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Warriors blinked slowly, sitting up to stretch. The sun was just beginning to peak over the horizon, painting the forest in orange and pink hues. Sky, on third watch for the night, was half awake at the campfire.
He stood, folding up his bedroll neatly before heading over to the Skyloftian. "I'm up," he stated. "I can keep watch if you want to go back to bed."
Sky nodded gratefully, smiling at the captain as he unwrapped himself from his sailcloth, stumbling into his bedroll. He was out within seconds.
Warriors rolled his shoulders, setting another log on the fire before grabbing his training sword. He loved to run drills early in the morning, and would do so any chance he got. It was best to keep his skills sharp, especially when danger could be lurking around every corner.
He practiced his moves, jabbing, slicing, and stabbing with his practice sword until his muscles were sore from overuse, and then continued for another 30 minutes. You can't pause a battle because of a little muscle ache, after all.
By the time he had finished running his drills, the whole camp was up and moving (except for Sky, but third watchers often slept in after their shift). The faint smell of crepes wafted through the forest, sweet honey gently pulling him in.
Wild glanced up at him, waving. "Hey, Wars," he greeted, plating up a crepe and drizzling honey over it before placing a couple wildberries on top. "What kind of crepe do you want?"
"Chef's choice," Warriors replied, waving a hand. "I'll eat whatever you give me."
Wild nodded, then shrugged. "Take this, then." He offered the plate to Warriors. "It was supposed to be Hyrule's, but he wandered off."
"Ah…" Warriors shook his head. "No, no, I won't eat his breakfast."
"I'll make him another," the Champion replied, shrugging. "Take it."
Warriors hesitated. He smiled, accepting the plate with a short nod. "Thanks, Wild."
"No problem. Enjoy!"
By the next morning, the Chain had made their way to a small village inn, and just in time, too— a heavy storm hit that night, aggressive thunder and lightning enough to startle any unlucky camper awake. But instead of being out in the storm, the boys were all safe and sound in bed, protected by a sturdy roof and the comfort of a safe village.
But when dawn rolled around, Warriors snuck out with his training sword to run drills in the cold rain. He did the same as he would any morning, practicing and refining his form until he was soaked and shivering. By the time he made it inside, the rest of his brothers were still asleep, and it was easy to change clothes and sit in the common space while he waited for them to wake up.
Time was the first to join him that morning, both men sitting quietly in each other's company. After that, it didn't take long for the rest of their brothers to join them, all excited for the prospect of a rest day.
…All of them except Warriors. The captain was restless being cooped up inside, and despite the storm, he snuck back out in order to run more drills, ignoring his sore, aching muscles.
He stayed out there, this time, running through the same moves as if on autopilot. He didn't stop when he began to sniffle, nor did he stop when his nose began to run. He kept practicing as if his life depended on it.
"Captain."
Time's disapproving voice made Warriors jump, turning to face him with wide eyes. The eldest hero crossed his arms, raising an eyebrow.
Warriors stood up straight, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. "Old Man… what are you doing out here?"
"I could ask you the same thing." His tone was sharp, and Warriors winced. "Get inside. You'll catch a cold."
The captain sighed. "No I won't," he argued. He sneezed loudly. Time's gaze hardened. Warriors slumped, defeated. "…Okay." He followed Time back inside, sniffing every few seconds.
Time handed him a tissue. "Blow your nose," he instructed, expression unimpressed.
Warriors took it, blowing his nose. "You know… your glare hasn't changed since you were a kid," he commented, grinning lazily. Time's lips flattened. "Yeah, that's the one. Reminds me of the war."
"You know what reminds me of the war?" Time asked. "You, overworking yourself." He placed a firm hand on Warriors' shoulder, steering him toward the beds.
The captain scoffed. "I was just running drills," he defended.
Time kept pushing him toward bed. "Captains need to be prepared," he said, expression unreadable.
Warriors nodded proudly. "Exactly. That's why I need to-"
"A sick captain is no good to his team," Time finished, narrowing his eye. He sighed. "Get some rest. And no more overworking yourself— especially in this weather."
Warriors got into bed with a soft sigh. "Fine," he relented, shaking his head. He got under the covers, shoulders slumping. "Goodnight, Sprite."
Time's expression softened. "Goodnight, Captain."