My Battle Cry

        No cloak, no hood– no means to cover herself from the judgmental gazes of Hyrule’s townsfolk. What in Nayru’s waters was she doing traversing this land so openly, especially when the tip of an arrow could pierce her backside without a moment’s warning?

        He neglects to take into account the possibility that perhaps she is not as concerned with other’s opinions as he is, or maybe her reputation is not as tarnished as his own– whereas he much prefers to stay hidden within his home in the forest, here she is doing just the opposite. It’s admirable, if not foolish.

     Her mask she wore more often than not, at least expression-wise, was cold and the aura about her was one not to be messed with. Head held high, back straight, legs lifting at the knee rather than dragging her feet, Yvaine made it so she looked intimidating. She walked like a queen.

      She had to pass through the town in order to continue, keeping her gaze forward, staring directly at the exit. Thirty feet, twenty feet.. 

     Free.

     Her shoulders relaxed and she let out a small huff, only for her body to completely tense back up at another’s voice. Whirling around, her left hand flew to the sword strapped to her lower back, teal eyes instantly locating the source.

     Not Hylian just because of her hair? If that’s the case she’s not even Naleurlean. What an insult.