Silent darkness.
The rustle of fabric.
A presence, ink and blood, ebony and bone. Then—
"Wake up, Tommy."
❖✩✩✩❖
He opened his eyes to light.
Tommy grunted, blinking tiredly. Morning light filtered through the trees, making the dew-covered podzol sparkle. Tommy's side was soaked, cold seeping through his jacket from the damp earth.
That's what I get for sleeping out in the open, Tommy thought glumly. He sat up, running a hand through his hair and scanning his surroundings. Bloodhound was lying under the shade of a spruce tree nearby, gnawing on a bone. Rotten flesh and similar carnage was scattered around the clearing, evidence of monsters that had perished during the night.
"Good boy," Tommy murmured. He stared at the wolf a moment longer, then shook his head and stood, wincing as his joints groaned, stiff and sore. "Screw the admins, I'm going to craft a bed. Surely they wouldn't get too upset at that, right?"
Bloodhound looked up from his bone, licking his lips.
"Yeah. Besides, I can just keep it in my inventory when I'm not using it." Tommy stretched. "I guess I can keep a few things in there. Except. . . they'll probably kill me again at some point, and then they'll discover it anyway."
Tommy frowned, scrunching his nose. ". . .Plus they're admins, and can see into my inventory. Maybe a hidden chest?"
Bloodhound huffed, then perked his ears and looked abruptly to the side. After a moment of staring at nothing, he growled quietly and stood up, trotting off into the forest.
What the Notch? Tommy squinted at the place Bloodhound had been looking at, and when nothing appeared, he shifted, ears stood straight up.
There. The sound of twigs snapping, and a quiet voice muttering something in annoyance. Someone broke a berry bush, and then there were footsteps approaching the clearing.
Fuck. Tommy quickly ducked behind a tree, crouching so his nametag wouldn't be seen. His heart was in his throat, and he flexed his fingers, defenseless except for his claws. Xisuma wasn't going to check in for another week, and he said the others wouldn't bother me— did they change their mind?
Crack. Crack. Whoever it was wasn't being stealthy about their advancement, sticks breaking continuously and fallen leaves crunching under their armored footsteps. Tommy shifted anxiously from foot to foot, trying to decide if he should run or attack.
". . .ld be around here somewhere. . . oh! Thanks for the dono, Zeeno Ash. . . where is he?"
Tango? Tommy hesitated, then straightened and stepped out from behind the tree, crossing his arms. "Hello."
Tango jumped. "Oh! Tommy, you scared me! Where did you come from?"
"What are you doing here?" Tommy said bluntly, scowling. "It's barely been a day, I don't even have anything yet."
"Right, I would have left you alone— I know you need your space and all, I just—" Tango sighed. "Chat was screaming for me to go visit you. They wouldn't stop spamming 'tiny hats' all the way here, I don't know what they're on about—"
Tommy flushed. "Fuck. Chat, I didn't mean immediately! Give me a week at least, I can't make you all hats that quickly!"
Tango laughed a little in surprise. "You're making them hats? You know they're made of fire, right?"
YOU ARE READING
In Hindsight
FanfictionHacking onto Hermitcraft really isn't a good idea. Especially when you quickly realize your mistake and try to leave but can't because the hermits are just so damn determined to heal those hurts you've been holding onto for a long time. Sorry Tommy...