He didn’t know how long he’d been wandering around the streets, but judging from his blue frozen hands, Link deduced all night probably. His breath was a ragged frozen mist; the laces on his boots were stiff with half-frozen dewdrops.
Shaking his head sadly, he tried to remember what he’d actually been doing for the last few hours, apart from wandering around the streets like a ghost in the night. There had been that intense hunger, which always made him uneasy, but no matter how much he ate it never went away- he always stayed as thin as ever.
Eating bread crusts was supposed to make your hair go curly, but perhaps it really was an old wives’ tale, for Link’s hair had been ice white and ruler straight as far back as he could remember. Shrugging, he raised his eyes up to the sky, noting how the light hues of morning were beginning to break through. Maybe some of the bakeries would be open; if he was lucky he might be able to get another crust to eat.
Wrapping his tan cloak around himself, he set off again, this time with more purpose to his steps. By noon it would be nice and warm, and then he’d get the weird looks from everyone again. It wasn’t his fault he didn’t have any money to buy new clothes; the tight black leather that clung like a second skin, and the loose tan coloured robes were all he had. The rest was still at farmer Jerome’s house. Link hadn’t had the guts to go back for his belongings after this row…but no one had died this time, had they? Miss Sara was still breathing, pale perhaps, but she’d always been pale. Of all the people there, she’d probably miss him the most, but it was probably the mystery of him that she would miss more.
Once she got over the whole air of the mysterious stranger she would probably watch him in an uneasy fear, like everyone else did. Your white hair and ice blue eyes are unnatural, boy! They are as unnatural as those markings you have on your skin! Begone!
Link jerked back in shock. Why did those words come to him? It must be the cold, turning his brain to ice. Shaking his head, he took stock of his surroundings. Jeez, he was back at the same place! The same cobblestoned street, the same buildings and market stalls, the same fountain in the middle…what was it that drew him here?
Squinting, he let his eyes roam up and down the street, until…the sign “brothel� caused him to pause. That must’ve been it. Link hugged his sides whilst desperately shaking his head.
“No no no no no no no!�
What was wrong with him? Why did he always end up outside those houses…what had Farmer McDonald called them…those houses of sin? He couldn’t help it…so did that make him a bad person? But, he’d never actually been inside one before, so did that count?
The familiar itching was beginning again, behind his back where the small stub was. He hurried off towards the brothel, stopping by the side of the building. He scratched the little stub, massaging little circles, and slowly the itching began to subside. In fact, he actually felt a lot better. The feelings of hunger and dizziness had gone too.
Sighing, he rested his against the wall of the building, laying his head in the cool hard stone so he could gaze once again at the sky. Dawn was definitely breaking, and he was so tired. A few minutes of sleep wouldn’t go amiss now, would it? Yawning, he was about to doze off on the spot when a sharp screeching voice pierced his eardrums, and a pair of- in his current state- what could only be described as claws yanked him off his feet.
“A five minute break, you said! Five mintes?!? I’ll show you five minutes when you see the guest list we have today! Get inside!�
Link was thrown inside, landing on hard floor, as the door slammed shut. “Now get back to work you lazy good for nothing…� The slating dribbled away into cursed mumblings as Link was hit with the noise and sheer wall of vibrant atmosphere inside.
“Wha-what is this place?� He sat up, rubbing his eyes in a confused way. Still sleepy, he half stumbled to where he thought the exit was, but it turned out to be a flight of stairs. He climbed up wearily, not even sure of where he was going. Colours swam before his eyes, objects blurred into one. And there was always that feeling…the vibrating energy that made him feel better.
Stumbling down a corridor, he poked his head sleepily into a number of rooms, where he’d been received by numerous screams- was he really that bad looking when he was tired? Finally he found a room that seemed to be unoccupied, and slumped down on the bed, falling asleep before his head even hit the pillow.
((Sorry for the lateness of my reply! Looking forward to this RP- it’s oozing with potential!))
