04 | A group of furbies try to scamper off with your egg. Fortunately for you, there's no ringleader and they're clumsy.
05 | A territory dispute between two lynxes comes close to where you're protecting your egg.
04 | A group of furbies try to scamper off with your egg. Fortunately for you, there's no ringleader and they're clumsy.
24 | When the light hits just so, you see something moving under the slightly-translucent skin of the egg.
10 | A sudden downpour causes you lose your grip on the leaf bundle the egg is in; it starts to roll away down the hill.
Breath of the Wild would never admit that nerves made her tremble and frown, once his back was turned and he had walked off in search of a place for the second egg. It'd taken careful consideration on her part on where to try such an epic task and with summer fast approaching the need for water, and, perhaps even more so, for ice, had swayed her to choose this locale and explain to Hero where he should try his own hand at the process. At least if even one of them succeeded, they'd have a more comfortable time dealing with the heat wave that was to come. They could worry about fire when the weather turned cooler.
Despite all her efforts, she was a mess. She had had nothing unpleasant in this life and yet she was still traumatized for lack of any other word. It was woven into her psyche and she began to mutter to herself, "I can do this. I need only guard it for a time and then it shall hatch and all this worry will be for naught." It sounded so convincing but she didn't believe it. Most of all because she was saying it to herself. She sighed, a terrible feeling of failure hitching into her throat. Why did she always feel so small and useless? She had va—twigs snapped behind her and she turned to find a terror of furbies roughly exploring the nest she had so kindly created for the egg.
Wild felt her body contort, one side seemed ready to charge forward but the other remained stock still. It took a moment for the frozen doe to leap into action, literally, as she forced herself forward, mouth set in a tight line of determination.
"Hey! Stop that!" she commanded, a natural thought that of course made no different to the critters. In fact, to her utmost horror, it seemed to attract a second group of furbies and she couldn't help the small shriek that erupted. Frustration, fear, it was all the same in the moment.
Blast, she felt the irritation crawl up her spine, as she took in the motley crews of nuisances. The first group, a strange catastrophe of red, yellow, black and white, each had a face with a
strange symbol painted on their faces in one of the four colors that seemed to symbolize their sub-species. There were fragments of it that made her blood turn cold and she had to charge at them, reminding herself of how small they were, to avoid an episode. She could not afford, she would not allow, herself to fall to trauma.
The first group of furbies froze in their movements, as wide eyes turned to stare at the doe, before deciding better of it and running for the hills. At least they had some sense.
The other group remained unfazed, but the closer she approached, the more she realized these creatures were less of a nuisance. Over-jubilant, the pastel quad seemed to be trying to rectify the mess. Their additions, however, left something to be decided, as they dropped gemstones and rocks and something that glittered in the sunlight upon the nest. She cringed, worry they would kill the not-yet born lizard that she was protecting.
"I, um, thank you for your kindness in your repairs," she started which caused the group of four to still, comically. They turned in slow motion to her, stared, and she swore they vanished in mid-air. She felt her mouth drop, gaped, and then let the confusion trail along in her head as she approached the nest and began to secure it.
If this hadn't been a life or death situation for the creature yet to be born, she would have liked to attempted to study the furbies. They were a curious case of horrifying and intelligent that seemed, at least alone, to be of no real harm to a kin. And yet she rather doubted that they hadn't harmed or even killed one in their existence in the swamp.
It was hours of quiet that lulled her into a false sense of security. Or a stupor of research questions that she could not yet, or even ever, answer. There was a certain callous, gruesome sibling of knowledge that she did not have the stomach for and could it be worth knowing if it came at such costs? Not for her was all that she could decide. And it was this why Hero worried so about her. Not because she was weak or inept, but because there was decidedly too much roaming about her own mind. If not for the yowls . . .
Wild sighed. Goodness, didn't the spectrals in this swamp ever cease their communication? They were all very interesting, of course, but they had such a tendency to shriek and moan and lament that she found herself exhausted if she tried to listen to them for long. It wasn't uncommon for owlcats, spectral or otherwise, to yowl at all times of the day for all manners of reason. She'd long since stopped trying to decipher them, as a whole. Their wants were too varied to ever be a simple one emitted vocalization.
As she rose, considering how she would deter the continued cacophony of sound, a thud made her jump. She gasped as a large lynx rolled to its feet, eyes narrowing as it looked for its enemy. There was no shame in shrieking when the other lynx burst out of the brush and she clumsily tried to back towards the nest to protect it. This had not been in the initial look over of territories!
There was no way that she could fend off two lynxes, not when they were already so clearly ready to defend to the death. If anything, she thought, she would have to relocate the egg to a safer location and hope that it did not interfere with the incubation. She'd never hatched an egg before and had little idea, besides her observations from others, of how long it need or if it could even be moved in that time frame. If not, this was going to end badly no matter what she did. As of now, she had to assume it still had a chance to hatch.
Carefully, she inched her way towards the nest as to avoid becoming their combined target. She felt no relief when she was close enough to begin preparations for in this she had to be careful but quick. She couldn't risk dawdling but she did not want to jeopardize the egg either. If only she'd kept the carrier with her instead of letting Hero go off with it; she was going to have to make another one, or dozen, of those in some manner. For now, she uncovered the egg and pulled the leaf tips up to form a bundle. She had no choice but to take it in her mouth and then she ran from the scene, intent on being gone before they could notice her.
The ground under her hooves dented as she thundered away from the lynxes, unsure of exactly where else she could bunker down. Was it too late to find another habitat entirely? Or would that end any chance of hatching? She didn't dare find out which left her wandering in loose circles as she began to slow, mind focusing on each area she passed to see if it might provide a short term home for the egg she carried.
The wetness in the air seemed to increase and she felt the pressure pop. Rain, heavy and slick, dropped like a waterfall and she could not have done anything to prevent it. Just as the sudden weight could not have been accounted for as it tugged the leaf bundle from her mouth and plopped down into a stream. It didn't stop the upset or the doubts in herself from rising, but she couldn't just let it float off. Not when this stream canted downward so sharply.
Breath of the Wild lunged forward and dropped her entire body across the stream. The leaf bundle bobbed along the splashed wave before settling against her side and she laughed, relieved. It was not a comfortable position, really. Wet all around, tired, but as she nosed the bundle, she found that the egg was intact.
An errant beam of setting sunlight caught the translucent surface and she could see something moving within. She felt relief. It lived. And soon, it would hatch.
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