Written in Blood

XXXIII . Holding on

Something pummels me in the back again and I turn around, trying not to growl like a wild animal.

I'm about halfway down the river and these goddess darned octorocks will not leave me be. Usually it's no problem dodging them, but today I guess I'm a slow moving target, slow enough they have time to chuck rocks at me. Goody.

This is like the fifth time it's happened, so all my irritation is building onto one another to make me more and more fed up. Maybe if someone else was here with me, I'd try to retain some of my dignity, like on the way out of Ikana, but all hope of remaining calm cool and collected goes out the window. The rope's snapped.

"Okay buddy," I'm surprised by how aggressive I sound. You'd think I'd be miffed about something more important. But no. It was a stupid rock throwing pest.

Being alone is looking better by the second, talking to your enemy- a dumb and wild octopus, a public nuisance- is stupid, especially since this sucker and his friends can't even talk.

I waste no time in stepping off the path, a strip of land along the river, and wading into the water. It isn't deep or anything, especially not anymore, but the current is still somewhat strong, I can feel it's pull on me.

The octorock's already cowering away from me, it's pathetic green eyes seem to droop even more from the mere sight of me.

I pull out my sword and shield, almost taunting it to try and attack back. It stares at me for a second, and then it's little brain- truly a genius- comes up with the great idea to try and incite me again. With it's one and only attack. Yep, the rock spitting one.

I've dealt with these guys more times than I'd care to know, so my shield is already up when there's the impact of its rock. As pathetic as always, they're too dense to notice their own projectile whizzing right back at them like some sort of cruel accidental boomerang.

The octorock is knocked down into the water from the force, and I stab it once for good measure, watching it's body start to wash away with a trail of blue blood.

I wade back to shore and keep going. Water squelches around in my boots with every step and I'm miffed about that stupid octorock. Why'd I even jump in?

There's one good thing about it being a sunny day though, I'll be dried off in no time, but my upper half is still doing its best to make me damp with sweat anyways.

I've been up and down this river enough times to be able to do it without really thinking, so my mind wanders off from trekking upstream.

There's a good chance I've guessed right and the Hylians are here, but what if there's no sign of them? I don't believe Ganondorf's forces would've been able to wipe out everyone, so they're still hiding somewhere right? I wish I knew. This jaunt up to Zora's Domain was on a desperate whim, the only lead I had. There aren't many places left that make sense. Lon Lon Ranch is out of the picture, the only Hylians there are the ones in that pile of bodies. It can't be everyone...

I didn't know I was actually feeling hope for them to be at the Domain, but I make the realization when I start to doubt they've managed to hold on. When did I start caring about all these people anyway? That sounds like something a hero would do, and I thought I promised myself I wouldn't be a hero ever again. But heck, I never wanted to see Zelda again and that turned out about as well as not getting stabbed during a fight. A few weeks ago the only thing I really wanted was finding a way to leave and to cut my ties with everyone. Now I'm trudging across thin strips of land and bridges, half soaked and sweaty trying to find those very people I wanted to be rid of. I guess the saying really is true: desperate times call for desperate measures.