet crossed, fully faced her.
"She's close," was his only response as he held his hands out to Tya.
Waving her own in response, she said "I don't need help crossing, actually. I just don't want you to hurt yourself."
"I'm fine."
"But you could easily not be."
She hadn't meant that rudely, but the way he dropped his hands seemed dejected enough to tweak at her anxiety. She really just didn't need his help this time; the water was nice, even if she only dipped into it a little whilst crossing.
Their ascent was a gradual beginning. The incline was something to be half climbed, half walked, and because it would be so easy to slide, Tya put her mind on the task at hand more than she did, her companion. It was just as wild a shift as everything else in her head had been. She had assumed that Link would handle himself and she would, herself, just as they'd been doing thus far. Though she was generally used to worrying about multiple things at once, it was a struggle to find that same ability to multitask right now. It felt like her mind would hone in on one topic and then another in an instant. so she forcibly put that targeted focus on climbing.
When he coughed at first, and paused to hang his head, she'd thought that if he wasn't okay, he would say something. When he stopped to hold himself up against the rock with one hand, the other on his chest, she watched him. She thought he would be more attuned to his own ailments. More willing to recognize and mention them, given how actively he'd advocate for her. But she failed to realize that Link had a similar fundamental flaw in his very being to her own: he didn't want to be a bother.
Both his bravery and his selflessness, she'd seen as a virtue until the second cough. Dry and from deep in his chest, followed by a sharp wheeze that didn't cease with the next breath. He fell forward again with a hand anchored against the tuff and the other tense against his chest, fingers pressing into the fabric of his tunic.
Tya muttered his name with concern. It was more a reaction than anything else, as he twisted to sit against the stone. The shifting was really a preemptive response to the fact that he was going to fall whether he liked it or not. He could do it face first, or he could do it comfortably.
She balanced her unstable footing the best she could and braced herself with his raised and bent knees. "What's wrong?" She asked, only to be given no response.
He was focused. Lips parted, eyes closed, he leaned forward for a moment before instead electing to fall back flat on the slope. His hand ran along his chest, and as she watched, she realized there wasn't a lot of movement to be found. Where there should be a rise and a fall of normal breathing, there was stillness and then there was abrupt stuttering of an attempted inhale.
Had something happened?
They'd just been climbing. She hadn't noticed anything else, but had she missed it?
She didn't know what was wrong, and he wasn't answering. Concern was rooting and beginning to grow, budding into the painful breathlessness of panic, but she tried to level it; it wasn't the time. Falling to his side, more knelt and propped than sitting, she rested one hand over the one he had on his chest. There was no blood and no tears in his clothing to suggest he'd been hit by anything. Though the possibility still lingered, she was able to find a little bit of comfort in the fact that she saw nothing that might indicate an injury.
The only thing she did see was that he was hot. Very hot.
He had been this entire time, which was no surprise. The very thing that fueled her was actively stifling him, and while there was a twinge of guilt budding, it was able to be overshadowed by his state.
Shifting her weight to her knees, Tya was careful not to slip on what little there was in the way of a foothold as she grabbed a flask of water and offered it out to Link. He moved like he was going to brush it off, but stopped in the middle. Instead, he grabbed her wrist and held it, grip tightening and loosening in increments.
—The blaring of a horn jolted fear down her spine.
She fell forward on her hands and knees, scrambling to keep from sliding. The scuffing of Link's boots as he hurried to get his bearings was almost drowned by the all too familiar screech that followed.
To the top of the slope, distant and on the high, leveled edge of this trough, stood an overhanging balcony with turquoise veined pillars and a roof still standing to the test of time. Standing atop a floor of long-cooled lava, was the horn-wielding asshole that had pissed her off.
Her palms sparked with irritation, but more conscious of her failure now, Tya flattened them against the tuff. She opted for a look of pure annoyance up toward the creature. They just really enjoyed making Too Much Noise, didn't they?
She fucking hated it.
But that anger took a back seat as the reason for the horn clicked. It wasn't just for fun obviously, though she'd have easily assumed they, as a species, were made to piss her off. It was an alarm which was also something that should have been painfully obvious.
Another pair of Pests approached the crumbled edge where the downward slope cut sharp off the level ground. Between them, they hoisted a large slab of stone.
She shot a hand out to grab hold of Link, who had released her upon hearing the horn. His breath, already shallow and wheezing, became shorter in a spike of panic. His free hand hurriedly sought the shield he'd put away to make climbing easier, but Tya didn't give him the chance to grab it.
With a quiet, stifled "no", she tugged him, almost throwing him off his balance, which, in all honesty, would have been less detrimental than getting hit by a massive rock. In order to avoid both of these possibilities, he turned with her as she started half scrambling, half sliding back down the slope. The sound of crashing behind them said this was the right decision. As they hit level ground, Link stalled his momentum with the steep valley wall. Standing firm, he practically swung Tya away from the water and into the rocks as well, winding her with the impact.
She lagged from the blow, and that misstep in her thoughts caused a sharp spike of panic when Link's intentions hit her. She'd only managed to think 'human shield' in that few seconds, and it took the shower of scalding water on her skin for her to realize why. As the slab sunk into the water and silt, all that was left was the misplaced anxiety of a betrayal.
