AnomalouslyScribed



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    “How do you feel?” the Zora pressed after a very long moment, rocking forward just a little, eyes wide with worry. Her hands and arms were painted in soul paint of varying shades and colors, all plainly visible in her loose outfit. There was one particular streak of grass green on one of her palms, one that felt somehow intimately familiar.

    Link blinked at her, and discovered that his mouth didn’t want to speak the way hers did. His hands moved to do it instead, as if on instinct. I feel tired. What happened? Where are we?

    “We’re in the Shrine of Resurrection,” the Gerudo interrupted, sweeping in beside the Zora and setting a firm hand on her arm. Her eyes were narrow and uncompromising, though still, Link thought, warm. There was a child-sized smear of bright sunshine yellow soul paint on her cheek, and just a few scattered over her hands. “It’s no wonder you feel tired, you’ve been through quite an ordeal. But it’s time to get back to work.”

    Link blinked at her, blankly bemused.

    Who are you? he asked, in signs he seemed to recall only as he used them.

    Language:
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    09 Jul 2025

    Bookmarker's Notes

    Chp 13