[Sheik simply stares at him for a good moment, taking in the flickers of struggle in his expression, listening to the fragmented words that somehow manage to sound like so much creaking ice. Then, his gaze drops to some indistinct point between them, and the phrase that he mutters sounds less like something he's telling Link in particular, and more like some law of the world he's continually found himself confronting.]
The flow of time is always cruel...
[It is the only indulgence he allows himself before he straightens, setting his shoulders but not looking back to Link. Instead, his focus goes to the bits of firewood that have been scattered about them, setting to the task of collecting them once more instead of burdening the future's Hero with eye contact.]
It has been two weeks, roughly, from my perspective. Unless something has happened that I'm not aware of, I expect most of the others here should believe the same amount of time has passed.
[His words are detached, practical: a simple presentation of the facts. Even beyond the need for someone here to keep their wits about them (a role he's well-experienced with playing), it's not as though he's unfamiliar with incongruencies between the passage of time one perceives and what one actually experiences. He doesn't know how to comfort or even confront the pain he sees so clearly writ upon Link's being, but maybe... he can ground him, a little.]
... I've no desire to interrogate you, but I would like to listen. [A brief glance is spared, only now.] My camp is not far from here.
[He has tea and tunes and a tiny tapir that enjoys napping on laps. And in the time it takes to get there, Link can consider what it is he does and doesn't want to tell him. It's all he has to offer.]
no subject
The flow of time is always cruel...
[It is the only indulgence he allows himself before he straightens, setting his shoulders but not looking back to Link. Instead, his focus goes to the bits of firewood that have been scattered about them, setting to the task of collecting them once more instead of burdening the future's Hero with eye contact.]
It has been two weeks, roughly, from my perspective. Unless something has happened that I'm not aware of, I expect most of the others here should believe the same amount of time has passed.
[His words are detached, practical: a simple presentation of the facts. Even beyond the need for someone here to keep their wits about them (a role he's well-experienced with playing), it's not as though he's unfamiliar with incongruencies between the passage of time one perceives and what one actually experiences. He doesn't know how to comfort or even confront the pain he sees so clearly writ upon Link's being, but maybe... he can ground him, a little.]
... I've no desire to interrogate you, but I would like to listen. [A brief glance is spared, only now.] My camp is not far from here.
[He has tea and tunes and a tiny tapir that enjoys napping on laps. And in the time it takes to get there, Link can consider what it is he does and doesn't want to tell him. It's all he has to offer.]