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Silence was a blessing for the rancher. A break for his ringing ears, a cool breeze over hot skin. The feeling of his pulse pounding through his flesh seemed meaningless as it was smothered beneath a haze of adrenaline. It coursed through him like water churning through a mill—powering him, compelling him. The man had no control over his own body, his mind entirely clear of frivolous things like thoughts. There was only rage, only power, only a clench of his jaw and the swing of his sword.
The feeling of its purchase into living flesh was something fulfilling. The strong odor of blood stained black with malice sent him further into his madness. He lived for battle, thriving with his life on the line and a wolfish grin on his face. He could see his sword meeting other weapons, he could hear them glancing off one another, but it was little more than background music. There was something so foreign about the fight he played a role in, but so base that it was part of his very being. The rancher didn’t have a word for the phenomenon, only a love.
And then, the fight was over. His sword dug into the dirt at his feet, cutting through a monster as it crumbled into ash and blew away on the wind. He panted for air, his eyes blurred as he stared at the trampled grass beneath him. It drained him as if the bottom fell out of his world. He was empty. Hungry. Dissatisfied.
“It’s over!” Wind cheered on the other side of the field.
Adrenaline made the sailor manic, causing him to flit about with a big grin as he gathered rupees in shaking hands on trembling knees. He scuttled through the trodden grass, sweeping green and blue gems into his pouch, racing against the veteran.
The battle had been hard-fought. As a few of the heroes spent the last surges of their energy on fighting for loot, some of the others simply took a moment to examine their surroundings or catch their breath.
Time let out an exhausted sigh, planting his sword in the ground to leverage himself beneath a lone windswept tree. He groaned softly, starting to undo his armor so he could ice and massage his back and shoulders. Warriors was immediately surveying the area to check for any other monsters. Wild and Hyrule gathered a thicket of purple mushrooms. Sky threw himself to the ground, splaying his limbs beneath the autumn afternoon.
“I win!” Four cheered, hoisting his pouch up high.
“Only ‘cuz you’re so short,” Legend grumbled. “You’re closer to the ground.”
Wind eagerly sifted through his own treasures. “I’m gonna get a beer—”
“No,” Time and Warriors scolded in unison.
Wind stuck his tongue out at the two of them. Instead, he gleefully scampered up to Twilight’s side to show off his fattened wallet. Wind darted through the grass, singing about his rupees. He thrust his pouch out towards the rancher.
“Twi! Look—”
Twilight twitched dangerously, a low growl leaving him. His grip on his sword tightened until his knuckles went white. Wind tipped his head.
“You hurt?” he asked innocently.
“Wind,” Warriors said, shooing the boy with his hands. “Give the rancher some space.”
Wind puffed his cheeks. “I’m not doing anything,” he pouted.
Warriors glanced at Twilight with a plain frown, eyeing the man briefly. He stepped between Wind and Twilight, shielding the sailor if Twilight felt the need to lash out. It happened rarely, but not never . Twilight was overly conscious of his own strength when he was himself, but when the man’s emotions made off with him, he was known to clap his brothers’ shoulders too roughly or throw things too hard or even break a glass in his hand.
“Go show Time your spoils,” Warriors said more sternly.
Wind knit his brow, finally blowing a raspberry at the captain. Childishly, he turned on his heel and stalked towards Time.
Warriors rolled his eyes over a sigh, kneading at his brow. “Teenagers,” he joked quietly, glancing back at Twilight.
The rancher shifted his weight, a tight frown on his face. “...sorry.”
Warriors smiled briefly. “It’s not your fault, man. Why don’t you take a rest?”
Twilight nodded, looking towards the tree. His face was red from exertion, sweat dripping from his bangs and chin. He was clearly warm and came around to the idea of shade as he unclasped his pelt from his shoulders. Twilight made it one step before his body failed him.
The rancher crashed to his knees, using his sword to catch himself. He buried the blade into the ground, gritting his teeth. Warriors’ eyes widened, the captain taking a knee at Twilight’s side.
“Are you hurt?”
Twilight shook his head swiftly. He wasn’t hurt. He was exhausted . The power he fought with was less than optimal for long, drawn-out battles. The longer a battle wore on, the more Twilight was at the mercy of his adrenaline. He loved that high, but it only delayed the inevitable. Instead of falling in battle to get back up after a breather, Twilight would collapse once the danger had passed, often unable to move for the better part of half an hour.
His thighs screamed at him, his abdominal muscles sore. His arms burned in fatigue and his lungs rattled over sweat and phlegm as he wheezed for air. His head pounded, the man desperate for water even though he felt as if he’d simply throw it back up just then.
“You exhausted yourself,” Warriors assumed.
Twilight nodded, looking ashamed. “Ain’ mean to,” he croaked.
“I know you don’t,” Warriors sighed.
The captain looked up over the grass, finding Time watching them in worry. Warriors nodded to indicate that it was nothing serious. Time’s face twisted into a concerned frown all the same.
“You really ought to have your lungs checked,” Warriors sighed, watching Twilight struggle to breathe.
Twilight only scowled at the captain. The rancher staunchly refused any accusations of asthma. He wasn’t like Sky, suddenly unable to breathe when they crossed eras drenched in pollen or fields choked with weeds and flowers. Twilight only struggled to catch his breath when he’d overexerted himself, and in the rancher’s mind, that was entirely normal.
Twilight sniffled, searching for his pouch. He tugged it open, pawing through it but unable to focus long enough. Instead, he pushed his pouch into Warriors’ chest less than kindly.
“Can I help you?” Warriors asked, unimpressed.
“Ginger,” Twilight choked out before he spit a glob of mucus into the grass.
Warriors nodded, finding the rancher’s excuse for a medical kit. Twilight often relied on little more than folk remedies. Honey, grain alcohol, reused linen bandages he boiled to clean, and a collection of tree bark shavings and dried herbs. Warriors found one burlap pouch, tugging out a piece of chewy candied ginger.
Twilight snatched the thing with little ceremony, pushing it against his cheek. He chewed on it deliberately, swallowing it harshly.
“You’re welcome,” Warriors chided.
Twilight rolled his eyes. “ Thanks ,” he replied.
“You shouldn’t push yourself so hard. We’re all here for a reason, Twilight.”
Twilight ignored Warriors lecture, instead flopping onto his back. He draped one arm over his eyes to block out the sunlight. Beside him, Warriors sighed. Twilight could hear the captain roll his eyes.
“Don’t ‘member it,” Twilight admitted.
“The fight?” Warriors asked.
The rancher nodded.
Warriors tipped his head, closing his eyes in some sage expression. “Adrenaline will do that to you.”
“Hm.”
Warriors stood, brushing himself off. “Well, your ginger’s out should you need it. Try that breathing exercise Sky taught you. I need to make the rounds.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Twilight grumbled.
Warriors kicked Twilight lightly in the hip. “You can make up for your attitude later.”
The rancher only mocked Warriors, parroting his words in a pitchy voice as he mimicked a mouth with his hand. Warriors only shook his head, too tired to argue the point. Later, he knew Twilight would feel bad for his behavior and punish himself with extra chores. For now, though, it was best to leave the grouchy wolf to collect himself and rest. They still had to find cover before dark and as it stood, they were in the middle of a meadow.