True Monsters [Sinistrari + Blonde Panther + Beefish]

Datura [Sinistrari]
Silver [Blond Panther]
Griskin [Beefish]
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The contours of mountainous Southern Hyrule blackened against an arid, blue sky. Dry, crisp heat stalked the atmosphere, slowly staggering through the air, travelling from the Tantari Desert which hung between the West and Eastern peaks like a blanket of white fire. In the nook of the rock, a bulbous green body stuttered between boulders and crags, languidly walking after a skittering azure octopus which stepped over the mountains with enviable ease.

The Moblin wiped his brow, flicking the sweat away with a quick gesture. Even lacking armour, the heat on this particular day was boiling into Griskin's flesh. He stopped, stretched an arm before him and shaded his eyes from the unguarded sun. From this height, the desert could be seen mercilessly sprawling in the distance. He shrugged and trudged through stone and dust to catch his friendly blue Octorok, Grudd. The sapphire monster had stopped curiously at an edge in the rocky wall. It narrowed void eyes and spat a stone. Griskin hummed, straining to see what Grudd had discovered behind the sun-touched slabs.

"Heya bud!" The monster-man's rough voice gave away his monster blood. Gruelling speech was caught in his naturally chesty tone. He let go of caution and started to jog. "What'cha found?" The Octorok spewed double stones, they clunked against something.

Griskin stepped between the slabs and reached down to stop Grudd's mouth. Taking the dull monster under an arm, crude spear in the other hand, the Moblin looked down on a figure lying unconscious in the dusty mountain trail.

A... human.

Grikin's spear left his grip for a moment, slipping to the edge of his grasp - but he caught his surprise before the weapon clattered onto the ground. For a second, his head reeled. Partially from harsh sunlight, and partly from the sight he should have expected on such a journey. A human found so early on his quest, and so close to the Monster Village? His nerves tickled.

It looked to be a she, skin like a roasted cucco, wearing almost as little as himself. The creature looked worn and battered, subject to the hot, harsh breeze of the mountain. The Moblin dropped down like a child stooping for loose rupees in the grass, eyes wide like those hungry for lost treasure. Putting his spear to the side and letting Grudd down to scowl in his shadow, the beast lifted hesitant, cautious hands, devising a method to lift the woman without harming her foreign structure.

Today was... incredibly hot, even for Monster Village standards. Silver was fortunate with his eponymous silver colouring, but the darker-tinted Lizalfos and the thick-furred Moblins in the village complained of the heat and if they had been less civilised, there would have been riots for a spot in the shade. As it was, Silver'd had to step in to settle some disputes. He had rummaged through his bushes to see if he'd had any Chill Seeds he could give people to stay cool, but nothing- they weren't in season yet, and the only buds his Chill Bushes had were just that... buds. Unusable.

Due to the heat, few sentries were actually on duty, too. And those that were, were similar to himself- blessed with light-coloured scales or fur. having reached the village's perimeter again, he sighed, kicking against the ground and taking off into the air. He didn't expect trouble -few humans would venture out in this weather and rabid monsters were hiding out in their holes too- but even if they were with a skeleton crew, they simply couldn't leave the village unguarded when everyone was so lethargic.

Much to his surprise, it actually wasn't long at all until he saw something approaching on the horizon. Still, it looked to be no cause for alarm- a lone Moblin, judging from the size and posture. Rabid Moblins hunted in packs, not alone. It was probably someone coming back from a walk -although why he'd gone for a walk was beyond Silver- or something of the like. That being said... he squinted. And then he sniffed the air. There was something funny about the approaching Moblin. He didn't JUST smell of Moblin. He smelled of... Moblin and human. But he didn't see a human?

He let his partner know that he'd go check it out because he had no idea what was up with that smell, and started flying towards the Moblin. When he reached him, he landed, impacting on the ground pretty hard, and hailed him. "Hi," he said, "Who you?"

Before he could ask about the human smell the Moblin had, he realised he was carrying something- a human female. Ohhhh. That explained it. She looked to be unconscious, probably because of the heat? "Come, come," Silver chittered. Normally bringing humans into the village was a problem, but it was just one woman and he was a sentry, it would be fine. "Village cooler. Come."

