…And there, at the other end of the clearing, was a familiar looking statue… and a
…And there, at the other end of the clearing, was a familiar looking statue… and a familiar looking head of messy, dirty-blonde hair. Slumped forward, face hidden; Groose couldn’t be sure if it was Link… but he was sure it wasn’t Zelda. He narrowed his eyes, taking a step closer.Sunlight shimmered on his skin like gold dust, blooming and blinding. A few birds flitted around, taking turns perching on his shoulders and trying to pluck his hair for their nests…wanted to practise lighting with a scene from a fic im writing -- source link
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