#mo's posts

Link was no stranger to pain. With how often he'd been injured, one would think he’d grown accustomed to it by now. But alas, the purpose of pain was to know the ailments of the body, so every aching bruise and stinging abrasion felt fresh and new. It was a little different this time, as there was now a stubborn, pulsating, excruciating throb thrown into the mix. Coupled with the immobilization from the fracture, Link didn't think he could have moved even if he wanted to.

A muffled and weak whimper escaped him. If only he’d prepped before picking a fight with a lynel.

A distant rumbling echoed to the valleys of Akkala. Great, Link almost groaned aloud. A thunderstorm. The strawberry on top of the fruitcake. He felt clever with sarcasm, but knew that was no help to the situation.

“Okay,” he whispered to himself with a wheeze. “Have to find shelter.”

An annoying, sharp pain on the back of his head forced Link to survey the area without moving. The lynel had thrown him over the cliff side, and Link flew farther than he had anticipated. The fracture from his leg was from the initial landing, as his rag-dolled body had bounced against a few rocks and tumbled close to the center of the grassy ravine. A high pile of bushes managed to stop him from rolling any further (which, as Link thought, hurt like a bitch).

Thinking back, it was almost a blessing that he had landed here in the depths of the valley where lightning was less likely to strike. The problem resided more in the metal weaponry he was still equipped with. From experience, he knew metal and lightning were the perfect match for each other, but spelled disaster for the wielder. He had to shed them, and fast. But how could he? His weapons were, if nothing else, heavy. Right now he could barely lift his head, let alone a sword.

Link observed a small grove of trees close to his left, but they may as well have been lightning rods. “No good,” he huffed. A quick glance to the right revealed a large pond. Worse. Down was the most troublesome way of all—a stone skull dome where a blue bokoblin surveyed its surroundings from its lookout post. “Fucking hell,” Link swore under his breath. So much for luck.

A drop on his cheek pulled Link from his thoughts. Rain. Then, there was another on his hand.

Drip. Droplets. Downpour.

Well, that was quick, his mind grumbled.

Time was running out. Link only had two options: toss his metal weaponry aside and pray to Hylia he wouldn’t be struck by lightning, or try to crawl back to the underside of the cliff. Both sounded terrible, but regardless, he knew he needed to start moving. Somehow.

He closed his eyes, allowing the pains to subside with a few calming breaths, then heaved himself upward. The moment he moved, a feeling akin to an electric shock ran from the back of his head down through his spine. This shock caused his body to spasm, which sent another wave of pain crashing over him. It was a cruel joke. Like someone kept passing a torch of pain from one part of his body to another in a loop. Link barely, just barely, managed to avoid crying out by clenching his teeth. Couldn’t alert the bokoblins—or the goddamn lynel—of his presence.

Link instead let out a long, choked hiss. His hands curled into fists, gripping the grass until it tore from the dirt. It didn't help that the weapons strapped to his back pulled him down. He felt as though they were weights tied to his ankles, dragging him into the depths of a great sea to drown under.

Idiot, he chastised himself. There was an absurdly simple solution to this problem. He whispered curses in-between wheezes, reaching to unbuckle his straps and belts. It was done at a snail’s pace, as his fumbling fingers had a hard time with unlatching the hooks, but it brought a relief when the weight released from his chest. He could breathe again.

Sitting up was a much easier task without the armor on his back, but no less painful. And he realized, as he pulled himself to his good knee, that he was naked. Not literally, of course, but he may as well have been. Defenseless was probably a better word. Helpless.

It reminded him of the day he first awoke on the Great Plateau. How exhilarating it was to feel so free. But also very, very afraid.

Fear was a good thing, though. Fear kept Link alive. The lack of fear caused his unfortunate happenstance with the lynel, he realized. The lack of fear coincided with a complete lack of common sense. A new upgrade to his armor, a few new weapons at his disposal, and a recent purchase of some delightfully explosive bomb arrows. They were just begging to be tested. What could have gone wrong?

A ton of shit, apparently.

Despite his petty curses, he felt humbled.

Now, how to get out of here?

Link began to stand, but froze midway. A sensation of dread overwhelmed him as an icy breeze raised goosebumps on the back of his neck. It was more of a feeling or instinct.

Something was watching Link. He was sure of it.

His body turned cold, wrapping him up in a thick blanket of fear. Maybe it's an animal, he hoped, turning his head to search. It was an animal. Unfortunately, it was the worst possible kind of animal that could pass by him.

The lone gray and white wolf stood atop a boulder not twenty feet away from Link.

Oh, for the love of Nayru! He wanted to shout. Link crouched, or tried to, and reached for the hilt of his broadsword. It had been badly damaged in the lynel fight, but it had at least two or three good swings left until it would shatter. Just enough to deal with this kind of beast.

