Every step he took seemed to little alter the scenery around him, the dull thud of hefty boots upon the forest floor merely serving to carry him a few more paces, and to more trees that matched both the ones both before him and the ones he had already passed. All were tall and covered in a sky-obscuring wall of thickly leaved branches, moss-mottled barks and climbing ivies that allowed only the haziest streams of light to seep beneath their blanket of greenery. The floor of the forest had been condemned to an eternity of shade so deep that it might as well have been for all the light that fell upon it, drowning out all but the most undemanding of lesser plants from the soil around their titanic trunks. Certainly, there was no obvious way to tell from the light exactly what the time of day was – nor even how much of that time had passed since he’d first stepped out of that dappled clearing and into the deep reaches of the lost woods. Only that there was light at all even hinted it to be the daytime, and even then, he couldn’t quite be sure how much he trusted the conditions of this forest to tell the truth.

At first upon stepping out of that airy forest glade, there had seemed to be a worn path; a path he part-remembered from the journey that had first bought him this far into the woods. The chitinous shell of a hug Ghoma lay near the pathway by the side of a fallen oak as testament to that earlier visit, though the once-fleshed exoskeleton was now plucked clean by Wolfos and scavenging Guays. But continuing down the pathway had not led him out of the woods - as had hoped and expected - and instead the pathway had wound around tree-sheltered hillocks he didn’t remember, and through vegetative arches formed from the groves themselves out of twisted trunks and hollows. It was only when the path before him faded into the leaf-mulch that he had turned his head about to look behind him; and then to his horror he’d discovered the pathway behind him also seemed to have vanished. Not even his footprints were visible, and the path behind him seemed never to have existed at all. And so he had kept on walking, hoping to eventually blunder across some landmark if not the edge of the woods itself.

Had any time even passed at all since then? He paused for a moment to wonder, stopping his march to lean against the nearest of the trees, and look back along the path he had come from. There was no way to tell, no difference in the amount of light since that moment, and yet it already felt as though he’d been walking for many hours. But there was not a landmark, nor a footprint, to mark the fact that he had ever passed though that scenery. Even so, he knew he had been there once… and it was then that the dark thought struck him, driving the icy dagger of worry into the depths of his spine. If he had been there once, why not twice, or perhaps a thousand times? Had he walked for hours within this seemingly timeless forest, or perhaps for days, even months? He’d had nobody to converse with, no fellow soul with whom to judge the flow of time and distance, or with whom to halt the descent into introspection and worry.

And yet…

And yet, he had heard what sounded like the echoes of tunes in the distance, far away and faded before he could even draw close. He had heard noises that might either have been wind or laughter, or possibly both, that fell from distant branches. And it had felt like pairs of eyes were fixated upon him, watching his moves despite their own invisibility whenever he turned his head to scour his surroundings for some sight of their owner. He had swallowed, and kept himself moving along onward, hoping that it was simply paranoia making him twitchy, grinding relentlessly at his nerves due to his current loneliness on the journey.

The fear still lingered, still clung to the back of his mind despite best efforts to shut it up or shoo it away as unwanted distraction. These were not the airy woods of Faron, after all; these were the Lost Woods. Many were the stories that told of mysterious encounters underneath these trees, of the wildest of magics and the fiercest of plants and beasts; of ethereal spirits and of the timeless children of the woods, of ancient magics hidden since the start of the world, of whispering branches and of trees that talked. And of death, of spirits lost forever beneath the gloom, of bleached-white bones piled up beneath ancient roots, and skeletal warriors who had not found freedom from these woods even in death itself.

Jalon swallowed and gripped his hands tighter around the haft of his weapon, again pulling himself back from the persuasive grip of his own introspection. He had to try and keep his mind, had to try and avoid succumbing to the confines of paranoia. He needed his head clear, and to keep on walking rather then sit down or give in. Whatever magics there were that tugged at the senses to try and lead him astray, he had to keep on resisting them, keep on fighting their influence. He had to keep on walking, and keep on hoping that he would reach the edge of the woods sometime soon…

Sky took another step forward. Maybe backward. Who knew anymore? The colors, the placement of the trees, even the lines all seemed to blur into one great, inescapable labyrinth. She stopped at a rock, and turned her head to the side in contemplation. Had she just passed this rock, or was it a completely new one? For all she knew, she could be trotting along in one great big circle. For all she cared, the forest just hated her. She kicked herself for even walking into this wretched place.

Come to think of it, why exactly had she come here in the first place? She was troubled to find that she could barely recollect entering the forest at all; it was as if she had been here her entire life. She sighed, and continued her lonely gait. She should have brought her wagon.

