It's an odd feeling, not traveling alone any longer. Months spent in solitude have left him accustomed to the long periods of silence, days spent without hearing the words of another person at all. Him, the wild and nothing else.

At the same time, there's a sense of... familiarity at Zelda's presence. Even with the mere handfuls of memories he's regained of their times together a hundred years earlier, it's felt more like slipping back into an old rhythm than anything else. Or maybe it's more a return of something he hadn't noticed had been missing.

Familiar and unfamiliar at the same time. It's strange.

Still, it's meant more than a few changes. He can't quite go wherever he pleases anymore, exploring whatever peaks or valleys that catch his eye, but it's given him a new sense of focus. A duty. It also means he can't sleep quite as late as he wants.

This morning, as usual, he's been up since the sun had started to rise over the horizon, and set about preparing for the day's travels. By the time Zelda wakes, she'll find him sitting by a rekindled campfire from the night before and breakfast well underway.


[OOC: Okay, figured I'd chuck out a fairly general starter. I'm cool with rolling with anything so I figured we'd see where this goes. Let me know if anything needs changing.]