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Wilbur shifted uncomfortably in his bed, throwing the overly heavy blankets off of him. His arm stung from where he had been cut by Techno's rapier earlier that day. Tommy's words still rolled around in his mind, making his stomach churn. His baby brother couldn't possibly hate him, right? He'd done nothing wrong. Tommy still seemed to care for him. He saved him from Techno! That had to mean something!

Wilbur sat up quickly and slid out of bed, changing out of his nightclothes and into something more fitting for a casual stroll. His typical khaki trousers and white tunic which he tucked into the hem of the trousers. He slipped his black boots on and tossed his brown satchel over his shoulder, checking that he had everything he needed before he swiftly threw his window open and climbed out, using the cracks and out of place stones to climb down to the safety of the grass below.

He walked through the gardens quickly, until he reached the defense walls. He had a secret passage that he used to sneak to the town at nights when insomnia crept up on him and choked him until he was too restless and unable to resist the urge to roam. And so he did.

Wilbur didn't look like a prince, with his messy hair and casual style. His Father had been pestering him about his looks, but he didn't have it in him to dress up for people who didn't give a shit about him. So he wore what he wanted to wear. Though, he did find himself drawn to the delicate silver chains and sapphires that he caught sight of on the other royals. Or the gold chains with deep green emeralds.

The brunette slipped quietly out into the vast open field. Moonlight bathed the land in a ghostly  colour and made him into a walking shadow. He could see the town in the distance; the warm yellow lights and embers from fires made the town look more alive than the old stone castle behind him would ever be.

He kept his pace steady, shivering as a sudden cold wind swept over the moor. He didn't get to go out a lot—that much was obvious. What if someone from town—No, they wouldn't. I've been here dozens of times and no one has...they don't even know I'm of royalty. Wilbur sighed softly, tucking his wings close to his body. He felt more alone with the realisation that he was basically a nobody. Maybe that was better. Maybe...maybe he should just leave. Run. Disappear. Would anyone notice? And if they did...would they even care?

He drew nearer to the town, the cold loneliness dropping from his body and mind like an old coat; tossed onto the rack for another day. He spotted a familiar head of sandy blonde hair and immediately ran over. "Dream!" The Prince beamed as the man turned to face him.

"Wilbur! I didn't know you were coming out tonight?" The blonde—Dream—tilted his head slightly.

"Couldn't sleep," Wilbur shrugged, walking by his side as they made their way away from the crowd of people who were gathered around the nightly bonfire.

As they walked, Dream lit up a cigarette and put it to his lips, inhaling and letting out a large cloud of dark grey smoke. Wilbur didn't quite know where they were walking, but he'd follow Dream nonetheless. He always did. And when Dream offered him the cigarette, he didn't hesitate to accept it and take a long drag of it. He relished the burning sensation that it gave him.

They reached their destination soon enough, which was a small local bar with a few midnight drinkers. The bar was small, two waitresses and a bartender were on duty that night. Or...morning? Wilbur couldn't tell the time anymore.

The Prince settled down in the barstool next to the blonde, fidgeting with the hem of his sleeve as he watched Dream order his usual drink; a lager. He felt a prickle of jealousy at how the man could just effortlessly drink alcohol, while Wilbur hadn't even dared to try it. Not even a single drop. He just didn't trust himself. Or the people around him. The thought of someone doing something—anything—to him or his drink made him shiver, pulling his black, feathered wings closer to his back.

He heard the door open again, making his head turn swiftly to the newcomer. The man was short, around 5'7-ish, and he had raven coloured hair. His eyes were a soft chocolate brown and behind him were- Wings? Wilbur's eyes widened slightly. The man had beautiful golden wings, the feathers on them looked incredibly soft and silky. He wanted nothing more than to reach out and touch them. But he couldn't.

There was something about the man, but just couldn't place it. But as soon as they locked eyes, it clicked.

"Well, isn't this a sight?"

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