OVERWATCH SENTENCES.

     A rage blooms in his breast, so hot and heavy that Link has to turn away, eyes wide and wild. Hang in there? Hang in there? 

     What, like Ilia had from that monster’s grip in the Ordon spring? Like he had just moments before turning into a wild vilified beast? Like Midna had when Zant doomed her to a light-infested death? Like Zelda had, strung up like some prize in her castle hall, only to be possessed by that -- by that --

    A quick spin of his heel turns him back to the shade. He stares, trembling, for one long second, and begins to pace. 

     He’d seen the sword put into the demon king’s belly. Put it there himself. Watched the twilight eke from this world and back into its own, the balance of dawn and dusk and night and day. Watched the very life flow from Ganondorf’s eyes -- watched it to be sure it was over. 

   Fire fills his lungs, threatening a scream. 

    And now--

    And now--

    The mirror is broken.

    But the Twilight is back.

    And this shade wants to tell him to hang in there and do it all again. Without Midna. Without Zelda. With everyone he’s ever known, loved, torn away form him the very moment the darkness swallowed his world whole.

    A tree intercepts his path.

{ His dreams, so like to the sleep of death, soft and quiet and vacuous, held little save    for the reflections of the waking world, and the shattered fragments of his own soul.    Here he communed only with himself, with the aspects of lives long since lost and    reborn anew; each voice, each form, was like a different man entirely, yet all of them    were bound together by that same heroic soul, that same yearning toward courage.    Aye, this place was indeed brave, so still and silent. Just as they all were. Just as the    first was. }

Send ❤ for three pros and three cons of your character dating mine.

Because the Goddess would never do such a thing to Hylia, let’s kick this into her fantasy mortal verse ;)

Pros:

She’s a potion shop owner! A damn good one. So like woo! Free potions.

She’d be super patient if he’s mute and it takes a bit to get him to talk!

Often travels a lot herself so she doesn’t mind following him around on adventures, camping, etc. and is great with horses!

Cons:

Your life is forever an escort mission because she can’t fight. (But at least she’s not Princess Ruto??)

She’s a mite obsessed with her work, even if that puts her life in danger to an extent. As in, I need this herb and he’s busy so I’ll just be careful and wander into dangerous territory by myself yes it’s fine oh shit

omg that’s so cute and. you’re so cute !! uwu i hope your owl loves it dude !!

i hAVE MADE A TERRIBLE MISTAKE & I WOULD NOT HAVE NOTICED IF U HADN’T REPLIED

U THINK JUST BC UR A CUTE FOREST BOI U CAN COME IN AND MAKE MOVES HELL NAH THIS IS MY CASTLE THIS IS MY PRINCESS THIS IS MY LAND UR JUST A SQUIRREL TRYNA GET A NUT AND I WILL NOT PERMIT IT

She is untameable, or so claim the royal servants that work in the stables. She is wild, mean, impossible to ride, let alone touch. She has a knack for breaking out of her stall, no matter what security measures they take; latches she learned to lift, ties she learned to escape, and wood she learned to kick through. But when she gets out, these servants claim, it appears she doesn’t know what to do with herself. She will eat oats or hay or treats, if they are accessible. She will go out to pasture, but only stand there in the midst of it all, distant. The herd will not accept her, though she doesn’t appear to want to join them.

                   Something is wrong with this horse.

She will not even let her new master, Dagianis, anywhere near her. And when he forces himself onto her back, she tosses him. She slams him against fences and trees. She bites. She is scheduled to be killed. Horse meat is filling. Bones and tendons can be useful. Her hair can make brushes and tools.

         And then, one day, there is a battle. The stable servants and all humans are gone, and she is stolen away once more by another.

It is Her Majesty that refuses to see this horse be put down, and so it is she that makes the decision to take her away. It takes several men to tack up the traumatized clydesdale mare, but it is that woman that Epona is oddly calm around that leads her out to pasture and beyond. She is tied to a post outside of a place that smells of underground, and hooves dig worried holes in sod as the post grows crooked from her restless pacing and tugging.

                                     She smells him before she sees him.

He smells the same. The scent of human, but her human. And he is thin, terribly so, looking gaunt and weak and she nearly rips the post out of the ground to get to him. To ensure he is real, to protect him, to reestablish their bond born from childhood--