#tw:pain

Enji groaned, hand smoothing back the gel that kept his scarlet hair in place. Everything felt hot, his breath was hot, the air was hot, even the leather chair underneath him felt hot. The planet's must've aligned to allow Mr. Todoroki to be thankful, thanking luck that he had been in such a hurry and had forgotten to put his jacket back on. The room felt like an oven so he could only imagine the sweltering heat if he was wearing the navy blue cover.

Rolling up his shirt sleeve he folded the cuffs up towards his elbow, hoping his forearms would catch any light breeze and cool his overheating body. Enji wasn't a man who could go to the gym on a daily, or even weekly, basis yet he still retained his muscles. Finding shirts that weren't tailor made was difficult to his unconscious habit of ripping the seams whenever he flexed, buttons bopping, fabric stretching until all that was left were threads and slabs of fabric. His arms were like the trunks of a great oak tree. Long, wide and covered with scars from his youth. His second defining feature besides his pectorals that connected to his personal favorite feature: his hands.

Oh, he knew very well that he had a hand kink. Twice the size of anyone else's his palm alone could smother a face with thick and wide fingers made it easy to thread into hair and grip a scalp with one hand. They could spread legs apart with ease and when they plunged inside a cunt it was all the prep they needed for his cock. Seeing his hand wrapped around a pretty throat riled him up like nothing else and leading someone's head up and down as he used their mouths as a cocksleeve the best stress reliever. Which was the very thing he was getting to.

One of the massive hands darted underneath the table to spread apart the flaps of his slacks, the zipper as far down as it could go but it still wasn't enough. His scorching cock hanging out in the shadow of the table as drool and pre cascaded down his calf towards his leather loafer. The evidence of lipstick smeared across his prominent V-Line made a messy trail towards the base of his manhood. Your lipstick. The gaudy color you promised to wear if he brought you to work. How could he not take up your offer to pleasure him during his work hours? You knew how hard he worked and how little time you got to spend with him. This was the best solution wasn't it?

"You dirty slut." The same hand gripped the chunk of hair at the crown of your head to pull you up from underneath the table. Your knees lifting off the uncomfortable carpet beneath you by the sheer strength Enji displayed without even realizing. The light hurt your bleary eyes, making you tear up even more than you already were from the burn in your jaw. A light shining on your filthy deeds underneath the table. "You nearly gave it away, whore. What do you think would happen to my reputation if they found out my slutty wife was sucking me off in front of them?"

There was no chance to answer as the other hand came down hard against your cheek, leaving a handprint shaped welt on that side of your face. You may as well have been fucked dumb by the cloudy film over your loving eyes and the lopsided grin that grew from the pain. How lucky was he to find an escort like you years ago who could keep up with his sadistic desires. What turned from a business arrangement to release his pent up frustration out on you turned into you becoming his pretty spouse. His cock twitching against your chest as he caught sight of that big, fat diamond ring on your left hand.

"That's right, you're too dumb to fucking care aren't you? Just my dumb, personal cocksleeve. Get back to work and do better this time, if I hear so much as a slurp during the next meeting then you're going to regret it." The jerk of his wrist pulled at your hair, the sharp pain sending pleasure right to your dripping sex as his hand guided your mouth back onto his cock. Tip prodding your stained lips open to be shoved back down into your throat with an obscene gag, the saltiness and burn coming right back as he assaulted your mouth to his pleasure.

There were two pieces of white tape on each nipple, a third over your pussy mound and a fourth over your mouth, effectively keeping your moans and whimpers to a mumble. You’re suspended, safely held by ropes around your waist, across your ribcage and up past your head to the ceiling.

He moves slowly, teasingly, his smile wide yet lazy. He drags his fingers up the side of your thigh, caressing the soft skin, and your breath comes out hot against your upper lip from your nose. Your safe word is three quick screams, from behind your gagged lips, or three stomps of your feet.

Sero kneels in front of you, large hands sliding down the front of your body, resting by your ankles and the edge of his tape. He begins to pull. The tape peels from your skin, some hairs plucking with it, inch by inch, and you writhe from the pain. It’s so minuscule, so slow, that it’s over before it even begins. It trickles up your legs and body in a spiral as he unravels his quirk, removing it from your body. You’re moaning, tears pricking up at the corners of your eyes, and where it stings, there’s an ice cube instantly cooling your flesh, then lips kiss you, making its way up until the sensitive skin of the back of your knees. When all the tape is off, and your legs are free, Sero massages up, dotting kisses and licks, mumbling about how brave you are, how sweet, how beautiful and strong. He stops when he’s risen up, his face directly in line with your sex, and you stare down at him as he looks up at you with cheeky half-lidded eyes, placing a light, barely touching kiss to the strip of tape as he stands.

