CHAPTER 2
Three things greeted Link's senses when he awoke: the emerging warmth of the morning sun, the emerging stench of a tunic that had seen better days – to put it delicately – and the impatient sputtering of a horse determined to gain her master's attention.
"I'm up, Epona. I'm up," he mumbled, still half-asleep. "What's the matter?"
Yawning and stretching his body, he slowly stood and surveyed his surroundings, gently brushing the dirt from his tunic. Not a danger in sight, he noticed – not even a storm. Could Epona have simply had a nightmare?
"Don't be ridiculous," he chided himself. "Horses don't dream, as Ko. . . . . . . . ."
He caught himself just in time – and he caught Epona casting a shrewd glance in his direction, as though she could see exactly where his thoughts were turning. With a heavy sigh, he scratched her muzzle and proceeded to untie her reins. "Mido was right all along," he told her. "I'm no Kokiri. I never was, and I never will be. The problem is – well – I'm not quite Hylian, either. . . . . . . . .am I?"
Epona sputtered in commiseration, then licked the boy's hand. Link smirked and finished untying her reins, only to grimace upon smelling his tunic – and himself – yet again. "Well, whatever I am, I could certainly use a bath. So could you, for that matter."
He couldn't decide if the yearling mare's whinny, in response, was meant to convey agreement or annoyance – but, either way, the stench that clung to his body was simply unbearable now, and he scolded himself for leaving Clock Town without bathing first. Had the Great Deku Tree not taught him better than that? Link could nearly hear his surrogate father's voice now, demanding to know what in Din's fire Mido had unceremoniously shoved him into a heap of, THIS time.
"Oh, Great Deku Tree," he murmured with a melancholy grin, contemplating the miserable muck that gripped his clothing and refused to be brushed off. "If only I could tell you to your face."
If only, indeed. Link proceeded to inspect his gear, simply to ensure that nothing had been stolen. Luckily, everything was in its proper place – but, even so, a traveler could never be too careful. Skull Kid had taught him that lesson the hard way.
"What ever happened to Mido, anyway?" he asked Epona, as though she would know or care who Mido even was. He snickered slightly. "He's probably still pretending that he owns the bloody forest, and Fado's probably still following him about like a lost puppy, and Saria –"
He cut himself off, realizing something. "Epona! Saria won't have awakened as a Sage yet! And, for that matter, neither will Ruto or Darunia or Impa or Nabooru! Perhaps one of them will have seen or, or at least heard something about Navi?"
Epona greeted this proposal with the blankest stare that he'd ever seen.
"In any case, we really should check in on them. Saria, especially, before she worries herself sick about me. But not before we've both made ourselves presentable."
Well, before he'd made himself and his steed presentable, but what difference had semantics ever really made?