â... ... ... ... ... ... ... âOh, worm?ââ
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â... ... ... ... ... ... ... âOh, worm?ââ

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Youâve turned your satchels and clothing inside out and torn apart even the most improbably small corners of the bunkhouse, but not only are your various weapons, supplies, and stash of food gone (even the apples...), the Sheikah Slate which had never left your sight since you got it is now nowhere to be found. The frantic search turned up the Master Sword at least, but youâre not sure itâs physically capable of going missing.
But, you must have gotten here somehow. Maybe your things were dropped somewhere along the way... itâs with this logic in mind that youâre now out in the snow-cloaked streets, eyes fixed on the ground in search of anything even remotely rectangular, or otherwise familiar.
You come to an abrupt stop as you collide with something firm and unexpectedâwith someone.
â...â A bashful expression takes the place of an apology. But before you can scurry away, you realize: they might have seen something.
â...H...Hey.â Words are hard, and your throat is dry. âHave you seen a...â you trail off as you realize you donât even know a general term for the artifact. You mime holding a rectangular object, touching a screen. Itâs probably not very informative. âThing? About this big... it shows pictures?â
âDo you think we could start a white hair club here?â No privileges, they just have tea every so often.
   âi guess this might as well happen.â
yuriâs found himself in yet another situation. waking up in an unfamiliar room, in an unfamiliar bed, wrapped up in unfamiliar blankets - it isnât the best feeling. especially not when your headâs pounding, whispers of a word youâve only heard in regards to fairy tales ricocheting around inside your skull. also, his throat still feels sore - as if heâs been yelling. has he? who knows. there was that dream, but... wait, was it a dream? somehow, it felt more real than reality itself.
creepy.Â
anyway, the room didnât seem especially suspicious - or even uncomfortable, at that - but no amount of warm blankets could ever make up for the absurdity factor. he booked it outside the moment he could and was greeted by this expanse of snow and a town heâs definitely never visited before.Â
heâs been wandering aimlessly for a while now. at least the second starâs with him. sheathed and dangling at his side; heâs glad to have a weapon. too bad artes are out of the question. the unnatural lightness of his wrist is a constant reminder that his bodhi blastiaâs gone... along with his axe and gauntlet.
itâs unnerving, but thereâs no point in panicking. yuriâs life seems to be a compilation of weird shit happening. this is just another instance of it.Â
at any rate, the best place to go in a situation like this is probably the local tavern. he can pick up on whateverâs going on based on the gossip... and gauge just how real that dream was while heâs at it. too bad his sense of directionâs as, uh, questionable as ever.
a few people are around. might as well ask someone and save some time... before he freezes over in this cold.
   âhey.â reaching out to someone who just happens to be passing by, he rests a hand on their shoulder. âyou have any idea where the tavernâs at?âÂ
     Look at the ground. You just kicked something that was buried under the snow. What could it be?! A log? A rock? Buried treasure? That pair of keys that you lost three years ago?
     Aw, too bad.
     Itâs just a kid.

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  to say that this was Shoâs least favorite job so far was a massive understatement. itâs obvious from every moment spent at the warmhouse would rather be spent somewhere else; maybe he canât walk out and abandon this place ( he thought about it, he really did ) but nothing restricted him from complaining rather loudly about every thing he found disagreeable, which he does at every given opportunity.
  unfortunately, he does this instead of actually listening to what the weird bird-kid ( theyâre older than you, Sho ) is telling him to do. his first patient comes in and Sho is all confidence and and snarky comments right up until the patient sits on the cot in front of him. he takes the time to actually look at the wound, and right as he starts plotting out his next actions, he freezes.Â
  when was the last time he actually treated a wound physically? ( never. )
  itâs painfully obvious that he has no idea what to do first, but he refuses to voice any question about it. needing help from someone else, after all this? no way. he could figure this out. sho looked from the wound to the supplies, and back to the wound again.Â
fuck.
While the other activities present during this festival were interesting, as well as learning a little more about the stories told within the village, there was one he found much more interesting than the rest. Fencing. Sure, it was different from how he usually fought with a sword, yet he was interested regardless.
The wooden sword in his hands was lighter than his katana, yet that certainly wasnât going to stop him. With a few practice swings, he quickly looks around the area, spotting a few people watching.
âSo! Who wants to fight?!â He seems a little too excited about this.
     whatâs a yellow dot in a sea of white? well, if you guessed a really grumpy dragon shoveling the bunkhouseâs path, then youâre right ! itâs very clear that she would rather be doing anything rather than this, but sheâs been feeling restless & unsure of what to do here; & hey, the shovel was right there.
  â oh dad, youâre so full of bullâ... blah blah blah, â be a good kid and go shovel â he said ! â exercising always makes you feel better â HE. SAID. â her every word is punctuated by an aggressive swing of her shovel.Â
     though manual labor was never been a problem for yang, itâd certainly help if she had the appropriate gear for this weather; her boots were still the same, in fact, all of her outfit was the same, save for a furred coat tossed over her shoulders. to everyoneâs surprise, sheâs still not frozen, for whatever reason it may be... what isnât a surprise, however, is how she ungracefully slips on ice & lands on a pile of snow. if only her humiliation had stopped there -- she hears someone approaching.
   â ...h -hey there. donât mind me. iâm just, uh... taking a break ? iâm taking a break. â