And so it began.
The blindfold was slipped off his face and thrown to the side, and Breath of the Wild responded by blinking hard, his large orange eyes readjusting to the harsh light of the sun.
Almost immediately, wolves around him started whispering. He was in the heart of the pack - only the gods could know where that was - and many others were milling about, gawking at the striking outsider. Breath was used to odd attention - he was an awkward, bumbling wolf but beyond that he boasted a rather loud coat, one that begged to be talked about. And so it wasn't much of a surprise to be spoken of yet again, in familiar hushed tones.
One wolf at a time, the Crows started approaching him, asking various questions and attempting to goad him out of his silence. A pair of wolves, at one point - it must've been a few hours in, as the sun had started to wind its way down the distant horizon - walked up to him with meat in their jaws, flaunting the smell of a bloody fresh kill. Ever indulgent, Breath of the Wild took a deep huff of the scent, his eyes nearly rolling back in his head as he drank it in. It had been a while since he'd eaten, maybe nearly a full day - he didn't want to risk hunting around a pack's territory (after all, he was only one wolf) and then he'd stumbled upon the Crows and the rest had led him here, his stomach yowling out its desperation.
Even still, Breath stood his ground. He remained, sometimes standing, sometimes sprawled out, completely quiet, not uttering a word. When a rather tempting she-wolf walked up to him, he buried deep the desire to talk back, even when she flicked him with her tail. He knew that meant flirting, and even if it was fake, it still made his heart pound. But he managed to keep his vow of silence through all of it.
When the sun finally rose, his paws felt heavy, nailed to the ground by pure exhaustion. He'd sacrificed enough sleep to find the pack itself that spending the night fully awake and aware of his surroundings had really taken a toll on him. And still he prevailed, ignoring advances from various wolves (and a few curious birds) all the while.
As it reached the time that marked the end of the trial, and he was approached by the head of the pack, he breathed an audible (very, very audible) sigh of relief. He'd done it. Though he wasn't a very social wolf and knew that aspect wouldn't be difficult, he never imagined how the lack of sleep or food would ravage him. Breath was swaying on his paws by the time it was announced he had successfully completed his trial of silence.
And soon, he would finally become a Crow.
The blindfold was slipped off his face and thrown to the side, and Breath of the Wild responded by blinking hard, his large orange eyes readjusting to the harsh light of the sun.
Almost immediately, wolves around him started whispering. He was in the heart of the pack - only the gods could know where that was - and many others were milling about, gawking at the striking outsider. Breath was used to odd attention - he was an awkward, bumbling wolf but beyond that he boasted a rather loud coat, one that begged to be talked about. And so it wasn't much of a surprise to be spoken of yet again, in familiar hushed tones.
One wolf at a time, the Crows started approaching him, asking various questions and attempting to goad him out of his silence. A pair of wolves, at one point - it must've been a few hours in, as the sun had started to wind its way down the distant horizon - walked up to him with meat in their jaws, flaunting the smell of a bloody fresh kill. Ever indulgent, Breath of the Wild took a deep huff of the scent, his eyes nearly rolling back in his head as he drank it in. It had been a while since he'd eaten, maybe nearly a full day - he didn't want to risk hunting around a pack's territory (after all, he was only one wolf) and then he'd stumbled upon the Crows and the rest had led him here, his stomach yowling out its desperation.
Even still, Breath stood his ground. He remained, sometimes standing, sometimes sprawled out, completely quiet, not uttering a word. When a rather tempting she-wolf walked up to him, he buried deep the desire to talk back, even when she flicked him with her tail. He knew that meant flirting, and even if it was fake, it still made his heart pound. But he managed to keep his vow of silence through all of it.
When the sun finally rose, his paws felt heavy, nailed to the ground by pure exhaustion. He'd sacrificed enough sleep to find the pack itself that spending the night fully awake and aware of his surroundings had really taken a toll on him. And still he prevailed, ignoring advances from various wolves (and a few curious birds) all the while.
As it reached the time that marked the end of the trial, and he was approached by the head of the pack, he breathed an audible (very, very audible) sigh of relief. He'd done it. Though he wasn't a very social wolf and knew that aspect wouldn't be difficult, he never imagined how the lack of sleep or food would ravage him. Breath was swaying on his paws by the time it was announced he had successfully completed his trial of silence.
And soon, he would finally become a Crow.
