Chapter 10: Sharing Zelda
The jungle path opened into a small, mossy clearing, sunlight piercing the thick canopy in dusty shafts. The frantic pounding of feet and the herd’s distant, furious bellows faded, replaced by the buzz of insects and the frantic chirping of unseen birds. Panting, soaked in sweat and river water, the group collapsed. Heavy chunks of raw hippo meat thudded onto the thick carpet of ferns and fallen leaves.
Link leaned against a massive kapok tree, its buttress roots forming a natural seat. He watched Zelda, his breath still coming hard. She was already moving efficiently, gathering dry twigs and moss, her sharp eyes scanning the dense undergrowth while her hands worked. Krell dropped his load and vanished silently into the green, reappearing moments later with armfuls of dry, brittle branches. Gark slumped to the ground, trembling, his spear clattering beside him. Gor and Varn just stood, chests heaving, staring blankly at the pile of meat as if surprised they’d actually escaped with it.
"Fire," Zelda said, her voice steady despite the run. She struck flint against her obsidian knife, sending bright sparks cascading onto the dry tinder Krell provided. A tiny flame licked up, catching the moss, then the twigs. The scent of woodsmoke began to mix with the jungle’s damp earthiness and the metallic tang of the fresh meat.
Link grabbed the largest chunk he’d carried – a thick slab from the hippo’s flank. He sank his flint knife deep, sawing off thick, dripping steaks. He tossed one to Krell, who caught it deftly and speared it onto a green stick he’d sharpened. Link threw another to Gor, who fumbled it, the meat landing with a wet slap on the ferns. Varn scrambled for his own piece. Gark just watched, wide-eyed.
"Eat!" Link commanded, skewering his own steak and thrusting it towards the growing fire. "Need strong! Path long. Teeth maybe still follow smell." He glanced meaningfully back down the path they’d fled. The distant echo of a hippo bellow, faint but undeniable, rolled through the trees.
Fat sizzled and popped as the meat neared the flames. The smell changed, becoming richer, more savory, cutting through the fear-sweat smell clinging to them. Zelda expertly turned her piece, her gaze occasionally flicking towards Gark, Varn, and Gor. They were huddled together, talking in low tones, their eyes darting towards Zelda, then quickly away. Their laughter was too loud, too forced. Link watched them, a low rumble starting in his chest. He knew that look. He'd seen it before, when they looked at Zelda.
He pulled his searing steak from the fire. It was charred on the outside, glistening red-pink inside. He tore off a huge chunk with his teeth, chewing savagely. Then he stood, deliberately placing himself between Zelda and the three younger men. He pointed his greasy knife first at Gark, then Gor, then Varn, his voice a low growl that silenced their nervous chatter instantly.
"Listen!" Link boomed, flecks of meat flying. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, leaving a smear of grease and blood. "Zelda!" He jabbed the knife towards her. She looked up, calmly turning her steak. "Zelda Link mate!" He thumped his chest hard. "Mine! Understand? Gark! Gor! Varn! You look?" He narrowed his eyes, a dangerous glint in them. "Look too much? Touch? Link crush! Like crush big swimmer head! Zelda for Link!" He glared at each of them in turn. "No share! No happy juice on Zelda from you!"
Gark flinched as if struck, his face paling further beneath the grime. Gor looked down at his own meat, suddenly fascinated. Varn gulped audibly. Krell simply watched, expressionless, chewing methodically.
Zelda let out a soft, melodic chuckle. She pulled her perfectly cooked steak from the fire, the aroma making Link's stomach rumble despite his anger. She stood, stepping around Link, ignoring his possessive stance. She walked calmly towards the trio. They shrank back slightly.
"Link big strong," she said, her voice warm and amused, though her eyes held a sharp intelligence. She took a small, deliberate bite of her meat, chewing slowly. "Link worry too much." She looked directly at Gark, then Gor, then Varn. A faint, knowing smile touched her lips. "Zelda strong too. Zelda choose Link. Link meat stick big. Very… good." She winked at Link, who blinked, momentarily confused. Then she turned back to the men. "You friends. Tribe. Good hunters. Brave today." She gestured vaguely back towards the distant river. "Happy juice…" Her smile widened, utterly unembarrassed. "Water splash. Accident! Funny! Silly boys. Zelda skin wash." She shrugged one shoulder, the movement casual. "Not mind. Make Zelda… shiny?" She let out a genuine laugh, light and surprisingly musical in the tense clearing. "Maybe bring luck! We got big meat! Juicy meat!" She held up her steak triumphantly.