Sky wandered for a while yet, maybe a few hours, maybe a few days. She searched for any feature of non-uniformity, some clue as to where she should go. Any tree. Any rock. Anything at all. She tried to peer ahead of her. A fog had set in shortly after she had entered the forest, and had grown steadily stronger, so that now she could scarcely see a few yards in front of her. She squinted through the mists. Was that a person, or a tree? No, no, she thought, that's much too squat to be a person. I think I saw it move...

A person! A person! Another warm body, at long last! Her heart leapt with joy, then withdrew in hesitation. They could be a brigand, or even some humanoid beast. She drew her shortsword and readied her shield, before calling out. "Hey!" she cried, the first time she'd spoken since she entered the woods. "Who's there?!"

Laughter again, more muffled laughter from high up in the branches… or was that the distant wind once more, perhaps the call of a bird? He looked upward, but saw only leaves and shifting shadows... when his head turned back to the forest floor, the woods around him were shrouded in thick mist. Alarmed, his grip on the axe tightened. Had the mist come upon him in the last few seconds? Or had it been gathering for hours, days, unnoticed in the murk?

Or was that how long he’d looked up to the canopy for? It seemed unlikely, sounded impossible; but how could he tell? With neither sun nor moon nor changing of the light, time seemed an impossibility to measure beneath these shrouded trees. Scowling a silent curse, he looked around him for the pathway.

He saw something move within the fog, just a little way in front of him. Drawing his breath sharply, he tensed his eyes darting nervously, half-expecting some monstrous apparition to burst from the rolling mists. But none came; the figure in the mist merely stood there, drawing his attention…

There was a thump behind him, and Jalon turned quickly, his axe at the ready… but found nobody there. Only a fresh-fallen pinecone, damaged where it had struck the root of the tree. Had that been the distraction? He whirled around again; searching for the shadow in the mists, trying to calm himself as best he could with racing heart and mind. Half-seen shadows seemed to dance in the mist out the corners of his eyes, but when he turned to look they were gone, and new shadows danced where he’d looked until a moment ago. Breathing heavily now, he turned himself yet again…

…and it was then that the voice called out. No whisper of the trees, no murmur from the undergrowth; but a genuine voice, clear and nervous, calling to him from just a way down the path. From a mist-shaded shape, likely the one he’d seen move, certainly the only one that remained there when he turned his gaze toward it.

“Hello?” He called back, his lips feeling dry and cracked as he parted them. How long had he gone without speaking a word but to himself, Jalon wondered? He shouldered his axe, then began walking toward the shadow in the fog, the mist thinning as he strode slowly toward whoever – or whatever - it was that awaited him, his heavy armour creaking with each step across the forest floor. “My name is Jalon…” he called out in answer, hoping a name would be enough assurance upon seeing his armoured frame. “...don’t be alarmed…”

So there was somebody else! Good. Maybe they would know the way out of here. Sky quickened her pace as the distance between the two figures grew less and less, although her blade remained at the ready in case of an emergency. "My name is Sky!" She called back, focusing her gaze as the mists between them thinned.

He was quite tall, with an impressive build to match his height. She also noticed his armor, if not for the odd impressions that it gave his silhouette, then for the subtle clanks and audible scrapes of the plates as the suit conformed to its wearer's movements. He carried in his hand an axe almost as impressive as his build.

Sky slowed her pace, astonished by the man's mass and the way he moved with such ease in his armor. The man didn't seem to mean her much harm, but if he did try anything, she wasn't so sure that she would be able to take him. She raised her shield slightly out of instinct, and asked, "What are you doing all the way out here?"

An answer called back from the stranger as he walked toward her, her voice clear as before; granting him a name to use. Jalon felt his spirit lift a little as he stepped closer to the mist-shrouded figure, her shape in the fog becoming clearer as the distance between them shrunk to mere yards. It was reassuring to hear from a real person again, her Hylian silhouette in the fog a strange parody of normality in the midst of this eerie, whisper-haunted forest.

But still he approached cautiously, not wanting to give the woman cause to turn from him and flee; hoping the sight of his armour would not be enough to cause that reaction anyway the minute she drew close enough to see it in detail. Finding another person in the midst of this forest seemed fortunate enough, and Jalon doubted his luck would repeat the gesture so easily. Perhaps the women might even know a way out of the woods?

“Looking for the path…” he answered as the mist between them thinned enough to see the outlines of her face, not quite willing to let this stranger know just how lost he’d felt, nor of how long he feared might have passed; and certainly not willing to raise mention of ‘Termina’ to a complete stranger and be thought of as a madman. “I was travelling back to Castle town. But I must have stepped off the path somewhere, and can’t find it again. And all the trees here look the same.”