Griskin held the woman with a clutch between crushing and gentle. He hadn't a clue how sturdy or fragile humans were, but he knew his kind had the capacity to break units of them with two or three powerful strikes. Like a bear carrying a butterfly between two paws, the Moblin descended carefully back towards Monster Village, minding every rock along the way. It wasn't long before he spied a leather-winged creature hovering in the sky like a guardian or a plague bringer. The lizardesque monster clamped with a folding gust onto solid ground. Before Griskin could greet the fellow, the Aeralfos chattered through reptilian snout something about the village being cool.

The pig-footed man beamed towards the winged lizard. "Oh, thanks! I found her on my way over the mountain..." A quick glance into his arms directed the Aeralfos towards the strange burden. They clambered down the mountain, gravity aiding the journey in contrast to the heat on their back. The Moblin's mind was abuzz with consequences, controversy, adventure, knowledge, friendship... the things he treasured mingled with the things which halted his thoughts for fear. It was then he realised something odd about his current situation - apart from the obvious.

"Friend," he sent a question with a bellowing breath, "aren't you afraid of bringing a human to the village?" Griskin eyed the Aeralfos' patrol uniform, "why would you do this?"

He knew his own reasons. But... were there really other monsters who would want to learn and befriend men?

Silver looked back when the Moblin questioned his motives. He shrugged, gesturing once more he had to follow. "Not rabid," he said. "Beast, not monster. Come, come." He led the Moblin all the way back to the village, where his partner agreed to let them through, and took Moblin and human to his own house, where shelter and darkness made for a cooler environment than the searing outside. "Here, here," he chittered, patting his nest. "Look for water."

He rushed back outside, grabbing himself a bucket of water from the nearest well. It was conveniently located in the shade, meaning the water wasn't exactly boiling, and when he flew back home he grabbed a rag from a nearby drying wall. "Look," he said, showing his finds to the Moblin. He set the bucket down next to the nest, dipping the rag in it to make it wet and placing it on the human's forehead. "Sun danger," he said, shaking his head, as he crouched into a sitting position. "Must be careful." He turned to the Moblin, repeating his question. "Who you? Me Silver," he added, pointing at the silver scales that had given him his name.

Griskin crouched through the doorway into Silver's home, smiling to a few familiar faces in the street as he disappeared into the refreshing cool air. The dark revitalised his skin, highlighting the seared heat dancing along his flesh. When the Aeralfos pointed him towards a reptile nest Griskin turned his attention to the handling of the woman once again, making sure not to tear her like an old doll as he placed her into the lizard's bed. Once she was resting out of his grasp again, he took his hands away quickly as though he expected the human to bite him all of a sudden.

Silver returned swiftly with a bucket and a cloth, wings clouding the light from the doorway. Grudd stood guard beside its Moblin counterpart, eyes narrowed at the scaly creature, ready to regurgitate a nasty welcome back. Griskin's brow raised with recognition and he plugged the Octorok's mouth with a curled hand before it could fire a rock at the Aeralfos.

"No, Grudd." Griskin wheezed, his eyes shocked with shame. His face darted apologetically towards Silver. "I'm sorry. Grudd tries to fight everyone..." His brown knotted, intertwined with a little guilt. His expression changed when his winged friend set the saturated rag on the human's forehead. A faint smile returned as Griskin was reminded of the exciting happening he'd been thrown into. The brutish creature lost himself in the situation for a moment, and almost missed Silver's greeting. "Oh...!" His lips changed from one second to the next into a smile from a surprised curve. "I'm Griskin." As though he had suddenly recalled something learned long ago, the Moblin raised his arm to meet the Aeralfos'.

Wet, trickling warmth. Light itches. Moving shadows. A nasal hum. Exclamations. Growls. Something grainy – dry dirt? More than that, straw too.

It was almost like something out of a nightmare. Another dream? Not quite.

Drawing in the breath, bit by bit, calmer and calmer, hot air and dust filled the Gerudo’s lungs. With a sway and fizzle her vision slowly succumbed to the light, rising up from under long red eyelashes to fight against the pulsing darkness in an irregular series of heavy, dazed blinks. The reality before her was a questionable one. Were they monsters? Threats? No. She doubted it. The colours and shapes blurred but Datura knew that it wasn’t violent movement – or tense. It was an illusion all in her mind: the result of a suddenly erratic heartbeat assaulting her imagination with all kinds of excitement while her logic remained groggy. Was she safe then? The instinctive panic screamed no. Intuition assured yes. Datura’s brow crumpled with bewildered confusion.

