He fingered his rifle's lock, as though he were itching to give it a few experimental rounds at his makeshift firing range behind the barracks. Although, the night was dark...

"I can make the walk home myself," he answered -- gruff not with disagreement but with an awkward sentimentality. Something approaching gratitude, and something which he didn't particularly want to share even with Ganondorf. Not until he'd sorted out his feelings for himself. Not until this humming in his bones had calmed down or else he'd grown to accept it.