Warnings: PG - one disturbing image.
Theme: The Hanged Man
Tetra's world is one of oceans; endless, stretching hands of sallow blue that swallow the world, bottom to sky, where even the clouds mingle with tides when the sun is high. She can't imagine this Hyrule, with its dust and its green and its heavenly firmament as anything more than fiction, the empty movement of whispers and the hope of people too small to bridge the great divide. Her world is too tremulous, too fractious for the rigidity of ground, the structure of forests and mountains and sky; she'd rather the boundless feel of a world in motion, spread out heavy and lifeless and unsure beneath her, like the sudden weight of the hanged man.
She built her dreams pitch to sails and stood steady as the mast - but love is the tar that held it together, and love of the world is what tore it apart. And goddess knows she'd like to levy blame where blame is meant to be but -
A ship without wind is dead on the water; it is better, she feels, to let it sink.