Epona stopped quick enough, but it was clear she was nervous. She shifted carefully from side to side, whinnying quietly. Link stroked her mane and patted her head, speaking to her in hushed tones, humming a few bars to a familiar, haunting song. "Don't worry," he whispered to the princess, in as calming a tone as he could. "You're doing well. I want you to snap this stick," he handed her a twig with its end coated in what looked like paint, the surface rough and slightly sticky. "And I want you to touch it to the fuse. Then I want you to throw the bomb back behind us, as far as you can. Do you think you can do that?"

He stroked Epona's neck as she nervously swayed: beneath the ground they could hear the rumblings of the worm burrowing through the ground. At some times it seemed almost like it would go away, but then inevitably the worm would return with a vengeance, uncomfortably close, like it sensed their careful breathing or the thumping of their hearts.

"If you don't think you can throw it, I can," he told Peach after a moment. "But I think you can do it. You throw, and we'll ride."