Before you register what’s next, a tape rips itself from your right nipple, the burn scorching and you cry out, a warm palm with cool fingers applying pressure to the waxed area, massaging as lips kiss down the length of your neck, whispering soothing words into your ear.

“You okay, princess?” the words caress your heated flesh, pain on the surface but pleasure buried so deep inside it leaks through your pores. You nod, knowing he expects an answer, and those iced finger tips feel between your legs at your sopping core, making you moan and the tape vibrates against your lips. “Good girl, you’re drenched.”

A finger presses inside, making your eyes flutter at the intrusion, and as it pumps, the tape on your left nipple tears away, and you cry out, squeezing your walls around Sero’s finger, dragging him deeper inside. He chuckles, pulling out until just the tip of his index finger touches you, before inserting a second finger. The stretch his delicious, much thicker than your own fingers, and moving at an angle you never reach with your own wrist. It’s bliss, and you’re so overstimulated on the surface that your insides hum with electricity. You need more.

A needy whine escapes from your chest and your head falls back; it’s an invitation that Sero gladly accepts as his lips leave bruising marks against the supple skin of your neck. Right when you think you’re breathing levels and his lips feel like home, he pinches the side of your waist, making you jolt and squeak in surprise. It illicits a rumble from deep inside him, his smile widening beneath glinting eyes. You hum out his name, the syllables oddly sounding like both “Hanta” and “Daddy” at the same time.

“Mmm, tape on your nipples is fine, but a little tweak is not? Okay, babygirl, noted,” he says, the hand dancing down your side and wrapping around to grab a palmful of your ass. The heat on your cheeks is ferocious as you blush, shaking your head in response, neither meaning yes or no, just movements from the growing ache in your core.

Your walls are pulsing around his fingers, willing him to move faster, deeper, but he smirks as he curls them up. The hand on your ass moves forward to thumb your clit, rolling the nerves together and you fall limp, hips gyrating to find any kind of friction. You don’t even notice the edges of the tape curl up, and when the pressure from your clit disappears, the palm of his hand keeps your skin taught while the tape is pulled up and away.

The room is filled with your shriek, and you’re sure the window cracked. Your tears roll freely down your cheeks. Oh GOD, that hurt! The fingers in you slip out and in an instant an ice cube from the bowl on the floor is against your mound, cooling down the skin. You glare at your boyfriend, trying to sniffle up fluids from your nose, your leg bouncing impatiently against the thrum of pain between your legs. Still, you don’t use the safety movement, and Sero is quick to soothe you, applying pressure against your inflamed skin while he holds up the tape in front of your face.

“Look at that hair, princess, cleanly ripped with the root,” and it is, the pubic hair bulbs dark against the stark white of his tape, extremely satisfying to see as the strip moves in a wave. “But look at what a mess your face is.” He tuts as the tape is folded between his hands. His thumbs swipe at your tears and the snot is wiped away with the clean portion of the strip. You mumble against your closed lips, feeling incredibly aroused as the pain subsides to pleasure, the build up of your almost orgasm lingering in the pit of your belly. You’re finding it incredibly hard to stay still, aching to feel his touch again.

Sero notices you’re trying to speak, and the tape around your mouth is tugged off, saliva dripping down your chin as it mixes with remaining tears.

“I swear to God, Hanta, you need to fuck me right now,” you threaten slightly, voice desperate but stern, the way you know he responds to. He loves it when you can’t wait to feel him inside you.

All of the images below are “color-coded” and graded. The experiments start out fairly tame, then get worse... and worse... and worse. The backgrounds reflect this, going from fairly light to quite dark.

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Experiment #1 - Tail Flick Test

A fairly harmless experiment. The subject is mostly restrained, leaving only their tail exposed. An intense light beam is projected onto the exposed appendage, with the animal flicking their tail when the pain/heat becomes too much. This test is utilized in basic pain research and to measure analgesic effectiveness.

I wanted Brain to wear an expression of deep apathy -- he’s done this a million times and will probably do it a million times more. At this point, he doesn’t even care anymore.

