To a natural, the usage of Farore's Wind might have seemed as simple as closing one's eyes and opening them to find oneself elsewhere. To Frore, however, the experience was jarring and disorienting, far more than simply being surrounded by noise, emotion, and action. However, it was Cain that was affected the most. This experience was entirely different from his own method of teleportation, Dark Travel, in which the user lost consciousness as he or she dissolved into black particles that then traveled to the destination. Dark Travel was the familiar, soothing feeling of momentarily sinking into nothingness; this was hectic and nauseating, not dissimilar from being thrown about by a whirlwind of the hermit who frequented Castle Town had any clue. Lacking a corporeal form, Cain was simply a shred of magic along for the ride, and badly wanted to vomit upon arriving in the graveyard.

Mercifully, he recovered quickly. His analytical eye swept over his new surroundings. During the night this place might have seemed eerie, even haunted -to a Hylian at least- but to tread here in day was to see its mystique dispelled. The morning sun shone over the headstones, washing away any trace of the ominous and laying their secrets bare. This was somewhat disappointing, as Cain loved secrets and mystery (particularly the part where he found them out) but the cemetery was hardly the most interesting thing here. He cast a glance at the young couple high-tailing it out of there, and then fixated himself upon the being that brought him here.

It seemed that the fairy had missed him after all. She addressed Frore again, calling him the Cold One, quite fittingly. The Chilfos barely moved, an ice sculpture among the graves, clearly trying to employ his inferior mind to make sense of his situation. If anyone was going to make this encounter interesting, it would have to be Cain. His sense for the dramatic was tingling. Since the fairy remained unaware of his presence, a proper entrance could be made.

As Lethe observed Frore, tilt-headed and awaiting a reply, the shadow beneath the Chilfos began to move on its own. As it twisted to face her, stretching toward her from Frore's position and thus upside-down in her perspective, two yellow eyes with pupil-devoid irises the color of the setting sun. From the shade reverberated a voice, clear and understandable despite its lilting, undulating pitch. “Then I bet you weren't expecting me.” Cain arose from the shaded ground into what he called his half-bodied form, three-dimensional and true to scale but totally composed of transparent darkness. He floated a half foot above the ground, still technically non-corporeal but intimidating nonetheless. “Why did you help us?”