We are in some dry land// We can find some desert hideout//
Spring is the best time of year to see the desert. In the spring there are short, fierce thunderstorms that prompt what dwarfish plants there are to flower in the full spectrum of colors. It is only at this time of year that there are colors in the desert other than brown... and more brown
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But that would be quite a shameful bout of stupidity, as far as Sheik is concerned, and the song dies away on a breath of wind as he looks over to Ganondorf, yet some distance. He has to wonder what has brought the king here, but he thinks better than to ask. Whatever it was, it likely isn't a subject for discussion, yet he finds it ironic that the first person he finds on his return is the one before him. Perhaps he shouldn't have. In the beginning (not of everything, but of everything that had mattered) there was Ganondorf, and it always returned back to him, magnetized.
Not quite the Haunted Wasteland, at least, but travels fuelled by curiosity and restlessness have brought him here, lead their paths to cross once more. Sheik can't recall if he believes in coincidence any more, or if he ever really did - it's one of those little things that slipped away, like a myriad of others.
He swings out of the saddle, courtesy if naught else, and keeps the reins in one hand as he bows, not yet folding to kneel.
"Even the ghosts in this world are few and far between," he says in greeting, gazing out over the desert.
((Welcome baaaaaaack /o/ orz hope it's okay for me to jump on you))
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