[Sheik listens quietly but attentively as she recounts her experiences, content to allow the pictures her words paint play out in his mind's eye... at least until the moment she admits she felt some responsibility for the tragedy that had occurred a century prior. It brings to mind the girl he met at the masquerade all those months ago, and the tightness and restraint she bore herself with as he interrogated her about her identity. A puzzle piece that clicks neatly into place.
She pauses, thoughtful, and he... should say something, he knows. He understands that feeling intimately, that sense of guilt, and he wants her to know that, but... the words don't come, too entangled by the secrets he keeps to give any of them voice. He flounders there, next to her, until she continues.
And he goes very, very still.
... She's so kind, so sympathetic, and it sickens him, nausea churning in his belly, his heart pounding against his ribs. He can't bear to look at her-- can't bear to be looked at by her, and he turns away, the veil of his bangs obscuring what little of his expression she might have otherwise been able to see. Every fiber of his being screams at him to run, his fingers itching to reach for the pouch of deku nuts at his hip, but a foolish sense of duty no one else is aware of keeps him rooted in his seat. How pathetic.]
I will... ensure your compassion reaches her, if I can.
[The words come out stilted, awkward; he himself winces at the sound of them. So, he lets out a sigh, collects himself, and... deflects, as he usually does.]
Though it may be out of my hands, should this conversation be forgotten upon my waking. If all this simply seemed to be a long and strange dream to you when you returned to Hyrule, then it does not seem as though you were able to act upon any of the things you learned during your time here.
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She pauses, thoughtful, and he... should say something, he knows. He understands that feeling intimately, that sense of guilt, and he wants her to know that, but... the words don't come, too entangled by the secrets he keeps to give any of them voice. He flounders there, next to her, until she continues.
And he goes very, very still.
... She's so kind, so sympathetic, and it sickens him, nausea churning in his belly, his heart pounding against his ribs. He can't bear to look at her-- can't bear to be looked at by her, and he turns away, the veil of his bangs obscuring what little of his expression she might have otherwise been able to see. Every fiber of his being screams at him to run, his fingers itching to reach for the pouch of deku nuts at his hip, but a foolish sense of duty no one else is aware of keeps him rooted in his seat. How pathetic.]
I will... ensure your compassion reaches her, if I can.
[The words come out stilted, awkward; he himself winces at the sound of them. So, he lets out a sigh, collects himself, and... deflects, as he usually does.]
Though it may be out of my hands, should this conversation be forgotten upon my waking. If all this simply seemed to be a long and strange dream to you when you returned to Hyrule, then it does not seem as though you were able to act upon any of the things you learned during your time here.