For the background, I simply copied an environment in one of the videos I found.

Video example: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BzrA1tDTfkQ

Experiment #2 - Rotarod Performance Test

Another experiment that’s generally harmless. One or multiple subjects are placed on elevated rotating rods so as to measure such things as endurance, balance, grip strength, and more.

I imagine Pinky would enjoy this test, as he’s familiar with running on a wheel and actually enjoys more strenuous activities. Brain, on the other hand, would only participate via sheer force. He’d also be more prone to fall after a shorter period of time, getting tired faster than his cage mate.

Video example: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v56MtrmWAs0

Experiment #3 - Shot (General)

Nothing special. Just Brain about to get shot.

This is all highly exaggerated, of course. A mouse would simply be held firmly, not strapped down, for a simple injection. Also, I can’t imagine why they’d be shot in the face, although Meg told me that scientists tend to draw blood samples from a mouse’s cheek. Need to look that up. I wasn’t at all going for accuracy here, but rather how it might feel -- how scary it would be.

Experiment #4 - Sciatic Nerve Constriction

An experiment in chronic neuropathic pain, due to the central or peripheral nervous system sustaining damage. Under anesthesia, the animal’s sciatic nerve is exposed via skin incision. The connective tissue between the biceps femoris muscles and the gluteus superficialis is cut. The nerve is then loosely tied with four chrome gut ligatures so to occlude, but not arrest, blood flow. The wound is sutured, the animal is given 24 hours to recover, and then both hindpaws are tested for pain sensitivity. Sounds terrible, but it’s certainly not the worst of the experiments I researched.

I have no idea what’s going on with the coloring in this. Again, going for feel more than accuracy, but the hues are way too calm.

Information link: https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmed/22433911

Experiment #5 - Writhing Test

Particularly cruel test in which acetic acid is introduced into the system, inducing severe internal pain. The typical response includes writhing, abdominal retraction, and stretching of the hind limbs. Despite the test being withdrawn in 2004 for unethical reasons, it is still employed by some.

This was my favorite one to draw. Although the lighting and shading are not the greatest, it made for an interesting experiment. I did not intend for the lines to be so bold, but it kind of turned into an almost comic-style illustration. I ended up playing around with it a bit and like the result enough to post it.

I would not watch the video below if you are squeamish. It is difficult to swallow. On another note, you may find the “Empathetic Behavior: Emotional Contagion in Mice” section in the second link of interest. For cage mates in particular, if one or both mice were injected with the same acid, and allowed to observe one another, an injected mouse would writhe more if its partner was also in pain. I can’t help but imagine Brain and Pinky in this type of situation....

Information link #1: https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC3543562/

Information link #2: https://www.sciencedirect.com/topics/biochemistry-genetics-and-molecular-biology/writhing-test

Video example: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ib63O4F856w

Experiment #6 - Transgenic K5ras Mouse / Nude Mouse (Combination)

Experiment in which cancer is induced in the system. Nude mice are bred for a number of tests, and are used for this one, as well.

My least favorite to draw, but my favorite to color. One particular experiment I found showed a tumor in every follicle on a mouse’s muzzle. Was trying to go for this look, albeit exacerbated.

Information link #1: https://www.cell.com/current-biology/fulltext/S0960-9822(98)70203-9?_returnURL=https%3A%2F%2Flinkinghub.elsevier.com%2Fretrieve%2Fpii%2FS0960982298702039%3Fshowall%3Dtrue

Information link #2: https://www.motherjones.com/politics/2012/08/weirdest-lab-mice/

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Bonus:

This is based on a test that I found absolutely hilarious. There’s a certain chemical, called W-18, that’s been on the drug market for... some years. The potency of it is supposedly insanely high, although this has never been proven. It’s basically a research chemical (created at a university in the 80s) with analgesic properties that were shown to be “painkillers or blockers of the painkilling effect of morphine in mice”. Mice, not humans. To quote a specific article:

“... when they first injected some of these chemicals into the animals at a dose similar to aspirin, the mice stood up for about a minute and fell over unconscious. They remained unconscious – for five days. But they weren’t dead. They were still breathing. And when they woke, they seemed fine, other than being really hungry and thirsty.”

They literally keeled over from the supposed potency of it. From what I recall, they don’t even know exactly what it was doing to their system, other than the fact that it knocked them out. I just find it funny that they were completely fine after awakening days later.

