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“Twilight!” Time yelled, throwing himself down beside his pup.
Twilight lay face first in the snow, his head turned to the side. The snow on the ground turned his fingers and face a bright shade of red, but it was almost mute against the scarlet blood clouding the banks. It seeped from Twilight’s head, hot blood melting through the outer layers of snow, spreading out in a slow crawl beneath a mild flurry.
Time shook Twilight’s shoulder, cursing to himself as he did. Twilight groaned softly, but didn’t wake.
“I’m here,” Warriors said, taking a knee at Twilight’s other side.
The captain reached out, pushing his fingers to Twilight’s neck. He found a steady pulse and a quick sweep made Warriors confident that he could roll Twilight onto his back. Warriors took Twilight by the shoulders, prying him upwards from the snow.
“Captain,” Time urged, “if his neck—”
“It’s alright,” Warriors tried to soothe despite his clipped professional tone.
Time fretted nonetheless. Warriors pulled Twilight onto his back finally, being as gentle as he could give the speed with which he needed to work. He frowned, patting Twilight’s cheek harshly. The rancher’s lips parted as if he were trying to speak. Warriors frown pressed tighter. He pushed his knuckles against Twilight’s sternum, drove them in, and rubbed.
Twilight’s face gathered in discomfort. He opened one eye before the other, his vision swimming as he did. He winced away from the harsh glow of daylight bouncing off the white landscape. Even behind closed eyes, he continued to feel as though he were spinning round and round on a swing, someone pushing him along faster and faster. His stomach turned, his throat tightened. Twilight licked his lips faintly, fighting back nausea though he could hardly make sense of his own person.
“It’s alright, rancher,” Warriors said. “We’re just going to take a look.”
Warriors used his thumb, pushing it beneath Twilight’s brow to force the man’s eye open again. Twilight squirmed, one hand pawing at the air weakly to try and force Warriors away from him. Instead, Time stole the rancher’s hand and squeezed it between his own.
“Sh, sh,” Time hushed. “Bear with us now.”
Twilight let out a garbled string of raspy syllables. The words were unintelligible, but the tone was enough to make his point. Warriors and Time simply ignored him.
“Can you look at me?” Warriors asked sternly.
Twilight’s eye slid back and forth, rolling aimlessly.
“Rancher,” Warriors demanded more loudly. “Look at me.”
When words weren’t enough to get Twilight’s attention, Warriors brushed one hand over Twilight’s snow-dampened face. Twilight tensed slightly as if startled by the touch. His eye reflexively looked down, lagging for a moment before it swept up to the captain.
“There you are,” Warriors praised. “Can you say something?”
Twilight groaned again, another sloppy run of syllables leaving him.
“Words, rancher. Can you tell me your name?”
Twilight fussed again, trying to get away from Time’s touch.
Warriors frowned, brow knotting. Across their numbers, they’d suffered several concussions though most were mild. Warriors wasn’t sure even a potion would fix Twilight up then, and that a fairy might still leave him with a headache.
The captain let his touch slide away from Twilight’s face, pushing his fingers into the rancher’s hair instead. And there, he found a gouge made from the sheer force of a blunt instrument. Warriors grimaced in sympathy, gently prying at the edges of the wound. It was deeper than he liked, though he couldn’t see the bone. Still, Warriors had no way of seeing whether or not Twilight’s skull had cracked.
“Better safe than sorry,” Warriors sighed to himself. He lifted his head, looking towards the younger heroes who lingered at a distance, worry on their faces. “I need a fairy!”
The others distracted themselves with chatter and cards, but Wild couldn’t think of anything except Twilight. Part of him was angry with the others for abandoning Twilight so readily, but he also knew there was nothing to do but wait.
Twilight was tucked into his bed, face peaceful as he slept soundly. A tight bandage wrapped around his head, forcing his hair out from under it in ways Wild would’ve laughed at in better circumstances. A bruise, brownish-green, spread out from beneath the rancher’s hairline to stain his temple. And that was after the fairy.
The champion sat cross-legged beside Twilight, close enough his wrist or knee would occasionally brush up against the back of Twilight’s hand. As he sat, Wild’s knee bounced wildly, his hands clutching his ankles tightly, his palms wet with a nervous sweat. He bore his gaze into his sleeping brother’s face, as if trying to wake him through sheer will alone.
Wild wasn’t worried Twilight would die. In fact, the champion didn’t really know what worried him about it. In the end, he settled on the idea that Twilight wouldn’t die, he would just simply never wake up at all. The way Wild had.