Gark managed a weak, relieved smile. Gor let out a shaky chuckle. Varn grinned, some of the tension easing from his shoulders. Link watched, his fierce possessiveness warring with pride at Zelda’s easy authority and the obvious effect her words had. She wasn’t angry. She was… amused. Almost pleased by the attention, even the ridiculous "happy juice" incident. He felt the heat in his chest shift, the anger cooling into a warm, possessive satisfaction. She chose him. She liked his meat stick. She laughed off the others."See?" Zelda said, turning back to Link. She walked up to him, standing close. She reached out and poked his hard chest. "No crush friends. Friends help carry meat." She took another bite, her eyes holding his. "Link strong protector. Good. But Zelda know." She tapped her temple. "Tribe need all. Need friends strong too. Need… happy sometimes." She leaned in slightly, her voice dropping to a murmur just for him, though the others could likely still hear. "Zelda like Link happy juice best. Only Link juice." She gave him a look that was half affection, half primal promise, before stepping back.
Link grunted, a sound that was part acknowledgment, part lingering possessiveness, but mostly appeased. He tore off another huge bite of meat. "Friends help carry," he conceded, gesturing towards the remaining pile of hippo cuts with his knife. "Fast. Sun go down. Night things come. Worse than teeth."
Gark scrambled up, grabbing a chunk of meat with newfound energy. "Carry! Yes! Fast!" Gor and Varn joined him, hefting loads. Krell had already finished eating and was dousing the fire with dirt, smothering the embers completely.
Zelda finished her steak, licking her fingers clean. She scanned the deepening shadows under the trees, her playful mood shifting instantly back to alertness. The distant hippo bellow sounded again, closer than before. Or was it just the acoustics of the jungle? A different sound, a low chuffing cough, echoed from deeper in the foliage to their left.
"Not just swimmers angry," Zelda murmured, her eyes narrowed. She pointed her obsidian knife towards the sound. "Big cat smell blood too. Big cat hungry."
Link hefted the heaviest remaining piece onto his shoulder, the weight a comforting anchor. He scanned the green walls surrounding them. The path ahead looked dark, the sunlight fading rapidly. The jungle wasn't just behind them anymore; it was pressing in from all sides, alive with unseen eyes and hungers far older than hippos. The meat was a beacon. He met Zelda’s gaze. Her earlier amusement was gone, replaced by the hard, watchful stare of the huntress, the protector.
"Move," Link growled, not a shout, but a low, urgent rumble that carried through the clearing. "Stay close. Krell, watch back. Zelda, watch sides. Gor, Varn, Gark – carry, run if say. No stop." He took the lead, stepping back onto the narrow path. The feast was over. The race against the dark, and the things that hunted within it, had begun again. The scent of blood and smoke clung to them, a trail any predator would follow. Link pushed forward, his senses straining, Zelda a reassuring presence just behind his shoulder, the tribe's survival a heavy, vital burden on his back.
The heavy slabs of hippo meat bounced against Link's shoulder with each stride, slick with blood that dripped onto the jungle floor, leaving a smeared trail through the ferns. Zelda moved like a shadow beside him, her obsidian knife a dark sliver in her hand, eyes constantly scanning the shifting green gloom. Krell brought up the rear, his steps silent, turning often to watch the path behind, while Gark, Gor, and Varn stumbled slightly under their loads, their nervous glances darting into the thick undergrowth.
Sunlight faded, swallowed by the dense canopy overhead, turning the path into a tunnel of murky greens and deep blacks. The air grew thick with the cloying scent of decaying leaves, damp earth, and the ever-present metallic tang of their burden. A low, guttural growl vibrated through the humid air, seeming to come from everywhere and nowhere at once. Gor whimpered, nearly dropping his meat.
"Quiet!" Zelda hissed, stopping abruptly, her head cocked. "Big cat close. Smells feast." Her knuckles were white on her knife handle. Link lowered his burden slowly, the wet meat hitting the ground with a soft thud. He raised his heavy stone club, the one that had shattered the hippo skull, his muscles coiling. "Circle!" he grunted. "Backs together! Meat inside!"
They scrambled, pressing close, forming a ragged circle around the piled meat, spears and clubs pointing outwards into the deepening twilight. The jungle seemed to hold its breath. Only the frantic thumping of Gark's heart, audible in the sudden silence, and the incessant drone of insects broke the quiet. Then, a dry leaf crunched sharply to their left.
Two shapes materialized from the gloom like living smoke, molten gold eyes fixed on the meat pile. Saber-toothed tigers, massive shoulders rippling, their powerful haunches tensed. Spotted hides blended perfectly with the dappled shadow. One, the larger male, let out a coughing snarl that echoed off the trees, saliva dripping from terrifyingly long fangs. Varn yelped, his spear trembling.
"Hold!" Link roared, stepping slightly forward, placing himself directly between the tigers and Zelda. The lead cat didn't hesitate. It launched, a blur of muscle and striped fur, aiming straight for the exposed meat pile – and the smaller hunters behind it. Time fractured. Link met the charge, swinging his club in a whistling arc. It connected solidly with the beast's shoulder bone with a sickening crack.
