blistering sun and burning sands

Half-Lynel. Better than boar.

"If you think my ass looks good, you should see my abs." He had them covered in the clothes he wore, but many outfits he wore showed his muscles much more clearly. They were a point of pride for him, after all.

He glanced at the halberd in his other hand. "This is for protection. Monsters are everywhere these days. I'm not great with weapons, but I do best with polearms." And sometimes he shot a bow, but he wasn't good enough to rely on the skill.

He's eyeing the halberd again. Such a fine weapon, too ornate for the artist Shanz claimed to be. The quality was on par with the spears wielded by the Gerudo guard. It made him wonder, how he'd gotten a hold of it - stolen? Gifted? Borrowed from the friend he'd mentioned? Clearly, there was more to the smaller man than what was seen at face value and it made Ganon suspicious for a moment. Hylians were a tricky people -

- no, that was his mothers' talking. All those years of their teachings were still hard to unlearn. Urbosa had been working with him to teach him what was true in the world. At least within the last generation.

Shanz's heart skipped a beat and he stood still for a moment. Fuck. Not a name he wanted to hear assigned to a person. What the hell?

But there was a hand being offered to him, and reluctantly– with a note of shyness and fluster in his movements– he took it. "I'm Shanz," he answered. "Shanz Dinrel. I'm an artist, mainly. I know many disciplines except discipline itself." He couldn't even bring himself to chuckle at his joke.

His hand was warm. Not uncomfortably so, either. Another note of fluster appeared, coloring Shanz's features with a slight blush.

"You... can call me Ta'ariq, if my name makes you hesitate." As he felt the smaller hand in his, Ganon gave a nod to Shanz's introduction. "An artist, I see. Explains your gentle, but calloused hands. Not quite sure what an artist needs a halberd for, though."

Ganon felt a bit of awkwardness of his own now, revealing his name, both his public and personal names. Few ever knew his personal name, connecting him always to the kings before him and never bothering to learn about him.

Aw, hell. Shanz shook his head. "I'm sorry. I'm making a big deal out of nothing. If you insist on helping me, then it's much appreciated. If you're buying drinks, though, you should know that my friend happens to love noble pursuits, and she's got a booze tolerance that makes her look like she's not even Hylian."

"If your friend enjoys noble pursuits, there is only one place that serves them," he pointed out. "She's sure to find her way there. NOw, come with me, I'll buy you some clothes - I know the seamstress for it."

"Running errands with a friend," he sighed. It was a stretch of the truth. The halberd might have told quite the story on its own– it wasn't just Hyrulean, it was a fine blend of form and function. Ornate, yet deadly. Not exactly standard issue– unless you rubbed elbows with someone high up in the Hyrulean military. There was a reason he strove to take good care of it.

At least that way, peace was kept between the kingdom and the Gerudo tribes. Something Ganon was torn between as prince and heir to a history of bloodshed.

Not to mention the darker presence inside him that loathed the very thought of peace between their races.

ooc ; combined the ideas sketched out at work into a rough draft of Ganon's tattoo. Design rambles under the cut

Source

Source

my take on goddess din's real form :)