Fairspell Meadow crowns sit heavy on the hearts of heroes

He had never seen snow before. It was not in his recent memory, so even the soft dusting on it now was a marvel to him. He trudged in it carefully, admiring every soft crunch his paws made in the larger mounds. 

Ganon had been wandering into the Flatlands ever since Potema had given birth. Even though it was cold, his fur was thick from his Northern heritage, his mantle swelling into a thick ring of flame hovering over his neck. He had grown broad and strong, though still not larger than his brother. He had contented himself with that, confident in his own abilities that superceded mere size. 

He was wandering for many reasons. To get away. To see the lands around him. To stretch his legs. To think. His mother had given birth to monsters and nearly killed them. He, upon seeing them, believed that she should have. But she had chased him out before he had gotten so much as a glance of their twisted bodies. Vaati had insisted they live. What infatuation he once had for his brother faded into obscurity then when he realized what a complete and utter fool he was. Why would he waste his time on such a man, attractive as he was? Bringing captives into the Woods from nonexistent Gods-know-where, starving an innocent child? He had heard that Vaati had gained his knee facial scar attempting to kill another wolf from some neighboring pack. 

He sensed that it was his time to move on. He no longer belonged in Blackfeather Woods. He hadn't since he renounced their deities. It was only a matter of time. Mother would be all the better for it, losing one of her wayward sons. 

The tall grasses that surrounds him blocks his peripherals, and he nearly runs into the coy wolf. He snorts in surprise, a sheepish, but amused smile briefly flashing along his face. Didn't see you there, He doesn't recognize the young man, taking a step back as he would to any other stranger.