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Quietly, Revali flew away from the camp. These… assorted strangers, they insisted they could help with the world being weird now and this ‘Cia’ witch who was responsible.
And, of course, there was another Link in the group. Fancy darkness-sealing sword and all. Along with the Zoran princess (who was not as... tolerable as Mipha) and the strange bug-obsessed girl, both of whom had no business being on a battlefield… were they assembling a group of skilled warriors, or desperately grabbing whatever misfits they could find to help? It seemed rather like the latter, which felt like an insult to his pride.
Well, fine. Even if they grabbed their best warrior out of desperation because they needed someone who could fight, rather than picking someone with skill, then he could still save Hyrule, multiple Hyrules, in fact.
But… warrior skills weren’t why he was out here right now. He’d told Impa he wanted to go for a flight and she’d apparently accepted that, but there was another reason.
Loathe as he was to admit it, he was scared and stressed. And there was... a certain something he’d do sometimes when he was tense in order to relax, but not in front of other people.
Determining he was now probably out of earshot for the camp, he settled down on the branch of a tree. Glancing around again to reassure himself there was no-one else around, he holstered his bow and took a few steadying breaths.
He began to sing. A bit unsteadily at first, since he hadn’t done this in awhile, but he started to get back into it. He could still hear the parts where he missed the lyrics or was off-key, but even so, he wasn’t trying to impress anyone; just relax.
The song he sang was an old one; he’d heard it many times. An aria to the spirit of wind. He could even hear the harp of the bard he’d heard it from numerous summers before. As he finished the song, he took a bow to his audience of none and the harp strummed a final… chord…
The harp hadn’t been in his head.
He lept off from the branch and fluidly drew his bow, notching an arrow so that by the time he was facing his company, he had an arrow aimed at their heart.
It was that sheikah girl, the one who seemed to command the elements with that harp of hers. She said nothing, simply bowed back to him from her own tree branch. He dropped the bow to his talons so that he could use his wings to stay aloft. Knowing she was there, all the errors he made in that song came diving out of the storm his thoughts had become when he’d realized he wasn’t alone, pelting him with his inadequacy.
That was why he didn’t sing in front of people, it was something he couldn’t do right. No need to show them his failures.
And now his beak was just flapping open and shut as he tried to figure out what to say. Now this girl would never respect him again, probably tell everyone what an awkward failure he was, and they’d be laughing or pitying him the whole time they were on this quest; maybe they wouldn’t want him to… no, no… just because he was hopeless at music didn’t mean he was a worthless on the battlefield. He could still fight, and he was very good at it; the best with a bow across of all time, it seemed, even.
She straightened up out of her mocking or customary bow, he wasn’t sure which, and he finally settled on what to say.
“I’m sorry.” he responded, just as she said “My apologies.”
While he was taken aback by this, she continued on. “I startled you and intruded on your alone time. To be expected, but your song was pretty and I knew the tune. Some musical accompaniment seemed appropriate.”
“If you thought that was pretty, you must be tone-deaf.” retorted Revali, before he could stop himself as he landed once more in the tree.
The mystery girl nodded, but then disagreed with him. “True, I’ve heard better, but you were quite good.” Oh, so she just thought he was mediocre rather than terrible. Perhaps he could convince her it was nothing worth telling the others about after all. “A few flaws, but those could be worked out with practice. If you were of a mind to work further on it, you could be master of bow and song.” She put her harp away in its sheath on her back, continuing before he could put together a response. “Still, I will not force your path. But if you desire an accompaniment again, let me know.” She inclined her head in a more informal bow. “I will let you return to your solo, and I apologize again for the intrusion.”
She raised a hand to with one of those smoke bombs, and he opened his beak to ask a question, but she answered before he could ask. “I will not tell the others of your talent, unless you do so first.” The bomb was flung at the tree, and when the smoke cleared, she was gone, with no trace of how she’d left.
And people said he was dramatic. How long did it take her to make those smoke bombs, and how much did each cost? And she was just using them for an unnecessarily flashy exit when he knew she was heading back to camp? Wasteful.
He waited what felt like an age before checking around again. No one. He hadn’t spotted her last time, but for some reason he felt sure she had left him alone as she’d said. One more song, then he’d turn in himself. Once again, he let his voice rise to the heavens; another old song, this one that called to the power of the storm. There was no harp this time, but he swore he heard an ocarina.
He paused, and checked his surroundings. No one else; no ocarina player. A long beat of silence passed, and he tentatively started up again. When he finished, he watched the clouds drift by for a moment, and then winged his way back to the camp.