Dsmp/ SBI one-shots [DISCONTINUED]

Big Brother Wilbur (2)

He peeked over the edge, a jolt of surprise shooting through him, before he slithered down himself.

On the floor was a child, a boy who looked to be no older than eight.
He sat on the dirty forest-floor, clutching his
foot while his face twisted in pain.

Long dirty blond hair fell over his eyes, a small ponytail messily tying some of it back.
His clothes were ragged and dirty; the shorts had been ripped and torn at the end, while his shirt was nearly falling apart at the seams, with multiple large holes decorating its front.

A few feet further, his bag of groceries lay empty, all the items spilled out onto the floor.

Wilbur half-slithered, half-fell down the slope, confused as to what such a small kid was doing out here.
The aforementioned boy looked up in surprise when he noticed him, before his expression quickly shifted into one of annoyance.

"Hey, you-" Wilbur gasped out as he clutched his side. He bent forward, one hand resting on his knee while he heaved in deep gulps of air, "You're-"

He was caught by surprise as the blonde kid suddenly interrupted him, "What the hell is your fucking problem, prick?!"
Wilbur blinked at him a few times, his mouth hanging open in shock before he quickly shut it with a clack.

Did an eight-year-old just curse at him?

"W-what? My problem?"

The kid nodded his head, scowling, "You chased me down the forest while yelling like a banshee and pushed me down a fucking hill," He lifted one hand away from his foot, making a circle motion next to his head, "Are you fuckin' mental?"

Wilbur gaped at him, confusion growing with every passing second. "Wha- You stole from me!" He pointed accusingly at the sad grocery bag laying in the sand.

The thief snorted, unimpressed, "So you tried to fucking kill me, dickhead?!" He scowled at Wilbur, pointedly turning his head with a huff.

Wilbur stared at him, struggling to grasp what this kid was on about, "Kill you? How would I even- It's a stick. A stick hit you,"

"Yeah, could have fallen and broke me neck, or some shit," The boy rolled his eyes at him, making a slight 'tsk' sound, as if it should have been obvious.

"No you wouldn't, it's such a short-" Wilbur sighed in irritation before interrupting himself, "Why am I even arguing about this with you? You stole from me first, I just want my stuff back,"

Wilbur crossed his arms as the young boy pulled up his shoulders, "Yeah, well, how was I supposed to know it's yours? It was just layin' out on the floor, could have been anyone's,"

Wilbur sucked in a deep breath, rubbing his temple, "I was the only person around, and I literally yelled at you to stop, you're -"

The kid obviously wasn't listening to him, so he just stopped and took a few deep breaths. Calm down, it's just a child. An annoying, prick of a child.

"Why are you even out here? Where are your parents?" He gestured to the area surrounding them. Usually, it's not very common to see an eight-year-old alone out in the woods, "Hold on, how old are you even?"

The child glanced away before looking back at him again, "Wouldn't you like to know, bitch-boy," He grinned, moving his legs to lean backwards a bit.

He abruptly stopped and winced before quickly trying to cover it up. His hands shot out to grip his foot, tightly holding on to it.

Deciding to ignore the last comment for the sake of his own mental health, Wilbur instead indicated his head questioningly to the kid's foot, "Are you hurt?"