But those fears were assuaged when Twilight stirred. His hands clenched weakly, his face pinching. A soft noise escaped him and a moment later, his eyes fluttered open. At first, they stared at the cave ceiling as he tried to reorient himself. But then, Twilight’s eyes fell onto Wild. And suddenly, Wild was very afraid.
There wasn’t a glimmer of recognition in Twilight’s gaze.
“...Twi?” Wild mumbled, his voice trembling.
Twilight screwed up one side of his face, drawing his hand upwards to rub at his cheek and eye. He hissed in pain as the pressure traveled up to that tender bruise on his hand. His fingers slid up to find it, to prod, but they found the rough twill of bandages and—
“Gah—!” Twilight uttered. He twisted his head to the side, a few curses slipping his lips.
“Well don’t touch it,” Warriors scolded through a sigh.
Wild looked up, doing his best not to cry just then. He was only making assumptions. Twilight would never forget him. In fact, Twilight hadn’t even hinted at—
“Where’m I?” the rancher murmured.
He sat up on his elbows, peering into the cave beneath a furrowed brow. Twilight used the heel of his palm to rub at his eyes, as if trying to clear them.
“Can you see alright?” Warriors asked as he sat beside Twilight.
Twilight frowned, shaking his head. The movement made him dizzy though, sending him off balance. Warriors caught Twilight as he fell to the side.
“Don’t move too fast,” the captain cautioned. “Tell me what you can see.”
“S’blurry,” Twilight slurred.
“Is that all? No dark spots? Flashing lights?”
“Jus’ blurry,” Twilight confirmed.
“Alright.”
Warriors seemed relieved. Wild couldn’t parse the idea that any vision troubles were cause for relief.
“Do you know where you are?”
Twilight shook his head again, grimacing as it brought on more dizziness.
“Just use your words, rancher. No need to move around.”
“Dunno where’m at,” Twilight said, closing his eyes again.
“Alright, and do you know who I am?” Warriors asked.
Wild tensed at the question. Warriors kept a remarkably stern look on his face, as if he were asking what color the sky was. Wild told himself that it was a silly fear to have. Twilight didn’t know where he was because he’d been unconscious when they made camp. Surely the rancher would make one of his little jokes just to annoy Warriors. He’d call the captain a tenderfoot or a bootlicker or a royal pain in his—
“No,” Twilight answered, as if he didn’t find that troubling at all.”
Warriors drew in a breath through his nose. “I…see. Do you know who that is?” This time, the captain pointed at Wild.
Wild’s lungs stopped working, his heart pounding so hard he thought it might punch through his ribs and skitter across the cave floor. He so desperately wished Warriors hadn’t asked that.
Twilight considered Wild briefly, squinting at him to make out some features. “No,” the rancher said again.
Wild shuddered, a sob escaping him immediately. He bowed his head, surprised the tears came on so fast. He clambered to clean his face, smearing his hands against his cheeks, but the panic brewed more and more and he couldn’t breathe right as his face grew hot and his clothes too heavy and there was hair on the back of his neck—
“Easy, easy,” Hyrule said.
Wild startled, snapping his head up with a gasp. The traveler was at his side, wearing a sorry smile. Hyrule held Wild’s hand, patting it gently. Wild’s bottom lip quivered. He broke down into more sobs.
“Trav,” Warriors pressed, “go help Wild calm down.”
Hyrule nodded, but Wild pushed the boy away.
“No!” Wild cried. “I’m not leaving!”
Twilight flinched away from the shout, covering his ears.
Warriors folded his arms, scolding Wild with a look. “You need to make space for Legend, so he can help me.”
Wild shook his head again, growing more frantic. “I—I can help!”
“No. Get a drink of water, catch your breath—”
Wild grabbed Twilight’s arm, clutching it to his chest. Tearfully, he searched the rancher’s face.
“Twilight!” Wild whined. “Twi, it’s me! You know me!”
Twilight was clearly concerned for Wild, but quite uncomfortable all the same. Wild felt like someone took a sledgehammer to his side—Twilight was trying to break free from his grip.
Hyrule pushed his arms beneath Wild’s shoulders, clasping his hands at the champion’s sternum. He strained out a noise as he forced Wild to his feet, but Wild flailed and fought until Sky and Four were there to help Hyrule drag him away.
“Twilight!” Wild screamed.
He wailed inconsolably, his breaths loud and gasping. Snot and tears soaked his face, pasting his hair to his cheeks, wetting the collar of his shirt.
“S’he okay…?” Twilight asked.
Warriors nodded once. “He’s fine. Let me have a look now.”
Twilight closed his eyes, conceding with an exhausted sigh. He only made it another second before he was asleep again, completely oblivious as the captain checked his head.