That night Malon slept very uneasily. It took her hours to doze off, and
when she finally did her rest was ridden with nightmares. She was plagued
by a recurring dream in which Ingo sold her into slavery to the evil king
Ganondorf, who used her for unmentionable purposes. What a sick man he
was. He had turned a prosperous, beautiful kingdom into a dangerous
wasteland. All sorts of abominable creatures roamed Hyrule unchecked,
terrorizing villages and in some cases almost wiping out entire races. It
was only a matter of time before usurped control of the ranch, and all
within it would be subject to his rule. She shuddered at the thought of
it.
Malon threw the covers off and sat up in bed. There was no way she was going to fall asleep tonight. She slipped on a jacket and some boots and headed outside. Riding was the best way for her to clear her head, which she desperately needed to do. She walked out to the corral, where Epona slept. She really was an amazing horse. The only reason she misbehaved was because she was wild and wasn't used to being told what to do. Apart from that, she had all the qualities of a good horse: faithfulness, strength, speed, and endurance. She neighed quietly as Malon approached her.
"Hey girl," Malon said gently, "I hope you don't mind, but I need to take you for a ride and get some fresh air." She mounted the horse and urged her to a trot, then to a gallop around the corral. After four times around the young girl felt she had purged her mind of her worries, and steered Epona back towards the gate that separated the ranch's buildings from its field.
As she approached it, Epona began to shift her weight and neigh nervously.
"What is it girl," Malon whispered, knowing that Epona did not get easily spooked. Then she heard it: footsteps followed by a scuffing noise and finally a thud on the ground. Immediately her instincts kicked in and she dismounted the horse. Evil creatures that roamed Hyrule field occasionally wandered into the ranch and had to either be destroyed or chased away. "Of course this has to happen when I'm the only one here," she thought to herself, not liking the idea of having to fight this.whatever it was off the ranch alone. Although she was a strong young woman, she hadn't any fighting experience or training, and the odds of her being harmed in this attempt were quite high.
Malon tiptoed over to the stables and picked up a shovel-a rather unconventional weapon she thought, but it could work as well as any other. With her back to the wall, she peeked around the corner of the stable to see what she was up against. The darkness made it impossible for her to make out more than the silhouette of a person lying face down on the ground. Cautiously, the young girl approached the shady figure; shovel poised for action. Soon she was right next it, and in one swift movement flipped the person onto their back with her foot, shovel held at the throat.
"Who are you and what are you doing here!" she demanded, not changing her position. She could now see that it was a man, probably around her age, and he appeared to be seriously injured. Blood covered his tunic and he was unconscious.
"Oh my gosh." she stammered, dropping the shovel and falling to the ground to help him. "I'm so sorry, I didn't know you came here for help.I thought you had come to rob me." she murmured to herself, aware that he couldn't hear her.
Malon carefully pulled the young man onto his feet, swung his arm around her neck, and, with great difficulty carried him to the hotel room. She removed the bag that contained his belongings along with the heavy sword he carried and place him on the bed. Once she had done this, she began to set to work immediately to stop the bleeding. She had to take off the top of his tunic in order to fully address the wound and to clean the dirt from it. She tore off a piece of her dress to bandage the wound, knowing that she did not have enough time to search for bandages that were never really used at the ranch and so would be impossible to find. Once she had done this, she went outside to soak a rag in water and came back in to wipe off her patient's dirty face and body, and to help calm his fever.
Throughout the night, the young man tossed and turned, mumbling things about the end of the world in his sleep. She kept a close watch on him; making sure his fever didn't rise too high. If it were possible she would have fetched him some milk, which, at this ranch, had strange rejuvenating powers. However, her patient at the moment was unable to sit up, let alone drink anything. Besides, Ingo had taken their stocks of milk to the city with him, and the cows probably wouldn't produce milk at this hour of the night. Even if they could she had nothing to keep it in. He had taken all the bottles with him.
Towards the morning, his fever broke and the young man began to sleep soundly. Satisfied that he would be okay if she left the room, Malon decided to go downstairs to rewet her rag. When she re-entered the room, something smooth and clear amongst her patient's belongings caught her eye. Upon closer examination, she realized that it was an empty bottle. Perfect! This made it possible for her to fetch milk for her patient.
Malon headed towards the stables to get to work. Although the cows seemed annoyed with being disturbed so early in the morning, they produced more than enough milk to adequately fill the bottle. When she finished, she placed the cork back in the top and hastily returned to the hotel room.
"This should make you feel much better," she began, "you're lucky the cows." Malon stopped abruptly. There was no longer anyone lying in the bed, and the covers were thrown over the side of it.
Before she had time to contemplate where he had gone or why, a strong, forceful arm wrapped around her, pinning her arms to her body, and a large elegant sword blade was held to her throat. Malon gasped.
"Where am I!" her attacker demanded. "Answer me!" Malon tried desperately to reply, but found that her voice had forsaken her and was unable to say anything.
"I-I." was all she managed to squeeze out. "Why were you going through my things! What did you take! Tell me or I'll slit your throat!" He yelled, increasing the pressure of his sword on her neck.
"Y-you came here," she stammered, somehow managing to find her voice, "you were injured, I-I was just trying to help." He said nothing and only shifted his weight, unsure of how to respond. Was she telling the truth, or had she put him into some kind of trance?
"You're arm was cut," Malon continued, "you were bleeding to death. What was I supposed to do? Leave you out there to die?" she said, her courage starting to emerge. He only shifted his weight again. Then he remembered. The icicle.in the cavern. He had been aiming at a bat when he took a wrong step right underneath an icicle, which came down and sliced his arm open. He looked down at his wound as if to confirm what had happened. Slowly he lowered his sword and released the girl in his firm grasp.
