I was curious is all. There is nothing else to it. The storm had passed over Glorall, savage but brief, and I had been inclined to follow it. It has been many seasons - years, perhaps - since Moladion has seen clouds so dark and felt winds so strong. It was simply unfathomable to ignore the gnawing curiosity within me. It is a test, perhaps. In any case, I am not surprised to find the storm stronger than ever, a truly formidable force as it tears apart the fields.

And so, I have been reduced to a pitiful existence in these moments. The snow is heavy, impenetrable, and it clings to my fur; I can feel frost between my toes, hanging from the fur along my undersides. I feel the bite at my skin, see my breath turn to smoke and vanish in the wind. Even in my position, tucked within an alcove of roots, does little to foster true warmth. Yet, I cannot help but find a quiet pleasure in such a test; this is new, after all. It is a challenge in itself to plough through the snow and yet, I do if only to test my own strength against the winds. My tracks are deep. I shan't be lost.

Yet, it seems another is; I see the shadow faintly at first, gaining ground slowly but surely as it begins to dark and solidify. I sniff the air, frigid and foul, and yet no scent resides in a gust so strong. For a moment, I pause, considering, and yet I am drawn forward with a hefty roll of my shoulders. My ears press back, eyes narrowing, and I cannot help but instinctively fall into a defensive position as I move towards them.

But then I am able to recognize her. Even in the snow, I can see her distinct colourations, her structure. "Stulti," - foolish - the word comes out like an instinct, my teeth gritting together as I announce myself with a sharp bark. I pause if only to register her response before I come within a foot or two of her, cutting in front of her in order to block the gust somewhat. "Zeltzin." I can practically see her quivering. Should I not save her? Perform some heroic deed? Her family may be in debt then and, by extension, Hyrule too. Yet, perhaps I am moved by something else. After all, she has taught me the basics of a skill I would not have learnt otherwise - now, I will teach her the basics of survival. Lesson one: do not overestimate yourself lest you are ready to die.