"Okay, so...wait, let me get this straight...they're in the past, we can't go get them because that 'disrupts the "Story", and so all we have to do is hope they come back?? Great." Tubbo sighs, running a hand over his face and letting his head rest in his palm for a few moments. Dream tilts his head to one side a little, watching the younger man. "Unfortunately." He confirms, glancing over at Wilbur and Philza, who're having some sort of intense discussion in low voices in a darker corner of the room. The crows have left, mostly, shooed off by the Elytrian, giving some quiet. Despite their typically talkative behaviors, the ones that are here have fallen silent, as if they don't dare disturb whatever the father and son are discussing. "I don't like this." Tubbo mutters, mostly to himself. The tome apparently said they help face some sort of evil; 'a war waged and won', but then they just...disappear. He hopes that means they survive, but he also can't help but feel a nagging worry at the back of his mind for their safety. "I don't think any of us do. Usually, there's some sort of solution to all this, but for now, all we can do is...wait." Dream sighs, shifting positions and casually stroking a crow that's come to look for some affection. "Any idea what they're talking about?" Tubbo inquires, eager to find a way to distract himself as he indicates to Wilbur and Philza. "Well, I may not be supposed to admit this, but I think Phil somehow knew about what was going to happen, and therefore could have helped alleviate some of Wilbur's anxiety over Tommy's disappearance." Dream answers quietly, and at that moment, Wilbur says something incoherent, and leaves, walking straight through a wall. The great crow hybrid sighs, looking over at the two with a wry, rueful smile, and comes back over. "Sorry. Wilbur's a little...upset right now." He explains, glancing back at the wall. "He'll be fine. Now, about our friends–" Out of nowhere, the enormous murder of crows returns, each one cawing in a shrill, panicked note. They swarm around the Crow hybrid, not landing and heavily distressed. Some are moving so fast they even crash into the table. Dream stiffens slightly, most noticeable in his fingers, then gently scoops one up. It's injured, a dark substance leaking onto its glossy feathers from under its wing: blood.
"They're saying hunters found the house." Philza explains, having to shout over his distressed horde. "They...killed some of my Chat." Tubbo's ears droop a little, sympathizing with the older man. These crows are very special to him, and he's had a connection with them his whole life, so he's said. "If Wilbur's still around, he'll need to know about this." Dream states, standing up. "I bet he already does." Philza assures him, spreading his wings. "We'll meet you outside, you go on ahead." With a curt nod, the Elytrian takes off, followed by his massive flock, and the room falls silent. "Come on. This hasn't happened in a while, and I'm not willing to let it start now. Because if ONE hunting party gets through, then they'll all start coming." Dream motions for Tubbo to follow him, charging up the stairs and shoving the oak doors open, though he does pause to ensure the younger hybrid is keeping up and makes it past the doors as well. The goat hybrid can understand this urgency. Not only because these people are a threat to Philza's home, or his crows, but because they want to get rid of ALL the hybrids. In groups of typically 12 or 15, they seek out hybrids, capturing them or killing them to get whatever valuable qualities they possess, be it feathers, blood, horns, teeth, or other things. The Dream SMP is supposed to be a safe place, despite the conflicts and wars within, which is why nobody truly leaves. They can't. Arguably, they COULD, but it's far more dangerous. Once they reach the main house level, they can hear the battle outside. Most of it is various sounds of shrieks and caws, but scattered throughout are the sounds of actual people, too. Dream doesn't hesitate to go outside, hopping over the fence and onto the ground to confront the attackers, while Tubbo pauses to take a moment to see what's going on. Wilbur is in the thick of it, taking on three at once, and very clearly holding his own. While he's good with a sword, he favors a set of daggers, allowing him swift, decisive movements. Philza is taking on two over to the left, his crows darting in to distract his opponents and giving him an opening to go on offence. When one of the hunters tries to land a blow on him, he puts his wings in front of himself, the blade sliding off harmlessly, a strange, grating noise accompanying it. Dream's doing...whatever it is he does. He has impressive speed and combat skill, but even as Tubbo observes, the speedrunner throws a man away from him hard enough he slams into a tree, and doesn't get up again. And interestingly, he makes a deliberate effort to ensure no attacks or actions dislodge or reach his mask. Realizing he's been standing there for a few seconds, he draws his own sword and runs over to join the fight. While Tubbo's not met a hunter before, he knows very well that they don't care about the welfare of the creatures they hunt, making it a fight for survival. Barreling into one, he rolls back onto his feet, the man snorting contemptuously at his small size and lack of threatening features. The scar may be awful, but it doesn't serve much of a purpose; goat hybrids aren't meant to be exactly scary. He knows better than to let that define him, however. He ran a country, once. Surely he can handle another fight.
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It's only matter of Time...
FanfictionTime is a fickle thing. And Karl KNOWS that. But he's been doing so well, and nothing's happened for a few weeks, so why doesn't he invite a few people over and try to officially understand why he saw those different versions of them? And the book...
