Post by Folus Tarius on Nov 9, 2021 0:25:06 GMT
In the aftermath of some kind of atrocious, god-forsaken accident involving an ambush of monsters, Folus found himself at the edge of his wits. Moonlight shimmered through the canopy last time he checked. But it looked like there was some sort of orange creeping up in the sky. He was frantically gasping for air in between each step, his staff held out in self-defense.
Earlier in the night, as per his usual routine, Folus was surveying the outer perimeter of the Sacred Grove. He would instruct the children of the forest to go back to their homes and inspect their efforts put toward their daily goals: complacent with the results he saw, he would continue setting up whatever minor defenses he could to ensure his nightly routine had every step checked off his mental list. Clockwork... sometimes he missed the distant sound of Clock Town's bell. Though he had grown accustomed to the crisper air of Hyrule's forest rather than the dank, musty air that pressed on everyone's chest when they were in Termina's Southern Swamp. Folus' routine was coming to a close quite nicely, and he was impressed with "his" peoples' achievements. He wouldn't take ownership of any group of people - he was entrusted to protect them, not lead them... or had he misunderstood his late king's wishes?
Staring at the canopy blanketing the sky, his train of thought was quickly derailed by the sound of a trap going off. At first he thought it was a Kokiri or Korok playing a prank, but then he listened again. No, it wasn't one of them; whatever was caught in his trap had a distinctly awful sound coming out of its throat. A high-pitched, distorted moan of what he thought was a Lizalfos. Then he saw the skeleton hanging in his trap, complete with armor and everything. More skeletons crawled out of the ground, and a Big Skulltula skittered down the trunk of a tree. It had caught sight of Folus, who had no choice but to run for his life. His combat skills had gotten rusty, and his magic was only so strong: he created gusts of wind wherever he could to give himself a boost.
Those monsters would be gone at sunrise, but they would chase him until that time came. For once, his domain was not the first thing to come to his mind. Saving his own life came to mind first, which was perfectly natural; although, when he had a moment to catch his breath, he feared the worst for his people. Torn between facing his fear of the Skulltula (he had seen many Deku eaten by the giant arachnids) and the Stalfos in an attempt to save "his" people, or flee further... well, he didn't have much time to think about it. Before long, a web shot just a few feet from his body. The Staflos had been clanging their swords, cackling as they chased the trembling Deku.
Ashamed of himself, he ran and ran. Further and further until he eventually left the forest altogether, hoping to come to a wide-open area where the sunlight wouldn't be blocked by the dense trees. The Skulltula would likely stay in the forest, which would just leave the Stalfos after him... and come sun-up, they'd be gone, too. Now he was gasping for air, noticing the orange light trace the horizon. He looked behind him, the monsters still on his trail. He looked around, and thought he saw a silhouette of a man walking around the field. He called desperately for help.