He sighed, the plate above his shoulder clanking as it shifted. “How about you?” Jalon asked, drawing closer, the mists between them at last thin enough to see clearly. She was holding a shield, raised, and her other hand clutched a shortsword. Sensible, in monster haunted woods such as these. And especially so when armed, armoured figures walked toward you from out of the fog. Lifting his axe off his shoulder, Jalon placed it into the binding straps behind his back, and carefully folded his arms in front of him.

The imposing figure put away his axe, showing that he meant Sky no harm. She put away her sword in kind, keeping her shield ready as a failsafe, before addressing his query. "I... uh, I don't really know why I wandered in here. You're right, it does all look the same." She sighed, sitting on the forest floor, exchanging formalities for comfort. "I can't even tell what time of day it is here... "

She straightened her posture, looking up to see Jalon's face properly. "It's a good thing we found each other. I've heard stories about this place. Bad things happen to people who travel alone."

She stood again. "Not to impose myself on you, or anything. I'm just saying that we could help each other. Help each other leave, that is. Not to mention that we could talk to each other. I'm not typically such a chatterbox, but I feel as though I haven't spoken in days. "

Jalon nodded his head at that. He couldn’t tell either, and the time of day itself seemed almost irrelevant in the current gloom. Standing with his back to an ancient Oak, he leaned against it as the woman took a seat upon the forest floor, his chin touched to his neck as he looked down at her.

“Heard those stories myself.” He agreed, his right arm shifting against the tree-bark to scratch an itching shoulder. “Folk lured into danger by the forest children, lost wanderers turning to mouldering Stalfos. And I’ve seen how large the Ghomas can get around these parts...”

He turned his head up a fraction, glancing up into the misty canopy. Had something just moved up there, or was it just the distant wind shaking a high branch? “No, someone watching your back is no imposition in a place like this one, just welcome. I’d have offered myself if you hadn’t beaten me there.” He smiled, thinly, extending his un-armoured hand, his palm held vertically.

How long had they both been wandering, Jalon wondered? It had felt like days since he'd last spoken a word to another person himself, perhaps longer. Perhaps far shorter. He gave a quick grimmace as he thought on the matter. Time was rumoured to pass strangely around these parts...

“And I like the sound of getting out of these woods. Any ideas how?” Jalon asked, drawing a rather faded and dated parchment from his belongings. “My Map’s no use without any features to go by, and we can’t exactly go by the sun in here.”

She took Jalon's extended hand, shaking it firmly. She wondered, as she often did, if that was the socially appropriate response. Probably. She noticed that he was smiling, and returned it.

Sky turned her gaze up into the seemingly infinite canopy, searching for whatever had apparently captured Jalon's gaze moments ago. She thought of the odd noises prevalent throughout the woods. The rustling of the trees was already unsettling, and it was only now that she realized that the source of the disturbances were not from the nearby shrubbery, but from above. She took a step back reflexively, hoping that none of their surveyors were hostile.

Her attention fell back to Jalon, who had produced a map. It took her a moment to realize that he was asking her if she knew how to leave. "Oh, uhm, no... I'm sorry. I guess we're both just as lost as the other."

Then came a resting of voices, silence save for the varied sounds of fauna.

"Have you..." she started up again, briefly pausing, "Have you heard any rustling? Rustling from up there? The trees, that is... Have you felt like somebody's been watching you?" She looked up again, this time attempting to pinpoint the source of the disturbances. Maybe she was just going crazy. Her features tensed, and she found herself reaching once more for her sword.

So they were both in the same cart. Darn. It was what he’d expected, really; but still he’d hoped Sky might have had more knowledge of the local woods then he did. Yet as that wasn’t the case, the map seemed little use at this moment. As silence settled for a moment, Jalon tightened his grasp on the parchment, creasing it a little before folding and tucking it away.

His lip crinkled as Sky spoke up again, and Jalon nodded. He threw his own brief glance upward; yet saw nothing but leaves and twigs, no sign this time, not even the aftermath of movement in the branches. “You too?” he answered; not yet relenting his arboreal search, his neck craning a little as he turned toward another tree… then quickly, back to the first. Had something moved up there, just when he’d looked away?

“I’ve felt… something.” he muttered “Something watching me from up in the trees.” A pause, and a flicker in the corners of his eyes. “I don’t know what, or how long for.” His head turned again, but Jalon found as little as he had the first time. “I thought I’d imagined it a few times. Unseen eyes watching from the treetops and bushes, the whispers of distant laughter, eerie echoes that sound like strange music…”

His words faltered, and Jalon tensely sucked his lips as he looked down, and back to Sky. “…but if you feel it too, if you hear them…” he added, trailing off again. It was a slight comfort to hope he’d not been going crazy after all; though a far larger discomfort to think of someone or something watching them, unseen. He noticed Sky’s hand, straying toward her sword… had she seen something? He looked again, his own hands straying to his weapon as he followed her gaze...