Link, with a surprised expression, falls into a large net in a lush green forest canopy, with a purple Octorok on a distant cliff.

In freefall, Link grasped at his back to open up his glider, but it slipped out of his fingers and flew away. The wind whipped around him as his velocity increased and he sped toward the ground. Before his wide eyes, the tops of trees grew larger and larger. He curled himself up into a ball to try to reduce the damage when he hit the ground. But as he flew through the canopy of the trees, branches snagging and scratching at his body, he was saved by some unknown force that caught him and broke his fall before he could hit the ground. For a moment, his body rebounded and he flew back into the air. But he quickly fell back down again, into the saving embrace of an enormous, well-crafted and strategically placed net. Through the leaves, above him, Link could just barely make out the form of the Octorok at the top of the cliff, a mere purple dot in the distance. Link was sure glad someone had placed this net in the trees, no matter if they were friendly or otherwise. And he’d accomplished what he had set out to do, to fix his bow, so whatever jam lay before him now, he was free to devote all his energy to it. Link sat up in the net and looked around the forest. Voir plus