Although the pure smell of it wouldn’t cause such a reaction, I liked the idea of it in picture form and so depicted Brain simply taking a whiff before passing out.

Information link: https://www.forbes.com/sites/davidkroll/2016/04/30/w-18-the-high-potency-research-chemical-making-news-what-it-is-and-what-it-isnt/#2c45a5dd4757

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Experiments researched, but not implemented:

- Tail dipped in ice cold water (mentioned here: cold water) - Morris water maze - Porton Down nerve agent test(s) (the worst; not even sure how I’d depict this)

The Porton Down tests sounded so indescribably cruel that I simply couldn’t bear to put Brain or Pinky through either of those, much less draw them out. It was the most horrific of the experiments I found, second only to a story about a French physiologist in the 1700s/1800s who performed, I believe, vivisection on live, six-week-old puppies. There’s a limit and that’s my limit. Even the cancer-based composition above was difficult to create. I legit felt dirty drawing it.

Researching these subjects was incredibly interesting, and I came across a few articles that touched on animal experimentation and the question of whether or not it’s ethical. Should such practices continue? It’s more complicated than a simple “yes” or no” answer. Some tests are fairly harmless, whilst others border on the inhumane, and some are downright cruel. Some people say that, without testing, there would be a lot less medicine on the shelves to assist in relieving and curing our ailments, whilst others argue that 90+% of the time the testing done is unnecessary, the results yielded by the subjects dissimilar to those that would be shown by humans and, henceforth, stating that the inaccuracies are numerous. This particular article offered up what I thought was a pretty genuine and interesting debate on the matter:

Pain in Lab Animals: How Much is Too Much?

In an interview with Dr. Jeffrey Mogil, a neuroscientist, he mentions that:

“You have complete control over everything in mice. Within limits, you can do whatever you want as long as you minimize pain and suffering of the subjects.“

Full interview: https://www.integrativepainscienceinstitute.com/latest_podcast/sex-differences-in-pain-and-pain-inhibition-with-dr-jeffrey-mogil/

While many establishments do follow the Animal Welfare Act, other laboratories still implement unethical practices. Also, the rules for what constitutes as acceptable in regards to tests that can only be performed without painkillers or anesthesia administered is... nebulous.

Thankfully, there is a number of lab testing equipment on the market specifically designed to be more humane and less stress-inducing to its subjects. These restrainers, for example, allow the animal to “walk in” without having to be physically forced backwards into a container:

Restrainers

Here is another example of testing that is relatively pain-free:

https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC4401362/

It’s simple and inexpensive while still allowing scientists to perform tests.

Below is a video showing how a type of rotarod works, one that doesn’t place the rods too high and provides a cushion underneath in case the subjects fall:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=T38fDS2i13k

This tail flick analgesia meter comes installed with a cut off timer to avoid damage to the animal:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JgaStZt143o

So there are options. How often are such options utilized in the field? I have no idea, although there are laws that should be followed and, from the sound of it, generally are adhered to. Not everyone in this business is cruel. Though you do have your occasional psychopath who performs very morally questionable operations behind closed doors, I believe that this is a great exception to the rule, and that there are a lot of laboratory workers who genuinely want to inflict as little pain as possible upon the animal. Just an opinion. I don’t have tons of evidence, but it seems like most people are sane. Lol.

Most of the experiments I inflicted upon Brain because, I think, Pinky is so pure that I have a hard time imagining him sustaining any kind of extreme pain that would genuinely hurt him. Also, he borders on being freakin’ masochistic, finding pleasure in a lot of painful situations, whereas Brain does not. Brain has been through a lot, mentally and physically. It seemed more... “appropriate” to put him in these situations, as terrible as that sounds.

Chapter 1: Dagger and Arrow

If there was anything she was completely positive about, it was that death wasn’t painless and enchanting hurt even worse. 

*

She had felt death before.

It was a white, hot pain. Racing through her veins and making her muscles stiffen and squeeze as if she’d been struck by lightning instead of stabbed by a sword. Sometimes in her dreams it starts in the tips of her fingers, others it begins as a heavy weight on her chest. 

All times it hurts and it lingers. Swirling in her abdomen, making her feel sick as she briefly registers that her head was spinning, and the world felt very, very far away. Slowly, the edges of her vision would creep in. The commotion and screaming around her fading away till it was nothing but dull chatter.

Eventually, there would be silence and darkness. The pain ended just about then.

