x. Salt ~ Legend of Zelda 50 Words

I'm walking alone in the forest. More than once I've licked my lips, tasting salt drying on my skin, the sweltering heat ballooning all around--enough to drive me out of the prim house, away from body heat and stoves. The forest is dappled with shade, so it's better...at least.
       Rissia's followed me. Between her hiccupping sobs, I can hear her padding along behind in leather moccasins that her grandfather made, crunching on sticks and leaves when they're in her path and being generally obvious. But if she didn't want me to know that she was behind me, I reason, she wouldn't be bawling like she is. Just walking and crying and pretending like she doesn't know I'm up here.
       Pregnant people. I shake my head. She's never cried like this before--and the strangest part is, both Link and Zelda are completely immune. Both of them impassive, both watching her and nodding and talking to her as if she's not sobbing her eyes out while describing how her morning went. They're not trying to comfort her, or stroking her hair, or getting her to laugh: just acting like it's normal, like completely dispassionate people.
       It's as if she's a spilled spice on their plate--like they've seen quite enough crying people, thank you, and they don't feel like tasting any more in their meal. But they have to taste it, or else not even eat the meal--and where would that leave us?
       Rissia came up with that analogy, ironically enough. She once said that they've had too many spices, burned their tongues on depression and hopelessness and all the emotions of the Hero's journey that make life here seem so mundane. She understood both of them--but now they just can't make her tears matter, now that so much of their own sadness has ceased to be important in their minds.
       So I slow my pace, lick the salt from my lips, and wait for her.