After hitting the rocks, he'd pulled her in front of him and sandwiched himself between her and the valley wall, yet the softness of his body didn't occur to her until she finally relaxed. It would have been a pleasant thing to find at her back, but so close, she could hear the way he wheezed. It was a curt reminder of what they'd been doing just before they'd almost been crushed, and a needed one at that. She'd yet to take her attention off the top of the hill.
She pushed out his grasp to whirl and look at him. Her hands hovered and fingers splayed over his chest as she tried to catch up.
"Right-" she said more to herself than to Link, and then she looked from him to the slope again. They were most definitely still within view. With the distance she couldn't hear it, but one of those pests was pointing and holding its stomach in a way that very much indicated it was laughing.
The indignant rage she felt toward that would have to wait because Link was the priority.
The valley wall curved along the edge of the stream, and though there was little land on its edges, a small build-up of dry sand was all she needed to get out of view. She pulled Link to a spot that was, for the most part, out of the path of any more thrown rubble. Kneeling in the water, she guided him to sit, which he did. His head fell back against the rock again, and he shook out of her hold to set his hands on his chest like it would help in getting him to breathe. It didn't, though she really, really wished it had. She had no idea what to do to help him, and now with all this adrenaline, she was just becoming a jittering mess.
It would have helped more if she knew the problem at all.
He wasn't breathing, yes, but why?
He'd been struggling here and there thus far anyway, even when it wasn't hot, but now it was. He was sweating a lot, he was wheezing– people got dehydrated when they did that, didn't they? Was it just that he was too hot?
She, again, raised her hands, palms facing out, as a useless means of calming herself down. Taking a breath of her own, she tried to slow.
Even if heat wasn't exactly the problem, it probably wasn't helpful, right?
She pulled at his hands, unstrapping his gauntlets and stacking them beside him on the dry part of the land. She also shifted to remove her satchel which had already gotten a little wet, having taken a small dip when she plopped down. It was only the bottom, but she was reasonably sure that she'd learned her lesson last time and hadn't packed anything that could parish should it get soaked. Still, she set it aside, then continued on to unstrap the baldric across Link's chest.
By the end, she'd stacked his sword, shield, tunic, chainmail, gauntlets and bracers in the small squished space next to him, and it had done pretty much nothing to help at all. He hadn't wanted water, which made sense given the fact that he was trying to breathe, and drinking effectively stopped someone from doing that. She'd dipped his tunic in the stream then laid it out so that the water on it could cool, but thinking about it, she wasn't even sure what that would do to help aside from Be Wet. Bad decision, maybe, but she was at a loss. So much so that she had stalled and was there, staring at him, wishing he would- wishing he could say something to her about what to do. Wishing she wasn't alone in having to figure this out because Goddess, she was fucking dumb, and that wasn't helpful.
Then, quite suddenly, it hit her that she wasn't alone.
She scrambled to grab for his sheathed sword, shaking it when that had literally never been needed before, and saying "Fi, I need help-"
Had she not been so worked up, she likely would have been surprised that Fi responded to her at all, but in that moment, she wasn't even disconcerted by her presence. She was just relieved to not be alone. And even more so at the possibility of being given direction that might actually result in her being useful.
She couldn't form a coherent explanation, and even right then she couldn't bear a second instance of him hearing her say something stupid. All she did was thrust a finger out toward him, silently pleading for Fi's help.
It seemed like forever that Fi spent staring at him, her expression just as blank and unreadable as ever. Then, rather than addressing Tya, Fi said "Master, it appears you are having difficulty breathing. I suggest you remedy this as soon as you are able as the consequences could be dire."
Tya, whose immediate thought was 'yeah, no shit', waved to get her attention. "Are you able to tell me why he is having difficulty breathing? Or what exactly the 'remedy' for that might be?"
Fi shifted to face her. Just like Tya had suffocated her desire to be snippy, she also smothered the spike of discomfort that arose upon having the undivided attention of the spirit.
"My analysis indicates an abnormal contraction of the lungs caused by external irritants. The recommended course of action is to remove oneself from the area."
Tya had leaned forward to begin gathering their things which would have been a surprise even to her had she not had a singular train of thought at the time. Despite his ailments, Link grabbed her again to stop her from doing anything. While he said nothing, Tya was quick to catch up and remember their entire goal: Zelda.
Zelda, who was indeed worth the world. Zelda, who was quite possibly in danger given the demand issued by the Black Figure. But was she worth Link possibly dying?
Even if she was, which she wasn't, there wasn't any way in hell that Zelda would have agreed. She would be devastated at the news he died- devastated even at the possibility that he could have.
She bit the inside of her lip, settling back and trying just for a moment to think in a way that was actually coherent.
"And what would be the second option, since leaving isn't?" She asked Fi.
"Alleviating the inflammation," the spirit answered, and Tya, again, chewed the inside of her bottom lip in thought.
When she came up empty-handed once again, she continued "And how do I alleviate inflammation?"