The tiger roared in pain and fury, its trajectory altered, crashing heavily into Gark and Varn instead. They went down in a tangle of limbs, shrieking, the tiger snapping viciously above them. Gor froze, spear useless in his shaking hands. The second tiger, the female, saw an opening and sprang towards Link's momentarily exposed side, jaws wide enough to crush his skull.
"Link!" Zelda screamed. Not in fear, but in furious command. She didn't throw her knife. Instead, she snatched a smoldering branch Krell must have carried from their doused fire, thrusting the glowing end directly into the leaping tigress's face. Sparks flew. The cat shrieked, a sound of pure agony, recoiling blindly, batting at its scorched eyes and nose with massive paws. Its charge dissolved into a spasm of pain.
Link, recovering from his swing, saw the first tiger trying to right itself amidst the struggling Gark and Varn. He lunged, not with the club this time, but stomping down with his full, immense weight onto the beast's spine. Another sickening crunch echoed in the clearing. The tiger went limp beneath him, a final rasping breath escaping its lungs. Krell was there instantly, his flint knife finding the male tiger's throat in a swift, silent motion, ending its suffering.
The female, momentarily blinded and panicked, thrashed wildly, crashing into bushes. Zelda faced it, the firebrand held high like a tiny, defiant sun. "Back!" she commanded, her voice cutting through the chaos. "Go! Meat not yours!" She advanced a step, the embers glowing fiercely. The injured tigress hesitated, snarling, smoke rising faintly from its fur. It took one last, baleful look at the meat pile, at the downed male, and at the fierce, fire-wielding woman, then turned and vanished into the jungle shadows, its pained cries fading rapidly.
Silence rushed back in, heavy and stunned. Gark and Varn crawled out from under the dead male tiger, pale and shaking, covered in dirt and gore. Gor finally lowered his spear, his mouth hanging open. Krell wiped his blade clean on moss, his expression unreadable. Link stood over the massive carcass he’d half-crushed, panting, sweat and tiger blood streaking his chest.
"Teeth gone," Link stated, nudging the dead tiger with his foot. He looked at Zelda, the fierce protectiveness in his eyes now mixed with awe. "Zelda fire good. Zelda smart." He pointed at the firebrand, now just a charred stick. "Save Link."
Zelda dropped the spent branch, breathing hard. She offered Link a tired, triumphant smile, the primal fire still lingering in her gaze. "Big cat not expect fire stick," she said, a hint of her earlier light-heartedness returning despite the adrenaline. "Like surprise happy juice splash! Only hotter." She walked over to the fallen tiger, placing a hand almost respectfully on its massive, striped flank. "Strong hunter. But not strong enough."
"Sun almost gone," Krell observed flatly, looking up at the sliver of darkening sky visible through the trees. "More things come for smell." He gestured at the two enormous carcasses – the hippo chunks and now the massive tiger.
Link nodded, the urgency flooding back. He looked at Gark, Gor, and Varn, who were slowly getting to their feet. "Hear? More hungry things. We carry all meat now. Tiger meat good too! Strong meat! Make tribe fierce!" He hefted the huge hippo slab again. "Gark, Gor, Varn – tie tiger legs. Use vines. Krell, find strong poles. Zelda, watch dark." He grinned, a fierce, blood-streaked expression. "Big feast tonight! Link crush swimmer, crush teeth! Tribe eat like kings!"
The younger hunters, shaken but bolstered by survival and Link's commanding presence, scrambled to obey. They worked quickly with Krell, finding thick vines and sturdy saplings to lash the tiger carcasses for carrying. The limp forms were immense, far heavier than the butchered hippo sections. Link watched them, nodding approval. "Good. Learn fast. Make Link proud." Zelda stood vigilant at the edge of the clearing, peering into the now almost complete darkness, every sense alert. The distant, haunting bellow of a hippo echoed again, a reminder of the dangers behind them and the predators undoubtedly drawn to the fresh kill site ahead.
Soon, the grunting tribe was moving again, burdened impossibly heavily. Link led, the hippo meat on one shoulder, a long pole bearing the male tiger's front legs slung over the other, its massive head lolling near his hip. Krell carried the rear legs of the same tiger and more hippo meat. Gark, Gor, and Varn, working together, struggled under the weight of the slightly smaller female tiger lashed to two poles. Zelda walked beside Link, knife ready, guiding them on the darkest path towards home. The scent of blood was overwhelming now—hippo blood, tiger blood, their own sweat. But beneath it, carried on the cooler night air finally whispering through the trees, was the faint, impossible, but deeply yearned-for scent of woodsmoke. Home. Fires. Safety. And a feast unlike any other. They pushed forward, step after heavy step, the jungle pressing close but the promise of warmth and tribe pulling them on.