Relief washed over Cain as Felicia, after initially recoiling at the bodiless voice, dismissed the brief ordeal as nothing more than a fright by some sort of insect. At least, that was what she told her dull-eyed assistant. Perhaps she had unusual problems of her own, to dismiss so quickly an event that most people would panic and make a fuss about, at least if Cain's understanding of how people acted was anything to go on.

Barely had one commotion passed, however, than was the poor woman beset by another—and one far more physical. From the Hylian's shadow Cain got a first-hand account of the whole thing. He briefly considered intervening against his better judgment, as he would have to briefly assume full-bodied form to do so and risk the lovely morning sunlight mercilessly bleaching the very life out of him, but the whole thing became moot when Felicia dealt a hefty smack to the offending man with a convenient fish. Clearly she was able to take care of herself. However, even a sound walloping with a Reekfish didn't seem to be enough to persuade the lovestruck idiot to drop her at once. 

Cain couldn't help but wonder if this masked man had some sort of malicious intent. Why else would someone to barge into such a cheerful, harmless place clothed in cloak, hat, and mask and seize a young woman in his arms? Yet, the sheer goofiness and impulsiveness of the act made Cain suspect that his actions weren't criminal, merely impulsive, improper, and incredibly stupid. Not everyone who appeared evil lived up to appearances; Cain and Frore were living proof. Still, he decided he had better remain here in case the man attempt something more dire. A crowd had formed, both out of concern and interest, but none of them seemed like the type to be a hero. Of course, neither did Cain, but sometimes someone had to.

-=-=-

Pushing himself from the side of the cliff, Frore landed on the hard-packed village earth with a muffled [i]thurk[i]. His spear remained where he had been sitting, destined to melt now that it was deprived of its wielder's cold aura. Though he knew that he was disobeying Cain's wishes and was somewhat bothered by this knowledge, Cain dimly thought that there was no harm in looking around. Walking slowly and steadily, expelling a cloud of white mist every few moments, he made his way into the village proper. He heard hearty singing in the distance, so he went in that direction.

From the very first moment it was obvious that he made people uneasy. Without the stealth abilities of his partner or a natural talent for concealment like the Garo his partner had briefly met, Frore stuck out like a sore thumb. He towered above any of the townspeople, who shied away as they met the chill emanating from him, even through the mud-colored, Nayru-emblazoned cloak. People stared as he lumbered past, some fascinated, some worried. He wondered why. One little girl, whose mother was distracted by an intimate conversation with a friend, giggled when she saw the huge, slender Chilfos and ran up to greet him. Frore froze when the Hylian girl approached, unsure of what to do. Slowly and very methodically, he knelt down and extended a bony hand to her. Frore was dimly aware of a few other villagers watching, and, unbeknownst to him, prepared to judge him from the outcome of this encounter. Seeing his bright, glistening, icy skin, he grabbed two of his four fingers with her hands. After a moment, the Hylian's face changed from joy to pain, and both child and Chilfos suddenly recoiled. The girl, with bare fingers throbbing from sudden exposure to his extreme cold, began to cry. Frore brushed droplets of water from his slightly steaming hand where her body heat had made contact.

A second later the girl was swept up into her mother's arms, who, after being stirred from her gossiping, rushed forward in a panic. Cradling her head, the villager shouted up at the Chilfos, “You hurt my Ava! What have you got to say for yourself?” Frore took a step back, totally baffled and slightly annoyed.