Yes, she’d felt death before. Or at least the worst parts of it. However now, standing in the middle of the Akkala Forge and staring at the lone dagger that sat on its pedestal in the centre of the black marble table…

She realised that on days like these, enchanting sometimes felt worse than dying.

The task was simple enough. The same she was given each month after weeks spent in study and preparation, training both her mind and body before her mentor deemed her ready to perform the procedure. 

Enchant the blade, make it work.

Gently, she exhaled a long, tired breath, glancing at the rune in disdain. There it was, marring the surface of her hand like it always did. An ancient pattern carved deep into her skin like a raised scar. The shape that looked almost like an eye at its middle seemed to stare back at her. What are you waiting for? It seemed to say. 

The rune had been there for as long as she could remember. It was the one thing she had left of her past, and also the main thing that reminded her of what her purpose was right now. 

Every attempt she’d made on enchanting a weapon had ended in failure, some more spectacularly terrible than the last. However today, on the eve of her twenty-fourth birthday, she was determined. She’d studied even harder this year, dedicating much of her free time to observing the smiths, and the rest to visualising the procedure. Today was the day she was to complete what was set out for her.

Gritting her teeth, she focused on the target and fanned her palm open.

The weather in the forge immediately shifted, transitioning from a stagnant cold, to a thick blanket of humidity. It was stifling, heavy in the same way the air would feel in the moments before a storm. 

The energy lying dormant in her veins ignited like a spark, low pitched and buzzing, singing loud and clear in her ears.

Bracing herself, a familiar burning sensation raced from her outstretched palm to the rest of her body, making her bite her lip as she focused on not calling out from how much it hurt.

The feeling worsened with every minute, the magical energy in her left hand pulsing to the beat of her racing heart. Carefully, she bent her ring finger inward, watching the rune illuminate in a blazing flash of blue light.

In an instant, jets of fire crawled up from the edges of the rune and into her five fingers, casting an eerie, orange glow on her pained face and making the air smell of charcoal. She pushed the fire further, the pain in turn worsening and making her head spin. 

Lines of fire raced out from her fingertips, wrapping themselves around the hilt of the dagger first and embedding themselves into the detail. The silver metal, now hot and red, began to melt and warp as the fire travelled up, searing a blazing trail into the metal of the knife.

Then came the worst part. Grimacing in anticipation, she grabbed the blade. 

The first time she had attempted the sealing stage, she had passed out in the workshop. It was the middle of winter then, five years ago. 

(She woke up the next day to the sterile chill of the village infirmary, sore as hell and smelling like a campfire.)

With time, she eventually learned to look past the spots that formed in her vision, fighting through the dull ache in her body and willing herself to stay awake. However, even with years of practice, her body wasn’t fully immune to the procedure’s effects.

She eventually discovered that at her level, her enchanting had a time limit:

Five minutes.

One. She closed her eyes and focused deeply on the blade, imagining the fire as she coaxed it to slither its way into the molecular structure of the dagger, willing it to wrap itself around the rapidly vibrating atoms like a snake in a birds nest. 

Two. With a shaking hand, she lifted the mallet she held in her other palm high into the sky, aligning it with the red star she had painted on the ceiling as a guide. Exhaling a gust of air, warm as oven smoke, she brought the mallet down, letting go of the blade in the same instant. 

Three. The black stone table she worked on shook lightly from the force. In contrast, the dagger she had just struck went immediately still. Steam began to lift from it, small flames licking its edges and casting the room in shadows. 

Four. She felt her focus waver, clutching her hand and falling to her knees-

Not yet! Not done yet! 

A bead of sweat dripped from her forehead, seeming to evaporate before it hit the ground below. 

Five. She dropped the mallet, shakily rising to her feet and swiping the thick cream coloured cloth at the edge of the table, quickly wrapping the burning blade in the material and extinguishing the rising flames.

Release! She ordered it, and the fire and burning in her veins were no more.

For a while, she stood there panting, clutching her shoulder as residual phantom pains echoed in her left hand. 

Swallowing her nausea, her right hand lifted the dagger to the dusty light filtering from the forge’s window. She marvelled at how heavy it suddenly felt, the metal, whilst still hot, laying cold in her hands as if never kissed by flame in the first place. 

She had done it. Her first successful attempt amongst so many. 

“Congratulations, Maiya.”

Maiya jumped, quickly whipping around to face the person standing behind her, still clutching the dagger. 