“…friend…s?” The whisper was raw; choked with dehydration.

In a reflexive movement the Gerudo tried to rise, find more water - maybe squeeze the rag on her head dry - but her muscles snapped tight and her bones screamed. A piercing, vocal cry stabbed her chest and peeled back her teeth. Her eyes were closed again, scrunched tight with a discomfort that stood on the brink of agony. All at once and then little by little she consciously became aware of her physical condition, clarity settling back into focus.

Silver nodded at the Octoroc, mentally noting that he'd have to keep an eye on it, and was just looking at Griskin's hand in confusion when he heard a less guttural, higher-pitched voice. He turned to his nest, seeing the human female Griskin had brought in slowly regaining her senses. "Slow," he said, crouching next to her, "Passed out. Too hot." He looked back and forth between her and the bucket of water by his nest. He personally drank by shoving his muzzle into whatever source of water he could find, but humans had such short noses. And they weren't even connected to their mouths! How was he going to get the water into her mouth? Pouring the bucket out would be a waste.

So he carefully, so as not to hurt her with his claws, took the rag off her head again, wrung it out away from the bucket, and saturated it a second time with clean water. "Here. Drink." Waiting for her to open her mouth, he then wrung the rag out above it. Once assured she'd gotten some fluid into her, he put the rag back on her forehead and leaned back. "Me Silver," he said, pointing at his scales again, "That Griskin. Found you." He smiled, although to the human girl it may have looked more like a hungry snarl. "Safe now."

The winged Lizalfos regarded Griskin's outstretched arm of greeting with confusion. Moblin eyes interpreted the scene. Before he could attempt to explain the traditional human handshake, his reptilian companion had been captured by the stirring of their unusual patient. Hand still reaching for Silver, and mouth paused forming the start of a statement, Griskin's eyes bent in their sockets to watch the human woman as she arose from black sleep.

Ice shot through his veins. muscles locked like bars of steel. The tapping of Grudd's tentacle legs lead the Octorok towards her. But Griskin's attention was bound by the alien. The territorial amphibian made a low, grinding sound, and produced a stone which was promptly spat towards the woman's thigh.

The contact of stone and rumbling of his little friend brought Griskin out of his paralysis. The Moblin's bulky frame knelt at half height, as if crouching could give the hulking creature any stealth at all. He swept Grudd into his arm and shuffled forward, brushing a hand across the ground to steady the imbalance of his round form. Pig face contorted, split with lines of fear and curiosity. Lip almost puffed like a child's, brow of an animal furrowing over a puzzle.

This all felt too real to be a dream or a mere phantom of the lethal heat. The sweet, hungry relief a mere few droplets of water brought to her throat awakened her more than anything. And - as if she needed any more confirmation - a sudden blunt, hard strike to her thigh assured her that the last fragment of fantasy was long gone.

She was here. In a nest of some sort, amidst the creatures fairytales and bragging soldiers always demonised. She should be dead. Long dead. She was right in the palm of their hands and by the sound of things – and the smell of things – this wasn’t just one hut, but likely a settlement of some sort.

No. No it-…it couldn’t be, could it? Was it really the rumoured…Monster Village?

A nervous laugh bubbled up from the flurries in her chest, and the Gerudo had to purse her lips to hold it back, golden stare shifting to the snouted creature that had apparently just shot her. She stared right back at the Moblin who carried it, curled warily at her feet, her attention every now and then slowly drifting back to its…pet(?) and up once more to anxiously ensure her own continued safety and comfort: as much as she could scrounge in her current dishevelled and half-bloodied state.

Mixed feelings curdled in her gut, clotting up her throat in a nasty, suffocating bulge and nervously clawing her hands into the straw that acted as her bed. Against all odds and reason, something about the Moblin inspired her motherly instincts: something which only brooded ever warmer when the reality that that was her true saviour settled in. But it all felt oh so wrong. Was she being tricked? Was she going to be fattened up and eaten months later? Was she a slave now? Everything demanded that she should armed and ready to fight for her life right about now but…there she was…laid in the safety of the monsters’ hospitality. Such bewildering facts rendered her almost breathless.

