Outside the Gerudo Valley
Clouds of rolling exotic scents rolled around the confines of the tent, ranging from the sharp and bitter that would leave a tongue curling, to the sweetest aromas to calm an angry soul. They were scattered through the air like clouds, coming only into view when they passed the flickering golden flames that served as the slightest of light sources. It was a concoction of only the Gerudo, and a scent that could be smelled weakly from their clothes or skin, but that stung the noses of any who stepped foot into a tent or fortress. Sensitive noses would twitch, until they fell into the almost ambrosial qualities of its presence; yet it was a recipe that would be shared with even fewer than could experience it, they who were very lucky individuals indeed.
The tent's confines were not, in fact, in the golden sands of Gerudo Valley; this one in particular sat just outside, as part of a traveling troupe that would search for a larger one to join. Most who occupied the dimly-lit silk canopy were performers of the Gerudo, who danced among the clouds of spice and with the flames that licked at their golden dusky skin; the heat seeking to cover that bared by woven silk and cloth. Sitting along the edges of the tent, far from the chilling winds that blew through the open middle, were those that played traditional carved instruments to compliment the dance; the tune was pulsing and filled with life, but reminiscent of a warrior fighting in desperation instead of pure joy. It was a farewell to the Gerudo Valley, but held promise of new plains and, one day, a return.
Sitting in a break between the musicians, a figure sat with her heavy cloak serving as a cushion and the firelight only enlightening half of her visage; one part untouched with its void of color, and the other half shimmering like a pearl. Her amber eyes were cast not at the dancers, ears at the musicians, or nose at the soothing incense. They rested on a thin tome that sat in her lap, its cover made from silk as opposed to leather or hardened paper, and gifted to her by the leader of this now-traveling group. The tip of the woman's finger traced the written words along with her eyes, following the mixture of tale and pure history and absorbing the knowledge within; it would serve better than solely Rupees, which could now be used to feed the performers instead of filling her belly like so many waterskins.
Though her reading went impeded by the arrival of another odd occupant of the tent, whose wobbly legs carried her across the sands until she could but grasp the woman's legs, grunting and flicking her beautiful wings to give just the boost to flip over the woman's thigh. She slipped down a single page, wild ivory locks falling behind her and covering the text, while her wings folded together to avoid the impact. They stared at each other for a few moments, expecting the other to say a word, but none came in their personal awkward silence. One whose reading had been interrupted, and the other whose attempts at recovery had only served to dull her mind more.
Eventually, it was broken by a sneeze from the tiny woman and punctuated by rubbing her very pink nose. "...I don't like this incense." She sniffled, shaking her head in an attempt to throw off invisible insects. "It makes me woozy and sneezy...and I can see so many colors, Mirror. I can see all of the colors; can you?" She asked, waving her fingers in front of her opalescent amethyst eyes in an attempt to ruffle the air like water. They stared at each other for a few moments longer, while Mirror thought about what was causing this reaction in her diminutive companion and ignored what she was actually saying, for the most part. "I heard that, after Gerudo mate, they eat the males and save the hearts for cold nights. That's why there aren't any males around; because they're all eaten or about to be eaten. A bit like cows."
Mirror let a sigh escape from her plump lips, as she dragged the fairy up by the back of her raggedy dress to a more proper sitting position atop the book, which she closed with a soft snap. "Gerudo don't eat people, Thorn" She stated without further explanation, her eyes focusing briefly on the scrap of Gerudo silk that hung from the back of Thorn's dress and woven into the rest of the material far more elegantly than how it had been ripped off in the first place. "But if they did, I would have been offered a rib or a flank for helping them map out their route. I think you're suffering from the effects of the incense because of your tiny body; they don't see many fairies here and probably didn't expect you to get all..." She clucked her tongue. "Dizzy. It'll be dispersed by morning, judging by the amount of it left to burn."
Thorn stared vacantly for a few moments longer before she rolled onto her back and began to pluck grains of sand from her feet. "I heard this story once. That people could gain power by eating people, and there was this guy that got his head cut off, but he was magical, so it kept on living, and if you find it, you can cut off your own head and put it on. Then, you'll get all of his magical power." She paused for a few moments and blew air from between her lips, settling on rubbing her feet against the cover of the book to push off the sand instead. Mirror's lips thinned considerably. "And I know this because I traveled with him; and I had to protect his head for a bit and I fought off all of the guys with my ceremonial whoopass stick. Whu-pah! Hee-ya! Fynoyoronumun...un..." She mimicked lazily, though her eyes couldn't stop blinking. "If you could be a Goddess...what would you be the Goddess of?"
"Ideas." Mirror answered, as she tucked the book into her crumpled cloak and steadily climbed back to her feet, scooping Thorn up in her palm and glancing towards the exit. "Because then I could stop people from having them, or give them new, necessary ideas. Or ideas to make things beautiful." She went on, carrying Thorn to the exit and standing just outside the flap of material. Outside, the air was clear and the last amber rays of sunshine were stretching out across the horizon. Hopefully, it would help clear her friend's mind a little sooner than morning, and she could find a mask to stop the flow of spices to the fairy's sinuses. "And, if I wanted to, I could use it to help other Gods create a better world, because they can still make mistakes."
Thorn seemed a little less delirious from the few seconds out in the cool desert air, and a little happier with the removal of sand granules from her feet by small doses of Mirror's waterskin, as they were more like big stones to her and excessively painful. "...when are we leaving this place, Mirror?" She asked, after a few moments, while Mirror used a kerchief to dry the fairy's skin.
"Tomorrow morning." The Twili promised.