Ferondir almost didn't hear the goron's question; he'd been distracted by the petrichor. Just the smell of the air, fresh after days of solid sun. He loved this smell. It reminded him of better times.
"What? Oh. Yeah." He glanced around. That big ball of wood. "It feels like another life." He wasn't a murderer back then. He hadn't killed yet.
So much had happened. Gregel. Cassie. The King. That dem- no... magical sword.
"That night I..." He'd almost killed his best friend. He felt a tear or two fall across his cheek. Unacceptable. He scowled. That was history. Ancient recent history. "Let's go." If he could get away from this campsite, away from the Wind Runner, away from this new, sad Cassie... He looked at her. She seemed like a whole different person. Almost unrecognizable without her wonderful smile.
He had to help her find it again, somehow, but maybe that wasn't his destiny. Zeph was always better at getting her to laugh. He shook his head. For some reason, it made his brain hurt when he thought of Zeph and Cassie. He stocked off a little way into the forest. He felt like punching a tree. Why?
"Help me, Nayru," he said. "I don't know what I feel. I don't know how to help them. I've read every book you've shown to me, but the answer still eludes me."
A thought forced its way into his mind. "Kindness."
"I don't understand."
But nothing else occurred to him.
"Th--Thank you, Nayru."