Waking of Saturday, March 18, 2017 ~ 7
(In
the pale sunlight as it happened)
As I ascended the mountain, I
thought I saw yellowish shafts protruding from the high pines. Stray discarded
Shock Arrows.
It started getting cold, and my
nose and cheeks turned rosy and my breath came out in little clouds. I wondered
if I would have to switch to my Warm Doublet.
Higher up, a weak sunlight managed
to penetrate the clouds and water—I could see Vah Ruta far below me in the
Reservoir, casting it all up into the sky by its trunk like a smokestack. So much water.
But in the slightly stronger light
I could see clearly: these were definitely Shock Arrows stuck in these tree
trunks. I plucked a few of them out, tucking them away for later. I would need
quite a few. I hoped I could get this over with quickly and deftly....
Sunlight reflected off the long wet
grass into my face, glowing the ground into a blinding aura near the high, wide
meadow.
Would it be like Talus Junior?
Would I be able to see it? I moved slowly, very
slowly.... taking my time at every step, keeping my distance, holding back....
But all at once a cinematic made
the introduction for us.
Save me there it pawed the ground: six-limbed,
four strong hooves, two brawny arms, muscly, horned, thick red-maned, and
armed. What was its face but a terrible dark blur with glinting eyes?
The cutscene left me waiting round
the side of a large boulder as the Lynel approached from the meadow.
I stepped out where it could see
me—and I could see it—and raised my
Sheikah Slate as it charged.
I think I captured the last sight
any number of good men may have seen. If Laflat didn’t like that photo, I didn’t know what she would.
And after that....
After that....
....
Y’ever play ring-around-the-rosie
with the Devil?
It was big. And it was fast. And
its weapons were many, for what little implementation it possessed. Sword and
shield to be sure—and claws—and fangs—and horns—and kicking, trampling hooves
like flints. And snapping, crackling Shock
Arrows.
I ran. You bet your sweet Canadian mullets I ran as hard as
I could. Fast it would come charging
at me, the swing of its gigantic sword missing me by inches as I tore to the side. I
just needed to get those arrows I saw sticking out of the ground and out of the
trees everywhere.
Have
you ever stopped to climb a tree when there’s a giant man-horse-lion beast
galloping at you?
Other times I was not so lucky—if I
could not clear its path in time, if its sword caught me, or its swiping hands
found me—
I know at least one fairy came to my aid.
More than once I was sent flying, reeling and wheeling head over
heels through the air, spinning, spinning to slam back onto the wet grass below—
“Get up get up get up, Link, get up!!!”
Where
was it? And it would make another pass, come at me again. Stop, raise its
bow—I would hear the crackling of yellow lightning in its hands—I leapt from
the puddle I had stopped in—the arrow stuck in there wouldn’t do me any good if
I got fried trying to retrieve
it—barely made it out before the zapping explosion erupted behind me—
The Lynel was so fast, both on its
feet and in its tactics, and I was small. I was eating through my restorative
provisions at the fastest rate I had ever done—I’d cooked so many meals in
Zora’s Domain beforehand that even my hammerspace
pockets couldn’t hold anymore.... Well
they’d have more room now, I thought.
And Holy DIN when I jumped aside from one of its attacks to see it skidding
to a vicious halt, its claws and teeth chewing
and RIPPING into the grass, into the ground, into the low prey-space I had
vacated by only a fraction of a heartbeat—it
meant to rend me asunder and then devour me.
Only
a few more arrows....
But
I couldn’t keep this up forever....
Uphill,
uphill, UPHILL!! It had left some arrows below its meadow.... maybe there were some higher up as well....
Uphill,
Link, uphill, run run run faster, Link, faster....