It was a tall woman, almost seven feet in height. She was wrapped in a dark cloak with light blue intricate designs laced into its sleeves and hood. Her bright, silver locks stood out amongst the darkness, cropped short and slicked back, her wrinkled face clear of distractions just as she likes it.

Seeing who it was, Maiya’s face broke out in a large grin. “Teacher! How long were you standing there for? I did it! I finally did it!”

If she wasn’t paying attention, she wouldn’t have caught the brief, small smile that flashed across her mentor’s face before it was replaced by her ever customary frown.

“I was here for long enough. You did well, my dear.“ 

Her mentor took a step forward, reaching out for the dagger with a black gloved hand. She peeled back the cloth slowly, revealing the enchanted blade underneath.

It was red. Bright red. With orange light glowing and racing its way from the hilt to the sharpened tip, embedding itself into the dagger’s swirling detail and setting the dimly lit room alight. 

"It’s time you find a master for this dagger.”

Maiya opened her mouth, questions bubbling to the surface as her mentor continued. 

“Rito Village, in the upper north western corner of Hyrule, is where you will go.”

“But why-”

“The land is filled to the brim with monsters made of ice and snow. The people there will benefit greatly from a warrior skilled in handling an enchanted blade of fire, no?”

At that, Maiya’s mouth ran dry of complaints, her words evaporating in the heat of the workshop’s air. It was no use arguing with her mentor at this point. But a lingering thought still hovered in her mind like a dark cloud.

“The land is quite far, teacher,” she whispered, looking everywhere but the woman in front of her. She braced for a sharp reprimand for her obvious sign of childish weakness, and was surprised when none came.

“I understand, child. However, I believe it’s time that you venture beyond the borders of this town and see for yourself the riches and diversity of the world around you." 

Her piercing grey eyes seemed to cut into Maiya’s darker ones, distant and glassy. Seeing something she couldn’t.

"An evil is building, my dear. And we must be ready. You learn nothing if you allow fear to dictate your freedom.”

Maiya dropped her gaze to her hands. The rune, ugly and deep, cut through the tan skin on the surface of her left. It stood out, angry and red, contrasting greatly with the smooth, unmarked skin of her right. 

“What of my other element, Teacher? The one that I will carve into my right hand when I am ready?”

“It is ice, is it not?”

Maiya nodded.

“We will begin preparations once you return.” Her wrinkled face twitched into a smirk. “Perhaps the environment will give you some ideas.”

With that, her mentor put both hands on her student’s shoulders, steering her away from the stone bench and leading her to the exit.

“You will be fine, Maiya. Now prepare, I will arrange a space for you in the next merchant trip to the region. Pack warm, you leave in three days.”

———————

Thud. The arrow embedded itself into the center of the target. Thud, thud, thud! Three more, dead centre again, each piercing through the previous arrows with deadly accuracy. 

Thud! Another, still in the centre of the target but slightly askew by a millimeter.

Revali frowned, wiping his brow and nocking another arrow onto his bow. Not good enough.

The forest outskirts a few hours from Rito Village was not his usual training spot. The wind was still fair, and the targets numerous (with hundreds of trees to choose from), but it still didn’t pack the same challenge, the same dramatic drop, the same chilling and powerful air of his beloved Flight Range in the Hebra Mountains. 

However, today marked the culmination of months of training for several of their new aerial recruits, and said Flight Range was therefore currently swamped by excitable Rito’s raring to get a few targets in before the sun set on the horizon. 

And as much as he would love to provide them with a generous demonstration on the highest level one can reach as a skilled archer such as himself, he didn’t believe he had the patience to deal with any novices today.

So…the forests will have to do.

Thud! The arrow went, embedding itself again in the middle of the target and cutting through the three previous others with a bit more force than usual.

The blue-feathered Rito reached into his quiver, picking out and nocking three arrows in one fluid motion. The world around him sharpened, then blurred. Three painted trees for three arrows, his vision hyper fixating on the first, second, then the third.

One breath, another. Now. 

The first arrow sang through the forest, embedding itself into a target hanging from a tree to his left. The second, whizzed past a bit further, passing through the leaves and piercing the hidden bullseye that he had placed underneath the foliage.

The third arrow travelled the furthest. Revali aimed to hit one of the more difficult targets he had planted several meters away. The tree was an ancient oak with leaves mostly orange, swaying lightly in the chill autumn breeze. 

