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His trainer is… intense, is the only word that Wind has for him. Wars (what a stupid name) babbles away rules and procedures almost faster than he can keep up.
It's a lot to take in for someone who's entire job is just to be 'wash dishes.'
"And this si the fryer," Wars says, gesturing to the vat of oil bubbling in the corner. "You do not touch that. Ever."
"Or what?" Wind can't help but ask.
"Or me!" Comes a new voice and Wind turns, and his eyes blow wide.
Oh Hylia, those scars.
"Wild, stop scaring the kids!"