I spent my first fifty hours in Hyrule acting like a rodeo clown with zero coordination. Every time I spotted a horse grazing in a sun-dappled field, I’d crouch, pray to the goddess Hylia, and tiptoe forward like I was trying to steal a custard tart from a sleeping Hinox. The beast would inevitably twitch an ear, lock eyes with me, and bolt faster than a cucco with its tail on fire. I’d chase it on foot through thistle patches, burn through stamina elixirs, and occasionally get kicked in the teeth for my troubles. Taming wild horses felt like trying to knit a sweater for a squirrel that had just chugged a triple espresso – frantic, hopeless, and humiliating. But that was before I discovered the single most unhinged trick in Tears of the Kingdom: simply freezing the poor animal solid and climbing aboard while it’s still a temporary ice sculpture.
When Nintendo handed Link the Fuse ability, I don’t think they expected players to weaponise it against innocent wildlife. Yet here we are in 2026, still finding gloriously unintended shortcuts. The method is so simple it feels illegal: slap a White ChuChu Jelly (or any freeze-infused item) onto an arrow, aim at your future steed, and let fly. The horse freezes mid-prance, encased in a glittering shell of ice like an equine popsicle. That frozen moment is your golden ticket. You saunter up without a care, no crouching required, and position yourself next to the immobilized creature. A few seconds later, the ice shatters with a satisfying crunch, the horse shakes its mane in confusion, and you vault onto its back before its single brain cell can process what just happened. It’s the equestrian equivalent of slipping a sleeping dragon a melatonin gummy and calling yourself a dragon tamer.
Let’s rewind to why this matters. The map of TOTK is obscenely vast, and hoofing it across the Depths or the Gerudo Highlands is a recipe for carpal tunnel. But the game doesn’t gift you a loyal horse like Epona in Ocarina of Time. You have to earn your mane companionship, and the traditional taming mechanics are reminiscent of trying to negotiate with a toddler in a candy aisle – exhausting and rarely successful on the first try. Even the color of the coat matters. Solid-colored horses with simple patterns are moderately forgiving, but try taming a spotted beauty or, Hylia forbid, Zelda’s Golden Horse, and you’ll be sweating through your Sheikah Slate. That gleaming blonde menace hangs out dangerously close to a Gleeok and demands an olympic-sized stamina pool just to stay mounted. Before the freeze method, I’d burn through an entire garden’s worth of Endura Carrots and still end up face-down in the mud, questioning my life choices.
The freeze arrow changes everything. Not only does it eliminate the need for stealth, but it also neuters every threat in the immediate vicinity. Picture this: you’re in the Tabantha Tundra, a silver-maned stallion trots past, and three Ice-Breath Lizalfos are grumpily patrolling nearby. Normally, you’d have to clear the area, creep up while shivering, and still risk the horse kicking you into the path of a frozen scream. With the freeze trick, you pop an arrow into the horse, jog over while humming a stable tune, and vault on just as the ice dissolves. By the time the Lizalfos notice you, you’re already galloping away, making rude gestures from a safe distance. The technique turns horse taming into a quick chore rather than a sub-quest that drains your potion reserves.
There’s something deeply satisfying about this shortcut because it epitomizes what makes Tears of the Kingdom a masterpiece even now, years after release. The physics system is a playground where creative laziness is rewarded. Why sneak when you can pause time and space with a blob of jelly? The trick is akin to using an ice-cold cream soda to calm a fire-breathing dragon – absurd yet perfectly logical within the game’s own rules. I keep a stash of White ChuChu Jelly in my inventory at all times now, right next to my rocket shields and korok-torturing devices. It’s my emergency equine acquisition kit.
I’ve expanded the method to other frosty materials too. Sapphire arrows create a wider freeze that can snag multiple horses if you’re feeling indecisive, and a Frost Keese eyeball arrow will home in on a distant horse like a heat-seeking missile of cryogenic justice. My favorite flex is casually freezing a horse in front of a Bokoblin patrol, mounting it, and riding off while the pig-faced goons stare in utter bewilderment. They must think I’m some sort of sorcerer-wrangler hybrid, and honestly, I’ve stopped correcting them.
The only downside is that the horse temporarily looks like a frozen statue you’d find in a cursed garden, and you might feel a tiny pang of guilt. But the moment its big, trusting eyes blink back to life and you’re already in the saddle, the guilt evaporates faster than Hylian Rice in a cooking pot. In a world where you fuse mushrooms to swords and launch Koroks into orbit, freezing a horse for ten seconds is practically a humanitarian approach. I now own a stable full of gorgeous wild horses – spotted, solid, even that irritating golden one – all acquired with the same cheap trick Link would probably hesitate to tell Zelda about.
So if you’re still playing this gem in 2026 and haven’t tried the freeze-tame method, do yourself a favor. Stock up on chilly jelly, abandon your pride, and embrace the ice age. Your stamina wheel will thank you, and the wild horses of Hyrule will have no choice but to accept their fate as your glorious, slightly frostbitten road companions.