[His steady, driven gait as they approach the teleportation circle falters ever so briefly as she reassures him, his heart catching high and fluttery in his throat at her particular choice of words. Irritation prickles along the back of his neck, tempting him with the satisfaction of lashing out at a perceived slight (she's mocking him!), but he's long since outgrown such immature impulses, no matter how close he feels to that young girl that couldn't even act upon her visions by herself at present. In the moment of (over-)consideration that follows, he settles upon two divergent conclusions.
The first: if she truly doesn't know, despite the odd sense that it feels like she should, then her words are proof. He is the only one who sees the flaw in the weave, and there's nothing that demands he acknowledges it.
The second: if she does know, and this is mockery served so sweetly, then her priorities seem to be more along the lines of making him squirm than anything else. The thread is bait, but he needs not take it yet. Though he obviously has his preferences, he can content himself with either truth for now.]
I see. Then, would this "something" extend to any Zeldas that might find themselves here, or is your primary concern with the one who preceded you?
[...]
These sorts of things tend to come in threes, in my experience.
[A joke, just for himself, to massage the tension out of his shoulders as her arms find his once more. He's allowed that much, isn't he?]
no subject
[His steady, driven gait as they approach the teleportation circle falters ever so briefly as she reassures him, his heart catching high and fluttery in his throat at her particular choice of words. Irritation prickles along the back of his neck, tempting him with the satisfaction of lashing out at a perceived slight (she's mocking him!), but he's long since outgrown such immature impulses, no matter how close he feels to that young girl that couldn't even act upon her visions by herself at present. In the moment of (over-)consideration that follows, he settles upon two divergent conclusions.
The first: if she truly doesn't know, despite the odd sense that it feels like she should, then her words are proof. He is the only one who sees the flaw in the weave, and there's nothing that demands he acknowledges it.
The second: if she does know, and this is mockery served so sweetly, then her priorities seem to be more along the lines of making him squirm than anything else. The thread is bait, but he needs not take it yet. Though he obviously has his preferences, he can content himself with either truth for now.]
I see. Then, would this "something" extend to any Zeldas that might find themselves here, or is your primary concern with the one who preceded you?
[...]
These sorts of things tend to come in threes, in my experience.
[A joke, just for himself, to massage the tension out of his shoulders as her arms find his once more. He's allowed that much, isn't he?]