Link wanted to try something else first due to the terrible shape he was in. He grit his teeth, puffed out his chest—as best he could, considering it felt like he was stuck between the two metal grips of a vice—then showed the beast the fiercest glare he could muster. It didn't look all that fierce, considering he was still shaking and hissing in pain, but maybe he could scare it off.

It wasn't deterred, of course. Why wouldn't a wolf (or any predator, for that matter) be attracted to Link? He was an easy meal in this state, ripe for picking.

But the staring contest continued. Both held their ground, watching each other for even the slightest hints of movement. Link remained crouched. He held his glare, all the while pulling the broadsword from its sheath, inch by slow inch. The wolf stood tall, but without a sense of pride. And despite the odd, intense azure of its pupils looking into Link, it showed no malice.

Link always felt that the eyes of animals spoke to him. Just as a human would normally talk to communicate, so would animals with their expressions.

Normal wolves’ words were more more like instincts.

Hunger. Territory. Protect.

This one's seemed more intelligent than that.

Survey. Patience.

Link would have further questioned the strange behavior of the wolf, but their staring contest was interrupted by a bright flash at the top of the ravine. Lightning. The worst of the storm was still ahead.

“So, a fight it is then,” Link huffed to the wolf in a low growl. When the beast heard the voice, it straightened slightly, flicking its ears in Link’s direction. In response, Link fully grabbed the sword and flung it from its sheath. He pointed the blade at the beast, pivoting on his good foot to face the beast head on, and for a brief second his pain was forgotten. Link’s eyes only relayed one word: Survive.

The wolf reacted. It took a single, passive step forward, then backed away from the hero.

Link was mentally prepared to fight this animal to the death.

His body, however, had other plans.

A fierce jolt coursed through Link, from the tips of his toes up to his crown. It caused a sort of breathless chill to sweep through him. As a result, the world became a haze, his sight beginning to fail him as the lines of reality blurred together.

The wolf watched as Link’s sword faltered. The blade made a slow descent to the ground until it fell altogether. The hero followed right after, and his vision went black as the world turned on its side.

***

Link awoke to the feeling of fur rubbing against the back of his neck.

He felt warm and comfortable, like his upper half was surrounded by a warm soft bed. Something he hadn’t felt in a long time. Maybe one of the tamers at the nearby stable had found him, but it didn't really matter. He felt safe.

As his groggy mind came to reality, Link thought about what he would do when he was well enough to move around. Cooking was near the top of that list. Just the thought of a steamed hearty bass garnished with hyrule herbs made his mouth water. He also wouldn't mind going for a savory meat and mushroom skewer. How about some fucking fruitcake just for the sake of it? Hell, he'd cook himself a banquet. He deserved it after all the crap he went through today. Or yesterday...whenever.

He could hear the rain tickle the grass outside. Still dripping, but no thundering booms of lightning followed. Good. The storm was starting to pass.

Link breathed a small sigh of relief, another sense of safety calming him as he relaxed back into the bed. When his eyes fluttered open for the first time he could make out the warm glow of a fire. He closed them gently, trying to relax himself back into the throes of sleep.

Wait. Link’s eyes shot open. That’s not a fire.

The facade of security faded as his vision cleared. It took time for his tired eyes to focus, but even with blurred vision Link could see that the object in question wasn’t a fire. It was his great flameblade. The warm, glowing weapon leaned against the rocky wall beside him, mimicking a fire with the way it emanated heat. After another glance he saw that it wasn't just the blade leaning against the wall, but all of his other weapons as well.

Then Link realized his bed was moving—breathing, rather. Chills swept down his spine as his own breath stilled. It was something alive, for sure, and he needed to find out what. But how? By the sounds of snores and the fullness of its breaths, it was safe to assume it was asleep. Anything could wake it, and Link didn't want to find out what would happen if it did. After some debate he decided to turn his head with the speed of sludge. His eyes moved first and his head followed, only turning when the animal breathed out.

And he was met with the face of the gray wolf.

Link jerked at first, filled with panic, but a sharp ache in his chest stopped him right after. Probably the bruised lung or broken rib. He tried to suppress a yelp, using the same teeth-clenching technique from earlier. Regrettably, the sound instead came out as a loud, breathy trill.

Shit! Link’s brain shouted at itself. Cold chills of raw terror trickled to his stomach as the wolf shifted.

He’d woken it. He was dead meat.

Shit, Link swore once more for good measure. Then he closed his eyes, and forced his body to relax.

Breathe in.

Sometimes it's the haphazard, sloppily-thrown-together plan that winds up working. For Link, it was pretending to sleep.

