“ you think me moved by such a piece? hah. i’ve heard more sense in the hollow cries of dying beasts. “ he shrugs aside her want for life’s preservation, as though she speaks of something unobtainable and false. well, in some regards she is. what need does he hold to keep life so precious in his thoughts? he is but a lance attached to a man, rage angled in its point as he faces down the opposition. for her kingdom, no less. does she wish him spare mercy for her own foes? he cannot help but find it tedious all the same.
“ the beasts do battle at your gates and you would have me treasure their life? the soldiers which rally at your demise? the heretics which pray only for ganondorf’s return? nay, you are still young but surely even you can see the folly in your words. foolishness and ignorance do breed a defeated king. you wish me to see some worth in them, some fragment of humanity? your reign shall be at an end upon the song of a new war, if you treat their lives as you would your own. “
he growls in his refusal at her claims, turning so that he stands face forward to the arch of her garden’s gates, the peak of her castle’s tower a sword within the setting sun. “ you may play all the peaceful games you wish, your highness. i only care for slaughtering the enemies which lie in wait for you once more. “
