Birthday | Talon & Link
Waking up early was not in the nature of the ranch owner. Malon had tried to break him of that habit, along with some of his more distasteful ones, and had failed in her attempts. Talon was proud to get one over on her, the little copper head was just as resilient as her mother had been and to win any sort of match with her would have been a feat within itself. So Talon awoke long after high noon and then finally rolled out of bed nearly an hour later, grunting from the aches in his old bones as he did so. He waved his hand lazily and the room filled with light as he stumbled over to the basin of his bathroom. He cleaned himself and took great care to the brushing and preening of his mustache before throwing on his least patched clothes before heading out of his room and down the hall. After all, it was a special day for his charge, and there was no reason to not take advantage of the festivities himself. He pushed the door to Link’s room open without knocking—why would he? It was his house.
“Today’s th’ day, boy—” He grunted as he threw the door open, grinning mischievously from behind his great mustache. The grin faltered fast as he eyed Link scraping up the bleached liquid on his sheets and he narrowed his small eyes at farmhand, bewildered.
“What in th’ name o’ th’ three is that!?”