Fi was silent. So long that Tya had wondered if she just missed the answer, actually. But when she looked up with the intent to say something, Fi cut her off.
"I have performed a scan of the immediate area. Master, would you like me to begin dowsing for herbs that may help?"
Link, a hand still settled against his chest, nodded.
He was strikingly calm for a man who couldn't breathe, Tya thought. Then she noticed; was he really?
Again, he'd released her, and now she could see the way one hand tightened and loosened like a pulse on the fabric of his pants and the other, pressed into his chest. His eyes were wide and a bit watery- it was all subtle, she realized. And something about that only made it ache more.
She leaned forward, brushing aside his damp hair and resting her palm against his cheek. "Close your eyes and focus. I will not leave you for long," she assured just above a whisper, then with the sheathed Goddess Sword, stood again.
Looking up at Fi, she awaited any sign that she was ready to proceed, but Fi didn't move. Instead, she faced Tya with an air of skepticism, though her expression itself remained unchanged.
"Master, do you grant permission for the Goddess Sword to be held by another?"
Again, Link nodded.
Fi almost seemed reluctant in the long moment that followed his consent, but even if she was, she said: "Very well". She retreated once more into the sword, and Tya looked at it, confused.
But she didn't dwell, not now. Instead, she pulled it from the scabbard and looked it over with just as much confusion, now in a different area. She'd never really held a sword, especially not a magical one. It hadn't really, really occurred to her until that moment, what exactly the sword was- an artifact. An old, ancient, Goddess-Made artifact.
But again, she didn't dwell, even if that thought was now pressing in her mind almost as much as that of Link's well-being. She had to focus, and though there was a lag, the tip of the blade lit a moment later.
Before she went about her short trek in finding the supposed remedy, Tya had checked and was glad to find they weren't being pursued. While the lookout was still there, even looking down in their direction because they hadn't been subtle in their retreat, it didn't appear that anyone was actually making an effort to follow them. She was still wary but did find a little solace in that.
A little farther down the stream, which Tya had to wade through on the edges to avoid getting drenched, she found a small patch of vines. Nestled among them as well as other brittle, arid shrubbery, was a short plant, with long, thick leaves. She gathered as much of it as she could carry, and grimaced at the cooling sensation left on her hands. It was leaking a substance from its spiney stalks, and while she wasn't completely sure, that sensation led her to believe that was what Link needed. She was careful with them as she hurried back to his side.
He flinched upon hearing the sound of something nearing him. While it did exacerbate the still very much present breathing problem, he somewhat calmed upon seeing that it was just her.
As she had before, she knelt in front of him and set the blade aside. "Fi," she called, and the spirit answered. "What do I do with it?"
"The three most viable applications would be inhalation, consumption, and direct administration to the affected area."
Well. She couldn't exactly apply it directly to his lungs, could she? Tya set aside some of the succulent and looked over a specific piece. Because of the direct reaction she'd had to the gel-like substance inside, she assumed that would be the part most effective, and so she began to pry open the fleshy outside. She pressed the thick gel between her fingers, and looked at him as she considered what exactly she should do with it. Again, couldn't apply it to his lungs, but she could put it on his chest. Would that help? She had no idea, so she pulled down the neck of his tan undershirt and pressed the gel into his skin. As he realized what she was doing, he nodded and took over in doing so, which left her to consider what else she could do.
Consumption and inhalation.
Inhaling gel seemed wildly uncomfortable, and consumption- she looked at the gel tacked between her fingers. He could eat that. But how would one inhale?
She swiped their flask from the small pile of their items and since he'd gone through quite a bit of it before, she dunked it into the hot stream to let some of the water fill into it. When she withdrew to see the steam coming from the hole, she nodded and began carefully scraping as much of the gel into it as she could manage. Then, after capping it again, she shook it, hoping that would do the trick. She didn't have a sense of smell, and while that wasn't a factor in whether the substance would work on her, it meant she didn't actually think to test it on herself before shoving it toward Link.
She urged him to either drink it or breathe it in, but he also wasn't entirely sure which he should be doing. So after a second or two of looking at it, he decided to just do both.
Which. Proved to be a poorly thought-out plan because it was still boiling hot.
He winced, and decided instead, to just hold the steaming mixture close so he could try and breathe it in, difficult as that was.
It felt like a solid century before she started to see any improvement in the rise and fall of his chest. He'd leaned back again with his eyes closed, focusing on the all-too-difficult task whilst holding the flask up to keep the steaming mixture close. Fi had at some point disappeared, and Tya had taken to sitting in front of Link, mimicking the way he breathed to keep track of any improvement.
It wasn't completely normal by the time she asked "Does it feel better?" but it had somewhat leveled. There was less of a stammer between each attempted breath, though she could still hear the wheeze that came with them.
He'd seemed reluctant to answer, unsure himself, but he did eventually nod his head. Another awful, unrelenting cough shook his shoulders, but he calmed Tya's sudden worried jolt forward with a motion of his hand. His next inhale was thick and crude, almost sounding polluted like sand and water struggling through a straw. He leaned back and focused on the steam therapy she'd provided him.