Breathe out.

Pure panic coursed through his veins as he was sure the wolf could feel his frenzied heartbeat. Outwardly, his breaths were rhythmic and slow, and his expression peaceful (for the most part).

Breathe in.

This cycle continued for what felt like an eternity.

Breathe out.

Link felt the wolf shuffle and fidget for a little while, but before long it stopped. Only the slow, rhythmic breaths remained, similar in tempo to Link’s.

Link cracked open one eyelid and looked to the wolf's face.

Indeed, it had fallen back asleep.

After the initial relief wore off, Link's mind raced with thoughts. He needed to get away, somehow, as he was in no shape to fight the beast. His wounds were still fresh and untreated. Thankfully the pain had ebbed a little—enough for him to move, but not enough to flee.

Maybe he could try to slip away unnoticed. That would be difficult however, as the beast had encircled Link, pinning him in place.

That struck him as odd.

Why had he not been made a meal for the wolf? Come to think of it, who dragged his gear from the ravine and placed it against the wall? Surely not this creature; it was just an animal. How could it have done something like that with no hands or thumbs?

Link stopped fussing as he watched the beast sleep, instead trying to understand its behavior. It seemed peaceful, pulling in deep and slow breaths, but its ears flicked to whatever noises it came across in a defensive manner. Link felt like he was being guarded, like the wolf was protecting him for some reason.  

What, am I a pup or something? Link mused. He’d heard somewhere before that, on occasion, mother wolves who lost a litter would adopt another to foster. Link had to have been the oddest looking pup ever if that was the case. Besides, after a quick inspection he learned this wolf was male.

Link moved one of his arms to scratch the back of his head, baffled by this strange phenomenon. He was so lost in thought that it took a few seconds to realize the wolf had awoken. Its head faced the ravine, but its visible eye fixated on the injured hero.

Link jolted, once again forgetting that he’d been injured a few hours prior. He hissed as sharp, shooting pains ran up his leg from the movement, reminding him that it was indeed broken.

Despite this, the beast sat still.

It was as calm as the waters of a clear pond, but its gaze never left Link's. Link released a breath he didn't realize he was holding, though he remained in the same tense pose he had frozen himself in. His gaze left the beast for just a second, flickering to the wall, trying to find the weapon nearest him. When he looked back, he saw the wolf’s head had turned. It now fully faced him.

The sound of the rain intensified as an electrifying silence filled the little cave. The two were locked in a battle of wits. Neither moved. Neither wavered.

This thing is stubborn. Link felt a cold sweat bead along his forehead and neck. In truth, he was equally headstrong, but that was only natural considering the circumstances he was in.

Is it afraid of me? Link’s thoughts started to wander. It felt like eons since anything had happened. No, he decided. The wolf was just too calm to be fearful. While Link was still tensed, his hands tightened into fists and shoulders broad, the wolf was completely relaxed. It surrounded Link, crossing its front paws as it watched him. And still, just as before, the beast's eyes spoke with tenderness.

Curious. Calm.

Link’s expression warped. It started from a wide-eyed glare and subsided to a soft stare. If the wolf had any intention of harming him, it would have done that by now.

The beast noticed the change in Link’s demeanor. It shifted, turning closer to him.

Link held his breath again, another surge of fear rushing through him, but forced himself to release it. The wolf seemed much too intelligent for its kind, taking great pains to be careful as it inched forward.

Instead, Link’s eyes narrowed. “You saved me, didn’t you,” he muttered under his breath.

The wolf’s ears flicked to Link, and its head lifted to meet Link’s gaze. Yes, its eyes answered.

It was almost unnerving, how well it could read Link. Maybe it’s been domesticated, Link pondered. How else could it seem to have such an understanding of humans? Why else would it have saved him?

Then the wolf did something even stranger. It lowered its guard, closing its eyes and tilting its head towards the ground.

Trust.

Link's brow furrowed. What was the beast expecting of him now?

Without knowing what else to do, Link reached forward. His hand made a slow descent, shaking from fatigue and pain, but it soon found its place atop the wolf’s head. Was this what it wanted?

The wolf twitched with caution, but after a moment it relaxed underneath Link’s palm. Link too felt his shoulders sag with relief. Thank Hylia. The wolf had been his savior after all. He ran his fingers through the wolf’s coarse fur, from its forehead back to its mane. In response, the pacified beast came closer, leaning its head into Link’s hand as though requesting more pets. It appeared content.

“Thank you,” Link hummed out in a slow breath.

The wolf opened its eyes, turning its gaze upward to Link. It remained still for a moment. Then, with less caution, it inched forward and rested its snout on his thigh.

The injured hero smiled. He had found his first friend on this lonely journey.