It looked like a gentle mass of furry evergreen branches, rapidly welcoming Link's careening sled, but his terrified mind processed only the hidden trunks. Over and over within the span of a few seconds, he imagined violently striking cold, hard wood, a scratching host of needles the least of his worries, and was almost surprised when the actual impact occurred.

"Link!" Midna yelled, jumping out of his shadow as the sled went its merry way into an unforgiving cliff face. "Are you alright?"

"Urrk," Link said softly. With the arm he could move, he felt the arm he could not and was immediately sorry he had.

"You're going to be fine," Midna said quickly. "Just fine, Link. It looks like you've broken your arm, but that's about all. The fairy you caught can fix that easily—see, there it is now. You're going to be fine."

The dazzling white-pink shape of a fairy popped out of a bottle that had fallen a ways to the left of the tree (miraculously, the bottle hadn't broken) and spun frantically around him, distress written all over its scrunched up little face. Fairies couldn't stand to see others in pain. So much that they instantly forgave you for carting them around in a bottle the minute their beady eyes caught sight of a speck of blood.

"Your ice sled crashed and broke," Midna was saying. "But it's not far to walk from here. I think. Feeling better?"

"Oh no," Link said miserably, not to Midna but to the world at large, as the fairy disappeared. He clutched his arm and grimaced.

"What's wrong?" Midna asked, concerned. "The fairy just—I saw it fly around you! What happened?"

"Stupid fairy," Link moaned. "Why did I trust that thing to think… Oww…"

Midna reached out gently to touch his arm, but he pulled away.

"Link," she said sternly, "tell me what's wrong. I can't help you if I don't know what you need."

"That fairyhealed my arm," Link said darkly, "but it didn't think to line the bones back up first."

Midna's mouth formed a silent 'O.'

Link pulled himself carefully to his feet. The fairy had healed his scratches and bruises, so apart from his arm he was fine. Just fine, except for his arm. He looked around, his expression furrowing in concern. The sun, locked in an indecisive state of "day" for the past few hours, finally put its foot down in favor of "evening." As if eager for the coming night and the temperature drop that came with it, the chill mountain wind whistled possessively over Link's unprotected face, through his thin tunic. Mine.

"I can only see trees and the side of the mountain," he said. "I think it's very far to walk from here."

"Fair enough," Midna said, "giving me a hard time for being encouraging. I'll admit I can be a bit proud sometimes, but I'm not above taking a swipe if it was well-deserved."

"Sorry," Link said, shaking his head. "I didn't mean it like that."

"You don't have to be so worried," Midna said. "You're going to be fine. I can warp you to Castle Town or Karikariko village. We'll have a doctor set your arm, and then we'll heal you up with another fairy and be back here in no time. Let me tell you, Zant had no idea just how much he was helping us when he gave us that little magic rock that turns you into a wolf. Come on, let's go."

"Just a minute," Link said. "My gear went everywhere when I hit the tree. I can't leave it here."

"I'll help you pick it up," Midna said.

In forty minutes, they had found everything but the wallet.

"You sure you can't just leave it?" Midna asked. "You only had six-hundred rupees in there, and you can find rupees everywhere."

"It's not the money I'm worried about losing," Link said. "It's the wallet. It's the only thing I can store rupees in that keeps them from disappearing. Without it, that magic armor I bought is useless." He sighed. "It's really convenient to be able to find money under rocks," he said, "but sometimes I wish we used a currency that was a little more… I dunno, grounded in reality. What's money like where you come from?"

"There aren't that many Twili," Midna said thoughtfully. "Half the time we end up bartering with goods. But the money that we use sticks around. I've heard that the princess has chests and chests of it in the castle."

"Good for her," Link said, pawing through the snow with his good hand.

"Would it be easier to dig if you were a wolf?" Midna asked.

"No," Link said, "I'm fine like this. Ha ha, I wouldn't be able to stand up properly as a wolf."

"You're right," Midna said thoughtfully. "Never mind, then."

The wallet was not in the spot where Link was digging. It was not in the next spot either.

"Link," Midna said, "I don't want to alarm you, but there's a group of ice keese headed your way."

There was indeed. They were easy to spot in the evening shadows, five or six moving swirls of bright, whitish blue.

"I suppose I'm lucky enough not to have broken my sword arm, at least," Link said, drawing the Master Sword. "Found anything?"

"Nope," Midna said. "You take care of yourself. Maybe you can hold a sword, but that doesn't mean—oh dear."

The keese flew stupidly around their frozen target, unsure of what to do next. Their usual prey was smaller and had the tendency of freezing to death, but this big creature seemed to have missed the memo.

"Shoo! Shoo!" Midna barked, waving the keese away with her arms. "Link, hang in there. Their magic is so weak I can barely feel it. You'll be unfrozen in no time. Shoo!"

Link had been blasted in the middle of a swing and was very much off-balance. The minute his feet unstuck from the ground and his body unstiffened, he toppled backwards, blocking his fall instinctively with his injured arm.