“Griskin…?” The name rolled off Datura’s tongue in a queer way. It hadn’t ever struck her before that these creatures would have names but then a quick thought back to her horrid life at the Forsaken Fortress reminded her that his kind did have some intelligence about them. How much was questionable, but the glimmer to Griskin’s eyes, though largely instinctual, betrayed his intellect. The Gerudo summoned a small, warm smile and surprised herself at how easily it slipped into place.

“Griskin.” She repeated in almost a coo. The curl of her lips widened - though she took care not to show her teeth in case it was misinterpreted - and her stare softened. Murderer or not, monster or not, it was this being which had discovered her when likely no-one else would’ve. “Thank you. For saving me, thank you.” And the other one?

Datura turned her sights and reflexively shivered at the toothy snarl that awaited her on the Aeroflos’s face. Yet after a few moments the initial horror faded and she made valiant efforts to calm her rampant pulse and its hot blood.

“Silver.” She repeated, tongue caressing this name with familiarity. While Griskin had been the one to save her – apparently – it was Silver who was by far the most attentive and approachable. For all his reptilian appearance she warmed up to him a little easier than Griskin. Besides, he didn’t carry a companion that liked to shoot pain. “Thank you too.

“My name is Datura. Like the flower.” The added statement quickly felt unnecessary: if not blatantly dangerous.

All of sudden she tightened up with nerves, hoping that they’d either know of the poisonous flower and yet not acknowledge her as threatening, or admit that they didn’t know of the flower but still accept that it wasn’t a nudge at their supposedly inferior intelligence. Or maybe that just don’t read it into things that much at all. Past a few bleats and shrieks Datura had no idea how these creatures conversed or whether anything past the literal even existed in their world.

Her name was Datura, then. Silver blinked, still confused- monsters didn't normally have names that long. It'd take some getting used to. Also, she was poisonous. Good to know, although he hadn't been about to eat her anyway. He'd eaten just before he'd set out on patrol and wasn't hungry- besides, as he'd told Griskin, he wasn't some sort of savage eating anything within sight.

A familiar, metallic twang found its way into the Aeralfos's nostrils. He got to his feet, scuffling over to Datura, and sniffed her from top to bottom. "Hurt?" he asked, without interrupting his sniffing. He was sure he smelt blood. And something else. Datura smelled nervous, as if she were afraid to be around them. He shook his head. "Afraid not needed," he said. "We help." He took another good whiff. "Hurt where?" He could help with whatever injuries she'd sustained, but in order to do so he had to know where they were and how severe they were. That would give him the information he needed to make something to help them heal.

While the woman's eyelids pried apart, Griskin felt his stomach knot into his chest, twisting and recoiling. His expressions reflected the inner spiral, the edges of his lip twitching with every turn. The Moblin's jittering flesh probably wouldn't have been noticeable, had Silver not been so collected in the human's presence. But the metal-coloured reptile put him into context. The pig's frame thrilled in the moment.

Griskin's clutch caught his slimy friend, Grudd, into a tight bind between arm and rib. It was a pressure the Octorok didn't find pleasing. A grumble barely audible reverberated across his master's arm, the sensation melted Griskin's numb nerves. He jumped with reanimation, his senses returned and thoughts and excitement fled. Before Grudd could yield a rock, it found a monster's palm clamped around it's mouth.

The way she said "Griskin" was strange to him. He recognised the name, but her tone, and the tune of her voice made it into a foreign word. Time to concentrate on that concept slipped through his mind, though, because there were stranger things about the human than her speaking. She pierced his eyes with a sharp clasp of invisible contact. Irises glowing in the dim room like a hidden vein of gold ore. But it wasn't the colour that penetrated his brain. It was something behind the eyes, a grip... like power. That was his interpretation.

Just as he had concluded this, she uttered humble words, painting an image of gratitude. Datura thanked them, and introduced herself to the duo of sharp-toothed creatures. She was crafting the base of conversation with them.

At this reality, Griskin couldn't seize the curl of his facial muscles. A childish grin stole his expression from formerly awestruck lips. Queries were already swarming in his mind, like flies of intellect fighting over food for thought.

Silver crept towards Datura, sniffing her with confounded intent, so Griskin finally removed himself from cloudy amazement and climbed to full height again. He forced the smile behind a mask of seriousness, but enthusiasm slipped through cracks here and there.

