Jeniro

Sometimes there are lights, hesitant steps, tinkling of metal and shuddering breaths. It matters not, as the presence is fleeting at best, and does not bother the chill, damp quietness.

But nothing in this world is immune to change, and with the passage of time happened something strange. As clouds darkened high above the forest, a Hylian once came, and she never left.

How foreign to meet someone who cannot be misled. How odd to have a person sleep where all had fled. The woods can't be tamed, and she doesn't try to; she embraces the mist, sings to the wind, feeds from the dew.

Hylians still fear the trees. That is how things sould be.

If she so desires, she can stay.