We're Losing- HermitCraft AU

7: oh no

'What the fu-' Tango fell before he could finish his sentence, he was paralysed with fear. His eyes are wide open. Etho's knees felt weak and his hands were numb. His emotions were wild, and yet he tried to stand still. Moving too much will make him panic and fall. Then both himself and Tango would be an easy target.

Tango had hit his head- he was now out cold, completely unconscious and vulnerable to any attacks. A small trickle of blood was falling off the tip of his nose. His hands held onto the ground firmly, he had tried to soften the blow to his skull, instead, he was bleeding from both his nose and hands. Tango was like an obstacle that Etho had to tackle. He was in the way.

The blur was quick yet clumsy. It was inconsistent; its direction kept fluctuating between left, right and straight forward. A glint of an enchanted netherite sword caused Etho to become even more defensive. Suddenly, a somewhat battered shield appeared to protect his unguarded torso.

Clink

He had put the shield up it time. The purple-ish sword came as quick as lightning, hitting the wood with a concerning amount of power. Etho looked up to look at the persons face. 'Grian!' His voice breaking severely.

Grian's wheat coloured hair looked messy and wild. His face was flushed red -probably caused by adrenaline. The facial expression he wore looked empty and tired. The paleness of his skin clashed with his muddy crimson sweater. How long had he been looking like this? Why did he look like this?

Etho did not know of Grian's PVP ability. He was at a great disadvantage. With both himself and Tango at risk of being hurt, Etho had to think quick.

Fight
Or
Flight

He took a few seconds deciding whether he should run or not. Neither choices seemed to be the greatest but he had to choose. He had to choose right now.

So he bolted for it.

His rockets where not where he could reach them so flying was not an option he could pick. It most likely wouldn't even be useful as Grian was an excellent flyer. He would be caught in seconds even if he tried.

The direction he ran towards was dark and cold. No torches were there to give of any heat of light. The smell of rotten flesh was apparent and the rattling of broken bones was everywhere. Gentle hisses grew closer as Etho stumbled slightly to reach his communicator in his messy and full inventory. If he could just reach it and send out his coordinates then maybe he could get away. Maybe he could get away with Tango!

Rattling through his pockets he searched desperately for his com. His mind not even half focused on getting away some-what unharmed.

His breathing quickened. He was reckless in his rushed movements. He searched his pockets inside his warm coat. Something slightly cold touched his left hand. His communicator!

He ripped it out from his pocket. His eyes lit up with hope. He typed in his co-ord clumsily. He wasn't watching where he was going and his finger dashed towards the sent button.

The communicator flew out of his hands as he well into the 10 block deep whole. His comm was just out of reach. The hopeful joy in his face was replaced by distress.

"NO!" Etho was so close to sending out the message. His cry for help was saved into draft as Grian approached his face the same only less red. Grian handed grabbed a lantern from his inventory. "I'm sorry," he spoke, his blond locks of hair illuminated in the warm light of the simple light source he held in his hands. He still seemed like he did not care, he seemed more tired though.

What was going on? Why was he apologising?

Sorry for the shorter chapter lol

(This hasn't been edited yet)