Malon stumbled a few steps away and turned around to face him. He held his sword at his side, his face and finely sculpted body covered in sweat. His fever had apparently returned. He stood looking at Malon, and she back at him, for a few seconds before collapsing, once again, to the ground.
Malon threw the covers off and sat up in bed. There was no way she was going to fall asleep tonight. She slipped on a jacket and some boots and headed outside. Riding was the best way for her to clear her head, which she desperately needed to do. She walked out to the corral, where Epona slept. She really was an amazing horse. The only reason she misbehaved was because she was wild and wasn't used to being told what to do. Apart from that, she had all the qualities of a good horse: faithfulness, strength, speed, and endurance. She neighed quietly as Malon approached her.
"Hey girl," Malon said gently, "I hope you don't mind, but I need to take you for a ride and get some fresh air." She mounted the horse and urged her to a trot, then to a gallop around the corral. After four times around the young girl felt she had purged her mind of her worries, and steered Epona back towards the gate that separated the ranch's buildings from its field.
As she approached it, Epona began to shift her weight and neigh nervously.
"What is it girl," Malon whispered, knowing that Epona did not get easily spooked. Then she heard it: footsteps followed by a scuffing noise and finally a thud on the ground. Immediately her instincts kicked in and she dismounted the horse. Evil creatures that roamed Hyrule field occasionally wandered into the ranch and had to either be destroyed or chased away. "Of course this has to happen when I'm the only one here," she thought to herself, not liking the idea of having to fight this.whatever it was off the ranch alone. Although she was a strong young woman, she hadn't any fighting experience or training, and the odds of her being harmed in this attempt were quite high.
Malon tiptoed over to the stables and picked up a shovel-a rather unconventional weapon she thought, but it could work as well as any other. With her back to the wall, she peeked around the corner of the stable to see what she was up against. The darkness made it impossible for her to make out more than the silhouette of a person lying face down on the ground. Cautiously, the young girl approached the shady figure; shovel poised for action. Soon she was right next it, and in one swift movement flipped the person onto their back with her foot, shovel held at the throat.
"Who are you and what are you doing here!" she demanded, not changing her position. She could now see that it was a man, probably around her age, and he appeared to be seriously injured. Blood covered his tunic and he was unconscious.
"Oh my gosh." she stammered, dropping the shovel and falling to the ground to help him. "I'm so sorry, I didn't know you came here for help.I thought you had come to rob me." she murmured to herself, aware that he couldn't hear her.
Malon carefully pulled the young man onto his feet, swung his arm around her neck, and, with great difficulty carried him to the hotel room. She removed the bag that contained his belongings along with the heavy sword he carried and place him on the bed. Once she had done this, she began to set to work immediately to stop the bleeding. She had to take off the top of his tunic in order to fully address the wound and to clean the dirt from it. She tore off a piece of her dress to bandage the wound, knowing that she did not have enough time to search for bandages that were never really used at the ranch and so would be impossible to find. Once she had done this, she went outside to soak a rag in water and came back in to wipe off her patient's dirty face and body, and to help calm his fever.
Throughout the night, the young man tossed and turned, mumbling things about the end of the world in his sleep. She kept a close watch on him; making sure his fever didn't rise too high. If it were possible she would have fetched him some milk, which, at this ranch, had strange rejuvenating powers. However, her patient at the moment was unable to sit up, let alone drink anything. Besides, Ingo had taken their stocks of milk to the city with him, and the cows probably wouldn't produce milk at this hour of the night. Even if they could she had nothing to keep it in. He had taken all the bottles with him.
Towards the morning, his fever broke and the young man began to sleep soundly. Satisfied that he would be okay if she left the room, Malon decided to go downstairs to rewet her rag. When she re-entered the room, something smooth and clear amongst her patient's belongings caught her eye. Upon closer examination, she realized that it was an empty bottle. Perfect! This made it possible for her to fetch milk for her patient.
Malon headed towards the stables to get to work. Although the cows seemed annoyed with being disturbed so early in the morning, they produced more than enough milk to adequately fill the bottle. When she finished, she placed the cork back in the top and hastily returned to the hotel room.
"This should make you feel much better," she began, "you're lucky the cows." Malon stopped abruptly. There was no longer anyone lying in the bed, and the covers were thrown over the side of it.
Before she had time to contemplate where he had gone or why, a strong, forceful arm wrapped around her, pinning her arms to her body, and a large elegant sword blade was held to her throat. Malon gasped.
"Where am I!" her attacker demanded. "Answer me!" Malon tried desperately to reply, but found that her voice had forsaken her and was unable to say anything.
"I-I." was all she managed to squeeze out. "Why were you going through my things! What did you take! Tell me or I'll slit your throat!" He yelled, increasing the pressure of his sword on her neck.
"Y-you came here," she stammered, somehow managing to find her voice, "you were injured, I-I was just trying to help." He said nothing and only shifted his weight, unsure of how to respond. Was she telling the truth, or had she put him into some kind of trance?
"You're arm was cut," Malon continued, "you were bleeding to death. What was I supposed to do? Leave you out there to die?" she said, her courage starting to emerge. He only shifted his weight again. Then he remembered. The icicle.in the cavern. He had been aiming at a bat when he took a wrong step right underneath an icicle, which came down and sliced his arm open. He looked down at his wound as if to confirm what had happened. Slowly he lowered his sword and released the girl in his firm grasp.
Malon stumbled a few steps away and turned around to face him. He held his sword at his side, his face and finely sculpted body covered in sweat. His fever had apparently returned. He stood looking at Malon, and she back at him, for a few seconds before collapsing, once again, to the ground.