Lionhearts ||Skephalo||

46

Skeppy leans on Sapnap's shoulder, listening to the other's soft breaths as he sleeps.

After being pushed out of Sapnap's dreams, he hadn't been able to fall back asleep, and instead ended up laying awake next to him for several hours. The sun set fully, and he watched the moon rise.

Normally, he would be hunting or eating dinner, or helping around the village. But it wasn't a normal night, was it...?
The remainder of the month has almost gone by terrifyingly fast. Already, he's been separated from Bad for so long, and he can feel an odd emptiness pervading the silence of the evening. A hollow sensation in the pit of his stomach, in his heart.

Something feels so wrong, as though it's been taken away from him; a single discolored thread in a tapestry, a discordant note in his symphony. He's about to try projecting out to Bad, disregarding Fundy's warnings to be cautious, when an envelope pops into existence with a small sucking sound and a burst of purple light. He catches it, surprised, and checks the date.

The day before yesterday.

"Hi Zak, you stupid, silly boy," the letter opens playfully, "I hope you're okay. Things went pretty wrong here for a day or so, but it's all under control. I kinda got blasted by a spell but I'm alright now. I feel like you might need more help, so me and Dream are going to be leaving tonight to go help you. He says he knows that your friend doesn't like him much, but he's more concerned with Bad's safety; apparently he's a pretty powerful mage's descendant, right? Well if they fuck him up bad enough, he could possibly break the mana flows and like, explode the world or something. I didn't really understand everything he told me, but it was bad, really bad. Hence why we're going to fly our asses over to you!"

Skeppy pauses, considering the letter nervously. Fly? How?
The memory of the two playfully gliding with their grey wings rises up, and he nods slightly. That's right.

He continues reading,

"You see, I'm mostly writing this in case me and Dream crash into a tree. I'm not too optimistic about our flight skills, I won't lie. But if we don't die, we'll meet you at the embassy!

Love, George."

A slight smile graces Skeppy's face.

"Who's the letter from?" A quiet voice breaks the comfortable air that had fallen over Skeppy as he read, and he glances up to see Tubbo standing in the doorway, rubbing the eye that had been afflicted by the bond.

"My friend George," Skeppy answers quietly, "He's coming to help. With Dream."

Tubbo laughs sleepily, and meanders over to sit down next to Skeppy.

"Oh, you've gotta be jokin', right?" He questions, and Skeppy shakes his head with dull amusement.

"No. He's flying over with the prince of the fucking End, who happens to be Sapnap's y'know, sworn enemy and all that shit. But I'll fill him in when it's morning so he doesn't stab me on the spot."

They both glance at Sapnap's sleeping form, his relaxed, vulnerable expression.

"...he looks a lot younger when he's sleeping," Tubbo notes, and Skeppy nods in agreement.

"Why are you up?" He asks, and Tubbo shrugs, rubbing his eye again. He casts around for a moment, as though trying to phrase it properly.

"...there was something," he hesitates, "wrong. Like, I jerked up and felt my whole body feel tingly and bad."

"I woke up feeling sick and hollow," Skeppy notes, unease threading into his tone, "...let's go see if Fundy is awake."

He can't place it, but intuition says to check on the shifter, and he trusts his intuition. Tubbo stands, and Skeppy slips out of Sapnap's hold. They tiptoe down to where the shifter had gone to sleep.