Grian angst

Healing feathers part 3 - Cold and Numb

Healing feathers part 3 - cold and numb

This is set in late November. Just so ya know :)

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It's been about a week or so since grian had a lecture from bdubs. Honestly he's been feeling quite well, his anxiety and fear at ease. Scar is doing fantastic too, he's moving almost perfectly. Well, he was moving perfectly, but there's been an decrease in propper activity recently. Why? Well it's time. Time for the second potion.

Grian stared down his enderchest. He was informed on the recent downgrade in scars behavior and concluded scar needed his next potion. Yet now that Scar's conscious and aware, this will be quite difficult.

Someone from another point of view might even say grian was having a staring contest with the chest. Yet unfortunately for him, chests can't blink. It's an inedible loss.

Which is actually a great way to describe his feelings at the moment. A battle he's unable to win.

The hermits who are supporting Scar right now probably already brought Sacr to the shopping district to wait. They agreed to meet up there around this time. But grian hasn't opened his ender chest nor talked to scar in all this time. Now that he thinks of it he really hasn't talked to many people.

Maybe he wasn't feeling all better?

He's only talked to doc, bdubs, and mumbo a bit after the incident. He's been oblivious to anything else going on. Trapped in his world of charades.

"They are waiting."

He said aloud trying to find any bit of power in him to open that chest. His hands shook. Memory's replaying over and over.

His senses were overwhelmed with agony.

"I need to go."

The phrase left His mouth again with a different format of words. His nails digged slightly into his skin as he fisted his hands. Sweat running down his forehead as he squeezed his eyes shut.

"I'm not a baby,"

he said, finally reaching for the ice cold chest.

"I'll face my mistakes head on."

He muttered, Lifting up the bottle in his hands. His eyes threatened to spill tears of fear, yet he ignored it.

"There's no use tearing now, what Is done is done."

His voice sounded confident yet small. Like how a forced smile will never be as effective as a real one. His wings spread far looking up. He walked slowly and sincerely through his mansion. Reaching the door of the mansion-seemingly-castle, he paused.

"I shouldn't fly. I should prepare."

He knew he wouldn't be able to fly once this was all over. He figured he's done with excuses and he'll get used to walking. It was a cold yet sunny day, the clouds nowhere in sight. A clear crystal blue ball shining down on his Stepping feet. It was sad to say the sky was clearer than his clouded heart. It was a long walk, it would've been smarter to use the nether to travel. Can you really blame him though, it was just an on the spot idea. Yet winter was approaching, the air was cold and thin. By the time he had reached the shopping district, his skin was pale and his lips tinted blue. He acted strong, like this didn't even bother him, yet it did. It hurts like a million anvils falling on you at once.

His skin was burning from the cold, he longed for warmth but refused to express it. He saw a few hermits in the middle of the shopping district, covered in warm attire. It was pearl and iskall. At some point of his walk the air must have gotten so cold it decided to snow. With a thin layer on the floor, the flakes of cold snow began to Shiver down more noticeably.