"Ahh," he said in a strained voice, sitting up. Then he began to laugh.

"What?" Midna asked.

Still laughing, Link held up his injured arm. He was holding his wallet.

"Wow," Midna said, the corners of her mouth turning up slightly. "That's…that's pretty impressive. Are you okay?"

"If it's possible to be okay and in pain," Link said, "then yeah. I'm ready to go when—"

But he was cut off, his throat freezing still, his mouth filling with ice.

"I told you to shoo!" Midna yelled, batting furiously at the keese. "Leave Link alone! What are you bothering him for anyway? Do you seriously think you can eat him? Can't you see how big he is? Shoo, you little numbskulls!"

"Pun intended?" Link asked, shivering violently.

"What do you mean?" Midna asked.

"N-n-numbskulls," Link said, shivering. "Ice, freezing, cold…numb…you know."

"Oh," Midna said. "No. Ha ha. But that works. You know, you look terrible."

"I don't think the ancient hero whose clothes I'm b-b-borrowing was much of a mountaineer," Link said through chattering teeth. "I didn't notice how cold it was up here at first because I came up here as a w-w-wolf. I'd hate to be stuck up here without that nice, furry coat as an option. Or warping. It's scary how far we are from civilization."

Midna was about to say something when she heard it. Seconds later, Link heard it too.

Footsteps. Crunchschruncschrunchschrunch. Louder and louder.

They turned to see the friendly, white shape of Yeto approaching them in the falling darkness. Link locked eyes with Midna, wordlessly pleading, begging. I know he'll see you if he gets any closer. He'll see me change. But please, let's just warp out of here. I am in pain. Don't leave me with him. Please.

Midna could read his face like a book. But she frowned as if her heart were breaking. She shook her head apologetically, guiltily. She dove into Link's shadow.

"No…" The word was barely a whisper.

"Human!" Yeto boomed, his big face crinkling in concern. "Yeto was worried when you not come! Wife say, 'Human not yeti.' Wife say, 'Human fragile. Maybe human get hurt on mountain all alone.' You alive, uh?"

"Fine," Link said. "Just f-fine. I just stopped to adm-m-mire the v-v-v-v-view; this place is really beautif-f-f-f… urhh. Beautiful. Cold, but beautiful." He sneezed. "You go on ahead. I'll catch up."

"No, come with me," Yeto said. "Silly Yeto, let human slide down here all alone with no warm fur, no protection against cold. I never notice cold, but you do! Lots! Uh, silly Yeto. Come, I carry."

"Nononoo!" Link said. "I can't come right now. I dropped something in the snnnnnn, in the snow, something really important. I'll f-f-follow y—"

The cold breath of an ice keese stopped the words in his throat. Helpless, he could feel strong arms pry him loose from the cold ground, saw the world tilt at crazy angles and finally settle a few feet further below him than it had been before. Fearful, he felt the pressure of the yeti's warm body against his injured arm. The ice kept it rigid for now, but he would be in a lot of pain once that ice was gone…

Yeto would never know if he did not cry out. When he unfroze, he could not cry out. If Yeto found out that his arm was broken, the kind soul would almost certainly try and lend a hand, a blunt hand with stubby fingers, all force and no finesse…

"Aahhhh!" Link gasped half a second later, clutching his arm.

Yeto set him down gently.

"You're hurt, uh," he said with dismay. "Why you not say anything?"

"Because I wanted to have it seen by a doctor down in K-k-kari—kar—karikarik-k-k-k—kar— I wanted to have it seen by a doctor," Link said, a bitter edge creeping into his unsteady voice. "I have a f-f-f-friend with me, a little imp that h-hides in my shadow, who was going to w-w-warp me there, just before you came. She hid because she didn't want you to see us. She has to turn me into a w-w-w-wolf before she can warp me, and she didn't want to scare you. Y-y-y-you know how you saw a wolf b-b-back at the top of the mountain? That was m-me! You said you w-would have taken me home and eaten me if you didn't have a f-f-fish. Alright, M-midna, he knows. Come out now, and let's get going. Th-thanks for your h-h-help, Yeto, but we've g-got this."

"Poor, poor human," Yeto said, his face a picture of outright misery. "Cold and hurt and alone, mind full of crazies. My fault. Uh, my fault for leaving poor fragile little human all alone. Come, human. I take you and "friend" to my house. Sit you down by fire. Make warm soup, uh. Hold still now!"

"Midna," Link said desperately, "please come out! Please?"

She did not come. The wind whipped his face accusingly, whispering betrayal in his ears, as the yeti scooped him up and hugged him close as if he were a baby.

"Yeto," Link said, "I r-really w-was that w-wolf. How could I have known what y-y-you said to the w-w-wolf otherw-w-wise?"

But the yeti only patted his face with a huge, calloused hand and trudged onward into the darkness.