do care + didn't ask + playing + silly

"Whitson, have you ever talked to a Korok?"

Whitson chuckled. What a classically Goldie question. And of course she asked it while mucking out a horse stall (their usual trade - Whitson curried Victor, and Goldie did some stable work to save the grooming fee).

It wasn't an unusual question, either. The old man thought about it himself every time he arrived at Woodland Stable for a rotation. Of course, if you were one of the lucky few who had seen one, or multiple, how could you tell anyone about it? Who would believe you? Most of the legend of the Great Deku Tree and his children had been forgotten. Even the seeds were invisible to most.

"So you think I'm pure of heart? That's a kind assessment."

Goldie ducked her head, then remembered why she'd been keeping her nose in the air. "Well, I certainly don't think you're evil."

"Most folks in Hyrule aren't evil. Even the Yiga aren't evil, just a little...deranged, sometimes."

"More than sometimes."

"Goldie, have you ever talked to a banana?"

Giggling, Goldie gave the bottom of the stall one last sift. "It's not funny - it shouldn't be - but maybe I'll add the Yiga to my list next."

"List?"

What a privilege it was, to have befriended such a kind, intelligent, curious young woman. Bubbulfrogs, not exclusive to the pure of heart, had better watch out that she didn't start jotting down their locations.

Sure enough, "My list of topics to explore. One of the things Symin struggles with the most right now is practical examples and direct knowledge of the events he teaches the children about. A teacher is a facilitator first, but I want to really know what I'm talking about."

"I don't see a notebook," Whitson pointed out, not unkindly, thinking back to his mental comment about "jotting down" such information.

"Yeah..." Goldie almost scratched her head in sheepishness, before remembering her current task. Next were the fresh wood shavings and straw. "I get so worried about absorbing the information in the moment that I can't really take any useful notes."

"But you're not forgetful, are you?"

"Thank the goddesses, no."

"So you do summarize what you've learned, when you've finished? Give Victor here the lowdown?"

Goldie pursed her lips and busied herself, conspicuously, with prying open a crate.

Shaking his head and chuckling to himself, as old men were wont to do, Whitson gave Victor a final pat and turned to head back into the stable's interior.

"Oh, wait, come back!"

Whitson laughed again, now more forcefully. "That's right! You looked so trim in your best overalls I nearly forgot you'll be leaving when you've finished."

She didn't have to, of course, but she usually did. Privately, Goldie often wished that Whitson had a permanent residence where they could just share a cup of tea and chat. Her aunt was sweet, and she had no principal yearnings toward independence since she liked having a place to bunk that wasn't just a bunk, and would probably end up living in a village no matter what, but it felt like she was always begging favors, of a sort; snatching at chances to connect with older, more experienced folk, and missing a feeling of security with her other friends. Not that Flexter and Baelve didn't come with great conversation, but there was always that reminder: "You'll be leaving."

So she did. At times she felt as transient as a Korok floating on the breeze.

That was how the stories described them, anyway.

Whitson was still standing halfway between Goldie and the stable's smoking nostrils, waiting.

Patiently. For her. Oh, Hylia, she needed that.

"So you haven't seen a Korok?"

A grin. "I never said that."

Goldie gasped. "Where? When?!"

"It was a long time ago."

Flexter would cut in around now: "Like, long long, or old-people long?" Meaning, was Whitson a child, or just younger at the time?

"I planted the seed it gave me in my barracks, but it never sprouted. By the time I retired, I'd forgotten about it."

Goldie frowned, nodded. "By the time you retired, it might have died. Or...become invisible to you, I suppose."

"Imagine how many invisible Korok seeds are scattered all around us. There might even be one in that pile of droppings."