"She was beaten in the stone," he aimed this statement at Silver, then faced Datura with eagerness and a subconscious curiosity, his voice had a crunchy edge, "Did you fall? Did you cut yourself on the rock?" He leaned with his eyes while they scoured her for crimson stains, weaving to and fro, searching for the drifting, iron smell's origin.

Do NOT laugh, Datura. If any time is the time when that would inappropriate it is now. Woman. NO. Restrain yourself!

Caught between tickled humour and fretful nerves, a giggle bubbled up once again from her twisted gut. It was scarcely suppressed by a reflexive and giddy – albeit bewildered – smile that curled her painted, rouge lips with trembling dimples; replying to the one creature ardently sniffing at her while the other mothered her with prodding questions. This whole scenario honestly couldn’t have been painted any better. It was a wild fantasy worthy of a child’s imagination with its friendly and queer characters. Perhaps this was all a dream after all. She was feeling awfully light-headed still…

Actually, yes. Exactly. Why wasn’t the sway fading yet?

Datura flashed a bashful grin and attempted to wave away Silver’s and Griskin’s concern. The way they appraised her and fretted over her set her at peace in the strangest and most flattering of ways: earned by being nothing but simply a human. Thank Din she had that Aroma Ring though! She wasn't sure if it would even work on these creatures, but who knows how awful she would’ve smelt otherwise. Monster or not, the Gerudo still had her pride to maintain after all, no matter what state she woke up in.

“You worry too much,” She assured lightly, a part of her chiming laugh escaping at last. “I have a few scrapes here and a-" She unwillingly paused to make way for a grunt of agony as she heaved herself upright and examined herself to make certain of her own suspicions. Indeed, with a hesitant cringe she successfully peeled back some scraps of stained, bloody fabric from her upper right thigh. Her knees and elbows were grazed too bust most of the pain appeared to be mainly from bruising that was still settling its corrupted shadows into her flesh. “-maybe a few here too.” She continued with a downcast sigh at the ugly sight, though it could’ve been far worse really.

Trying her very best to latch onto that acknowledgement, Datura mustered as much heartfelt confidence as she could and turned back to her new, surprising friends. “But otherwise I think I’m just a bit achy! My head is perhaps a little-…emptier than usual too, so I may have hit it pretty hard on the way down but I don’t feel too unsteady.”

Oh dear. Her bad habits were kicking in again. It was one of those ‘oh I’m fine but not fine, so I expect you to swoon over me’ moments, rolling off her tongue in her usual persuasive warmth with lowered eyelashes and a nip of her lower lip. As if it would work them! And how bad it was that it just spilled out like that! Without any conscious thought! Let alone on a duo of monsters...

With guilt she softly collected the fallen damp rag from her lap, and cast a slow, uncertain stare in their direction once again. They were readily offering her their charity and golden-hearted compassion and there she was readily accepting it without shame! And asking for more!

Darn girl. You really don’t have any restrain sometimes do you?

“OUCH!” Well-timed a searing stab to the side of her head clawed a hand to her skull. For all her naturally vibrant, red hair it had been hard to notice the trickling blood at the back but she could most definitely feel it. Ugh.

“Just how in Hyrule did this even happen anyway…?”

Well, scrapes and bruises were hard to treat, but open wounds? Silver could definitely cook something up for those! So the hind leg and the head, right? "Stay here," the Aeralfos chittered excitedly, "Wait for me!" With that, he ran outside, through the door opposite the one they had used to walk in. Once outside he was among the only prey that couldn't outwit him- plants, bushes bearing colourful and vibrant berries, some ripe, some ripening, and some only barely starting to bud. He may have been a carnivore by nature, but Silver didn't mind spending time in this garden- in a strange way, it was his pride and joy, and he was happy to tend to the fruits and seeds that grew here.

On his way, he checked the leaves of an Ember plant -not yet, maybe another day or so- and took a little whiff from a Scent bush -not strong enough yet- but what he was really looking for was at the edge of the plants. A few leaves of that plant, a handful of fruits from that one, and -he dug in the earth for a bit- one root from this one. Hurrying back inside to clean his claws, he grabbed a small wooden bowl and started mixing all of his spoils with a hefty helping of water to thin it down enough so it could be spread out over Datura's wounds. "Sting a little," he explained as he mashed them into a thick paste, "Nasty sap." The sap from the leaves was super aggressive and stingy, but that just meant it was really good at cleaning the wound and keeping it clean.

