Jaws that bite, claws that catch

Part 8

a/n: i know this is chapter seven, but damn wattapad refuses to let me change the title for some reason. enjoy chapter seven and beyond

***

Wild was not a very religious person. He was not foolish enough to openly damn the gods, but he's never made an effort to pray. Not to Hylia, not to Farore, to any dragon or spirit. The closest he's come was to Zelda. He wondered if she could hear him. Right now Wild could use some wisdom.

Once they were back at the tent, Weaver pulled out a piece of parchment and an inkwell. He gestured to Wild to sit down at the desk to write. "Alright, tell me everything. Your friend's name, his age, his physical description, everything."

Wild didn't sit down. "Not yet. I have requirements first."

Weaver slammed his fist upon the table hard enough to rattle everything. Wild knew he was playing a dangerous game here. Weaver was smart but his temper was short. If Wild pushed too much he was going to get that same fist to his face.

Weaver must have decided anger had no point and audibly sighed. He pulled back, calmer now. "And what are those?"

"I need to send a letter to my friends. I need to inform them what is happening here."

"Can they be trusted?"

"Yes. They're good people. They will come to help."

"Was your friend a 'good people' as well?"

Wild ducked his head down in shame. That was a question he had no answer to. He did not doubt his companions were true heroes and would never commit the same atrocities Twilight had. However he knew there was darkness in their hearts. Many of them have seen and experienced terrible things. With the right trigger, they could lose themselves and commit atrocities without thinking.

Weaver suddenly grasped his chin, forcing him to look up.

"I can't read your expressions if you're looking down at the floor," he said. "Tell me, do you feel guilty for your friend's actions?"

Wild said nothing. Weaver was too close, his gaze burning a hole into Wild's own.

"Do you believe you can save him?"

Wild still said nothing. Whatever the answer was, only Weaver knew.

"Can I trust you to be truthful with me?"

This time Wild did try to school his features. He didn't want to hand all his secrets over so easily.

Weaver held onto his chin for a few seconds longer, then let go. "Go write your letter."

***

The letter was short and to the point.

Rancher possessed.

Need help.

Find me.

Weaver frowned as he read it. "Your friend is possessed?"

"I... don't know. He's never acted this way before. It's the best explanation I can give for the moment. At least this way my friends will know to be wary if they come across him before me."

"Hmmm... this is acceptable. I will send this off."

Weaver gave the letter to a guard with instructions where to send it. The guard narrowed his eyes at Wild. There was an anger in his face that was troubling. Weaver picked up on it and snapped, "If you do anything to destroy this letter, I'll have your head!"

The guard straightened, threat understood. He bowed and quickly left to avoid any further wrath.

Weaver turned to Wild. "I did what you wanted. Now tell me everything."

Wild sat there miserably. What should he reveal? He's already admitted so much. Too much. He shouldn't be protecting Twilight. Not after all of this. Wild asked, "What will you do to him?"

"Right now he needs to be detained. After that he will be questioned. We will do a full investigation. From there, trial. After that depends on the courts."

"Will you kill him?"

"If he forces us to."

Guilt continued to pull Wild down. "Alright... I'll tell you everything."

***

Wild did tell Weaver everything. Twilight's name, his physical description, his height, weight, his clothes, his occupation, his athletic ability.

What he didn't tell Weaver was the wolf, Twilight's moniker, his heroism, his magic ability, his facial tattoo, the Sheikah Slate, or the fact the man can wrestle gorons bare handed. There were some secrets Wild still needed to protect.

Weaver scowled at the description. "Your friend is boring. White male, age twenty to twenty-five, has brown hair and brown eyes. That describes a good portion of the population of Hyrule. That describes a good portion of my men here."

"I don't know what you want me to say."

"For a mass murderer I expected something a little more dramatic than average. Regardless I'll give this information to my men. For now you stay here. I still-"

The flaps of the tent flew open. A soldier walked in. "Sir, we have a situation."