Awakened

Realm of the Manticore

((Y'ALL. I COMPLETELY forgot what day it was yesterday when I woke up and that was AFTER I slept through my update alarm. I've had this chapter waiting for days already!! Man I really need to fix my schedule- anyway, I think you'll like this one!))

The building was small, like most of the others scattered throughout this part of the Nether, but one of the many that was built near a wall, with a carved out room dedicated to surprisingly large farms. It also had another wall, this time open to what elements existed in the Nether with obsidian walls and gravel floor, furnaces and even anvils sitting inside.

He could understand the merit in keeping the busywork separate from the housing. It was both hot and loud. Blue admired the natural ingenuity.
Though.. once again, his gaze trailed back to Ink, who was curled up mostly on the shoulders of the donkey, tail wrapping under its belly as he gripped the rootlike tip. Carrot had moved to the back of Spookum’s saddle, continuously eyeing the sculky piglin.

Fresh was still unusually aloof, having been so ever since that strange fit earlier. Blue didn't know what he was thinking, not really. All he could guess was that it was a bit of a revelation, hearing what was essentially the perspective of the Builders over the war. Blue wasn't sure the Withers had been aware of it. He certainly wasn't, and he was pretty sure he used to be one.

At least Cross was busy in that “Leader Mode” of his, surprisingly adept at compartmentalizing the jarring incident and trying to soothe nerves by moving on. The act just wasn't as effective on those that had seen him previously fall into a near panic attack over what sculk might be capable of.
Worked fine on the other piglins, though.

At the moment, Cross was deep in discussion with some of the piglins that lived in the current outpost they'd stopped at, many of which were staring with wide eyes as others regularly gestured back towards those greenhouse rooms. If one could even call them that. Epic was further off to the side, talking to the piglins that had joined them from the bastion. A few others that lived at the outpost had wandered over, many glancing at Ink.

“Should we do something about him?” Killer leaned over to whisper at him.
Blue blinked, confused. “What do you mean?”
“.. Y'know. Him.” He nodded at Ink, who was still unresponsive. He was pretty sure the other was close enough to hear them, Ink had pretty good ears. And he couldn't fathom what Killer was trying to say.

“I'm not sure I know what you want to do about him. He just had a fairly overwhelming realization about himself.. I think we should leave him alone to process that.” He replied just as quietly. He could see Dust glance over, ears raised when he spoke. And the enderman was slightly further away than the sculky piglin, so he was reasonably confident Ink could hear them.

“No, I mean- uh. Wasn't the point of him coming about him being able to tell what the fuck we're gonna be looking at? It doesn't look like he's gonna be able to now.” Killer argued.
“He might come around when we get there.” Blue pointed out. “And besides, there's no guarantee we'll actually run into any danger. We can just ask him later when he's feeling better.”

The creeper scowled at that, making a faint, low hiss under his breath in frustration.
“I'm not sure what you expect from me.” Blue told him.
“I don't trust him, alright?” Killer admitted.
Blue held back a cringe, noting an ear flick from the sculky piglin as he kept his face even.
“Why?”
“He hasn't exactly been reliable for anything but chaos since he showed up. And I know that makes me a hypocrite, but at least I'm fucking honest about it. Have you seen how he just.. pauses every other sentence when he's talking? He just fucking stares. I swear there's fucking nothing in his eyes when he does that. I just- what if he's planning something worse than Hazel?”