Whitewater Gorge Like a cry at the final breath that is drawn

As he walked closer to the edge of the gorge, he found himself increasingly disappointed as his gaze scoured the cliffsides. He trampled over many of them, but none of the stones that he saw had the properties that he desired. He grunted with annoyance, feeling the blackness take over him once more. Perhaps somewhere else. Perhaps later. He turned around.

Of all of Potema's children, Ganon had been the only one who had not met his father. There were a few reasons why — his mother liked the Twins' and Vaati's fathers better, she knew them better really. Yet Ganon was left fatherless, the name and identity of his pater lost to Potema's addled (or lost) mind. 

Hey, Ganon did not have a spark of recognition when he looked at the stranger that had — apparently — been behind him.. His trademark flame-coating came from his paternal grandmother, and such traits were not distinct in the male before him; the fur was too dull, the only brightness a different hue than Ganon's. So he greeted the man like any other stranger, especially one who had snuck up behind him like a stalker.