Revali’s gaze sharpened. The arrow dipped and flew, dancing with the movement of the wind, quickly approaching the woman with dark hair that had just stepped in the way.

Wait.

What?

“Watch out!”

It all unfolded instantly. The Rito, in shock, slinging his bow over his shoulder and sprinting towards her, stopping to shield his eyes from the flash of a bright blue light. The woman, in a bizarre twist of luck and fate, hearing his voice and turning at the last minute, the arrow missing her head by an inch and cutting a diagonal line through her long, braided hair.

Silence reigned through the forest for a second. Then:

“WHAT THE FU-”

“YOU NEARLY KILL-”

The Rito stepped forward, pointing an accusing wing at the stranger. “Don’t you dare voice a stupid accusation such as that, I had no intentions of harming you.” He narrowed his eyes, suddenly feeling suspicious. It was rare to see Hylians frequenting this side of the woods, especially with the recent increase of monster activity and abundance of natural predators hiding in the thickets. 

Furthermore, although he doubted her involvement with the troublesome Yiga Clan, whose members have often been known to terrorize the odd lone traveler, he didn’t want to take any chances. “What are you doing wandering the middle of the Tabantha wild? The next Hylian-managed town is more than an hour away.”

He was surprised at the fury in her tone as she tilted her head up to snarl at him. “First of all, birdie, this forest is open to the public. No one owns these trees.” He opened his mouth to bite out a seething retort, but she stepped forward, pushing a finger underneath his beak to snap it shut. He spluttered. 

“Second of all, I’m taking a shortcut. I’ve been travelling west for three bloody weeks and it has been absolute hell. I’m sleep deprived, hungry, and tired. And I’m in a hurry! So unless you know anything about a place called ree-too Village, I’ll be on my way." 

Revali glared. At least that clears a few things up. Were all Hylians this demanding and foolish, or was it just the ones Valoo above was adamant in acquainting him with?

He pushed away the offending finger and rolled his eyes.

"Firstly it’s pronounced ree-toe. Secondly,” he said, mocking her manner of speech, “No. I don’t know anything about the village of which I was hatched and spent most of my life and waking hours. Whatever led you to such a ridiculous notion?”

He raised an eyebrow, watching- bemused, as a dust of pink crept its way onto the haggard woman’s cheeks. It was adorable, really. If only he wasn’t so pissed.

He took her silence as his cue to continue. 

“I wasn’t hatched yesterday. You’re obviously lost. However, to avoid you waltzing into another unsuspecting warrior’s weapon range, I suggest that you continue eastwards that way." 

His bow gleamed in the afternoon sunlight as he used it to point towards a structure which towered and peaked over the top of the trees. "See that stone pillar over there? That’s Valoo’s Spire, follow it and you will eventually reach the shore of Lake Totori. You will meet the Great Hylian Highway once again, and if you manage to follow it this time, the bridge to the village will be made apparent to you.”

He smirked, crossing his wings and tilting his head. Amusingly, she was about a head shorter than him, and she had to lift her dark eyes to the sky to glare at him. “Got all that? Because if not, good luck as I am not the type to repeat myself to idiots who ignore my knowledgeable advice.”

“Alright thanks, whatever,” she sighed, grabbing an elastic from her pocket and pulling her now asymmetrical hair into a haphazard ponytail. She turned “Try not to kill anyone with that bow, Fly Boy,” she called over her shoulder. 

A few strands of uneven, dark hair came free as she walked away. He couldn’t help it. “A very creative haircut, Strange Hylian!”

“Oh shut up!” A shrill yell replied, echoing from the other end of the forest and scaring several birds from their perches. 

He squawked out a sharp laugh at that.

A few seconds passed and she was finally out of his line of vision. Revali of the Rito was happily alone once again. 

“What an unusual and infuriating woman,” he muttered. He had been distracted and decided that now was a good time as any to take a few minutes to collect his discarded arrows and reset his targets.

Revali trudged towards the oak tree where the troublesome arrow was embedded, feeling slightly amused at the trail of shorn dark hair a few steps away.

He reached out towards the arrow, eyes widening in surprise as he stepped closer.

The once brown wood of the arrow shaft was an ashy, crumbling black. The bird feathers of its fletching emitted an unpleasant sulphurous odour, and the metal of its arrowhead was warped and melted like silver molten clay.

It was completely burnt. 

A strong wind blew through the trees, rustling through his feathers as he took a careful step back.