He lifted his claw from the bowl, gauging the thickness of his brew and nodding eagerly when he decided it was good enough. He then handed it over to Griskin- his fingers were more nimble than Silver's and his nails weren't so frighteningly huge as to just make the wounds worse. Besides, he would probably have to go find some clean enough cloth to cover the wounds with once they were treated...

The giddy, silver-clad creature pruned and harvested in his odd, rather varied garden. Griskin reacted by looking wide-eyed at the human, Datura. Tongue bound by questions. Eventually he might have wrestled one and put it to her, but Silver bustled back into the house as quickly as he had left. The reptile brought with him a pile of vegetation, the fresh scent of cut leaves and earth overpowered the iron in the air.

Before he knew it, the Aeralfos had whisked together a goopy concoction, and had promptly shoved it into Griskin's brutish hands. He frowned, eyes expanded, looking between the lizard and the human. Shuffling awkwardly, the Moblin stuck a pudgy finger into the mix. He didn't recall ever using a balm before. There had been monsters in the village, the ones smarter than he, who would treat others for a small sum of rupees, but his parents never wasted money on that sort of thing. What good was grass? Wounds bleed themselves clean, or you die. That's the way it should have been according to them.

What an uncivilised approach to medicine. If it was good enough for humans, it was perfectly good for monsters, too.

The memory squashed Griskin's face as he stared into the balm. Hand hooked like a trowel, he scooped the flowery slime into his palm and took a confident step towards Datura.

Remembering that humans probably didn't like to see tusked beasts scowling at them, Griskin flipped the twist of his lips and reflected a smile was warm as he could conjure with so many mixed emotions fogging the forefront of his mind. He leaned down, a handful of healing gel dripped along his forearm, and with an air of total incompetency he tried to pat the woman's wounds with the balm.

Datura gasped against the severe, searing burn. A sharp, hissing inhale of restraint inflating her chest with struggling composure. She couldn't look. It was hard enough as it was to endure the process without knowing when the next dollop of gunky molten lava would assault her open wounds, betraying her with its initial look of gloppy, cold relief. Deceitful bastard! She silently cursed, with wounded Gerudo fury. They all say that the more the medicine hurts the more effective it shall be but...isn't this taking it just a bit too far? Tears of pain glimmered on her eyelashes and her lips rolled inwards for her sheathed teeth to mash on them. Every now and then a small whimper throbbed in the pits of her throat, despite the best efforts of her pride. After leaving her nightmarish home behind many years ago she'd almost forgotten what physical pain felt like.

"You have-ha-...a....gardeeeen...?" The Gerudo scarcely managed, chugging the words out somewhere between choked breaths and the desire to scream. Golden eyes crushed under the weight of her crumpled brow, fixed on Silver and practically begged for him to continue on the urgently needed prescription of distraction.

"T-that'sss-...." Cute? Well yes, that was her original reaction when she had seen the reptile creature return back to the room armed and ready. Surprise after surprise had piled upon each other to the point where Ganon himself could walk in at any moment with a bouquet of roses and she'd accept it with admirable poise and smile sweetly back. "...c-can...can I...seeee it....when...w-we're done...?...?!"

A wealthy Hylian mother would probably liken the situation to bribing a child with candy while the poor kid sat in a dentist's chair. In all honesty it wasn't that much different. Only Datura was a grown woman with hands clawed into a nest of hay and goodness-what-else in dire attempts to not slap the tending moblin away. And all the while? She still had room to somehow worry about her appearance, which was impressive in the worst of ways. Oh Din darn it. He's going to have to rub it all over my hair too isn't he?!

A somewhat unhinged laugh shivered from her lips.

Oh dear, Datura didn't seem to be taking well to the concoction. Had he messed it up? Silver mentally revisited how much of everything he had used. No, no, he was confident. This wasn't that hard a salve to make, and he'd made it a million times with the same weight of everything that he had now. Datura must simply not have been used to being treated with a salve that worked by killing any nasties in and around the wound, leaving sterile flesh that would eventually close itself again. It had to bite and sting for that. Then again, he thought as he tilted his head, her skin was weird. MUCH softer and paler than that of any monsters, with no fur or scales to protect it. Yes, he decided, that had to be it. Huh. Maybe it would be interesting to look into that...

