Till Death Do Us Part

Permanent

Eventually, Tommy reached a village that had not heard of the Wild Boy, but still welcomed him with open arms. He didn't know why, but he was never able to leave this village.

Instead he returned day after day, bathing in the smiles and warmth of the people. He traded his hunt for proper clothes and better shoes. He gained trust among the villagers, and the favour of their children.

He sold Pigstep.

The disc was never at any great value to him in the first place. During his travels it only served as a reminder of a home he was never going back to. It was just a piece of plastic burdened with bad memories.

The buyer was overjoyed. Apparently, the disc was a rare item or something. Money was practically poured into his hands, way more than Tommy was ever really going to need, but he thanked the buyer anyway.

He used the money to buy himself a bucket hat.
It was red with a white trimming on the brim, and he held it close as he walked away from the milliners. He didn't really know why he bought it. Probably for the same reason he had a crown on his neck, guitar on his ankle and wings on his upper arm. He'd gotten them on impulse, when an old man offered to ink him and he was feeling particularly nostalgic. They were reminders the of good memories, scarce but existant. Even the bee earring that hung from his left ear made the warm feeling of home a little closer.

Tommy jammed the hat onto his head and tied back his hair with a reed that never seemed to break. He desperately needed a haircut, but that was a problem for future Tommy. Instead, he started heading back towards the forest, except this time with a goal.

Tubbo's compass hummed in response to his glee, needle steadily pointing to a place that he didn't need to call home anymore.

Tommy curled up around the bucket hat that night.

And he slept soundly with a smile on his face.