Feeling the sun's soft caress on his fleshy cheeks reminded him of Irene's gentle touch. She was a kind soul amongst a sea of hatred and judgment, of conformity and standards. And yet here he was, going into the place where her suffering began. He scolded himself for thinking of seeking pleasure in the town of such despicable cowards, whom he would have to see for himself.
Lost in his reverie, Link's mind grounded itself after hearing a commotion. In the near distance, there was a mob of men (there were even soldiers present) outside of Castle Town's protective stone walls. Some were raising their makeshift weapons of common household items, such as skillets, brooms, and ladles. Others were merely shouting, as if rallying for attention. The crowd made a circle, entrapping whatever beast lay in their territory.
"Monster!" accused a middle-aged man with apparent wrinkles from stress. He seemed to be trying to jab at the captured animal with his pitchfork. A hum of agreement and wild laughter riled up from within the people. Link could hear nasty remarks and labels being spat towards the poor creature. Curious, he ventured closer and dismounted his horse Epona and approached the maniacal scene.
He tapped the nearest soldier's armored shoulder from behind. "Excuse me," he said. The soldier turned around to meet his gaze. "What's going on here?"
Noticing the strange traveller's familiar long, pointed ears and hearing, the soldier's previous scowl shifted into a welcoming smile. "Ah! Well, a few smart folks from town finally caught that godforsaken evil witch-monster-creature, whatever it's called. Someone went to go tell Her Royal Highness about this miracle."
"You rotten bitch!"
"Look at my face! You did this to me!"
"Burn her!"
"You'll get what's comin' to ya!"
Link cringed at the venomous words spat at the center of the mass. From where he stood, he could only see the backs of furious, sweating commoners. Though craning his neck and tip-toeing gave him an inch or so, the teenage boy couldn't see much past the meaty shoulders of the men in front of him. Curiosity ate at him like a viper's poison. He hoped that his itching suspicions weren't true.
Pushing past the reeking bodies in his path, shoving a few petite women to the side and squeezing his way from between thicker men, Link got to the center of the circle only to confirm his undesired suspicions. There she lay in a fetal position in a steel cage, unmoving, not resisting. Her fixed gaze was as hard as the dense steel of the cage, as if her mind was in a different realm. Her disheveled pink hair covered half of her pallid face. Blood stained the metal floor where her left foot was, her ankle limp and drained of life from an iron jaw crunching its sharp teeth into the bone of its prey.
It was when her eyes shifted and locked with his blue ones when Link finally found his voice amidst the absolute shock and horror sprinting through his system. It was then when relief poured into his heart, for he knew she was alive. The rage of the townsfolk slowly died down in confusion when all eyes were on the strangely dressed green lad as he knelt in front of the beast's confinement. They watched as his gloved hand took the creature's lethargic one; he picked up her hand as if he were collecting the shards of a broken teacup. Her short, ragged breaths eased into a calm and consistent rhythm.
"Oi! What do you think you're doing?! You'll be contaminated!" a voice carried over from the inner circle. It was from a portly middle-aged man cradling the shoulders of his young wife (young enough to be his daughter even) in his free arm, the one without a torch intended to set fire to the beast's foul hair.
"Contaminated?" the boy said in a low tone. He rose, looking down at Irene's cell. Pure, white-hot air heated his core. "You think she's some disease? That she's a loathsome creature with rabies? That she deserves to be hunted like some poor animal?"