But not right now. Right now, the human girl asked if she could see his garden! Chest swelling with pride, the Aeralfos nodded eagerly. "Of course! Very proud," he said. He'd always been a weirdo, and some Lizalfos still picked on him for his inability to hunt, but he'd learnt to take pride in his ability to grow and nurture fruits.

Once Griskin finished applying the salve, Silver skittered over with a few rags he'd found. They weren't PERFECTLY clean, but close enough that it shouldn't make much of a difference -anything dangerous would be killed by the generous helping of salve, anyway- and he helped Griskin bind the girl's wounds with it, taking care to smooth out her hair with his claws before binding her head. It wouldn't do to have that hair in the way. Once satisfied with the result, he nodded again, as eager as the last time, and turned around to lead the other two to the garden out back. "See, see?" he said, before warning them: "Don't touch fruits. Some not ripe, others break easy."

Griskin's face deformed, cringing at Datura's reaction to the antiseptic. Even after binding the wounds neatly with clean... well, er, clean-ish fabrics, the sight of liquid mixing with colour, seeping discreetly into the material made his gut hurt. He had to consider, his mind only at the verge of understanding, untutored brain mass left open to questions and what ifs; had they helped her? Or had they caused her further pain?

Whichever way, the Gerudo, though the keeper of a mysterious inner power which made Griskin afraid, had chosen to accept the treatment. It couldn't be that bad, then, surely.

Wiping off his hands on a stray piece of cloth, the inquisitive Moblin let a tusked smile break his grimace. He filled his arms with an anti-social blue Octorok, smile melting into a cordial grin, and greeted Silver with raised eyebrows.

"Ha-ha! I've heard about this garden." He was barely holding onto Grudd, who almost dangled from the Moblin's lethargic, arcing arms. "It smells-" a large whiff, swine nostrils flared uncontrollably, punctuated by low snorting, oinks, "-Smells really good! And it's... so pretty! How many plants have'ya got here?"

The questions just seemed to start rolling out from there, though most were less directed towards the Aeralfos. Griskin went from rather quiet, to very talkative very quickly. "Datura, do humans like gardens? I know they grow healing flowers, but do they like fruit? Or the smell of petals? Do they..."

He started to ramble on and on, barely taking time to hear the answers, queries absolutely unrelenting, and all somehow related to gardening.

It was at this point that Grudd decided it did not enjoy the garden. Perhaps to make a statement, or perhaps to put a cleft in Griskin's river of interrogation, or perhaps for both of these reasons, the Octorok started unleashing rocks upon the foliage at a rate competitive with it's master's words.

Then Griskin remembered that feeling like ice in his veins.

Treated by creatures and now walking through a garden! It wasn’t anything short of amazing: nor was her restraint to touch everything remotely pretty, deadly or just plain peculiar.

More than once Datura’s hand had curled into a softly clasped fist after drifting this way or that when she wasn’t paying attention. At one point she even had to bite a nail as if to pin her hand there at her mouth, but holding back just one soon proved not to be enough. She didn’t have pockets so in the end the Gerudo adamantly knotted her fingers behind her back in self-imposed imprisonment. What a child she was! But really…it had been a very long time since she had forbidden herself to do anything. It made the whole ordeal so much harder to resist.

Thankfully her Moblin friend supplied ample distraction and conversation, suddenly transformed into a whole other pe-…monster after patching her up. She answered all his questions with warm smiles and a few little laughs – but none of it mocking. His relentless curiosity was sweet - almost childlike. There was nothing but a mothering patience to her every word and nuance in her expression, unable to help but think of her own Remei when she was but a very young child. Surprisingly the questions weren’t all that different. And all of a sudden I’m torn between apologising to Remei for comparing her to a Moblin, or apologising to the Moblin for seeing him as nothing but a Moblin.

There wasn’t any time for moral dilemmas though as one, bratty little creature cared for none of it!

“STOP!!!” The Gerudo snapped in an authoritative bellow.

Before she knew what she was doing the mother had instinctively clasped a hand over the Octorok’s snout before it could do any further damage, and was glaring the creature down with firm punishment. Her fierce, golden eyes quite literally flashed with imposing fury. “That is quite enough.”

