Haunted Wood whistlin' past the graveyard

He poked her cheek, once again dashing any hopes of sleep she might have had. Blinking slowly, her ears flicked back, the volume of his voice (though not truly that loud) jarring. His question had her own brow furrow; she didn't know exactly why she was here, or where here was, exactly. She'd simply walked, moved, sought something to feel. "so tired"  The girl mumbled, both an answer and a statement. Dimly wondering who Elwood was, she continued, "they hate me." The jumble of thoughts that had been heavy on her mind rose to its forefront, and suddenly she felt the urge to tell the boy who vexed her so.

She muttered softly, incoherently, something about pups. Thinking of the spineless one, of Maegi and her spotted brother; the woman that was their mother by blood; high on poppy. The raving man, the spotted skeleton. They were a dying lot, blackfeather, so hated and feared and broken. And yet there existed Ganondorf, and the twins, who scared her with their hate and their power. How foolish she'd been in thinking she'd left behind her fear when she'd joined them.