If any moment was to realise that the Gerudo was a mother it was now.

But…the woman soon felt a little guilty… After only a few long moments of her stern, silencing attitude she pursed her lips, rolling them with a sigh of regret them lightly released her hand to stroke the beast instead of suffocating it. “Understood?” She pressed in a far softer voice.

She couldn't really blame it. She had become so frustrated with restraint herself that it wasn't hard to sympathise with Grudd's actions, if only a little. But that gave him no right to touch them fir-...er...destroy them! This was Silver's beloved garden after all. Her heart practically rendered in two to think how horrified the creature must be. It was almost terrifying to finally pull her anxious stare towards the reptilian creature. He had shown true compassion and charity but she wasn't entirely sure how far that lovely nature would extend in a situation like this...

Silver laughed, a strange bark-like sound, when he overheard Griskin asking Datura dozens of questions and as he smelled the scents of his own garden, himself. However, any joy he felt at displaying his pride and joy quickly vanished into thin air when Grudd started launching rocks at it! "Nonononono-" It wasn't so much that he was upset at the creature's projectiles of choice flattening and destroying his plants -although that was certainly part of it- and more so that some of the fruits were -very explosive when impacted- that made Silver jump up and fly towards the others, swooping by them and forcibly half-shoving, half-dragging them back to his hut.

Just in time, too, as a plant bearing Bomb Seeds went off. The Aeralfos folded his wings around him to shield himself and his ears from the explosions, finally daring to look when they died down. The damage had been done- many of his plants were ruined. He walked back into the garden, looking to salvage any seeds and fruits he could. This plant could be salvaged with some delicate care.... this would have to be splinted, but would live... but these were beyond saving and would have to be re-planted. Fortunately, a few of them had already borne fruit. "Is... is okay," he finally said to the others, getting on his knees to dig through the earth for salvageable seeds and fruits. "Accident. Happens. Can re-plant..."

He turned to the others. "While recovering, help?" It would save him a lot of time and effort if they could help him uproot the ruined plants, splint and prune the damaged ones, and re-plant the seeds he had. They wouldn't HAVE to, but the larger trees and rocks in the garden provided shade, and as far as he knew, Griskin had no other business to tend to and Datura was injured, so she shouldn't leave.

Havoc was raining down all around. Rocks, plants and explosions all intermingled together in a bizarre show of chaos. Grudd, stopped mid-attack by the Gerudo woman, collapsed onto the ground as the support of master's arms slipped away. Griskin raised shaking hands to his ears. Eyes diluted, sticking out in full orbs.

What had he done?!

Cold water of pure fear swirled around in a vortex of guilt. His stomach curdled both as he looked on the wreckage.

Elbows sticking out, attached to trembling hands which still held his ears, Griskin turned slowly, his mind's eye already filling in an image of an irate reptile. Before he could check if his prediction was correct, the Moblin tightened the skin of his eyes, shutting out the faces and the light.

"I'm sorry - I'm so, so sorry..." invisible pain creased his face. But then the Aeralfos replied, in a voice tinged with something that was not violence. After the dismissal, Griskin hit himself in the sides of his swine head, ears flapped uselessly against each connection. "But this is our fault, Grudd's and mine... I'm so sorry!" He dropped to the ground, levelling himself with the Octorok who had poured out the destruction on Silver's once quaint garden. He gripped into the soil, as if it could give him foundation to wearily growl: "Say you're sorry, Grudd!"

Grudd huffed, but was otherwise dumb. Eyes filled with a hostile, white oblivion, devoid of feeling or morality. The blue monster might have even fired a last stone, if it hadn't made itself sick churning so many into the world already.

Griskin's expression was locked into a layer of shock. He scrambled back onto two feet with a frantic compulsion. He reached towards Silver, offering his hands to his neighbour.

"Of course, of course I'll help!" His lips carried on tracing the words which repeated in his mind, I'm sorry... I can't believe it... this is a disaster!

Still racked by the incident which rumbled in his conscience, Griskin went about picking up the debris in the garden. He followed Silver's lead with total dependence, watching the gardener before applying his repairing techniques to the other side of the patch. All the while his head hanging down, trying to avoid eye contact for fear he would be stabbed with glares.