🥀 We Aren't Friends [Bad End Friends] ♠

•°♠️ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴜɴᴋɴᴏᴡɴ♠️°•

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"This is my Unknown. It's dark and damp, chilly and creepy--but its home. Its my home."

-Beast Wirt

----~•°•~----

Happiness ; a healthy lifestyle, a happy or cheerful feeling. A warm, delightful, or heartwarming mood spreading.

Yeah right, its all an illusion. Beast Wirt leans on the side of a tree. His rainbow pastel colored eyes shimmer as he glances down at a small puddle reflecting his eerie form. First he sees his captivating eyes. His tense gaze moves to his dark brown hair to the long branches sticking on both sides of his head, his antlers. He stares at the crimson red cone on the top of his head. Finally, he looks at his royal blue dark coat concealing his body down to his knees. He also wears overalls under with plain brown boots.

A line stretches across his face as he scowls at the puddle. His eyes glow a powerful hue of colors.

Do they/ the people in the Unknown, should they fear such monstrosity? What is there to fear, but a boy like me to have antlers, and colorful eyes like me? Surely they've seen crazier things around this place, thought Wirt. The soft blue in his eyes turn green. The tall boy stomps on the puddle. Water spews out. Whatever it is they should fear me.

He sighs, a leak of mist exits his mouth. A thin sheet of fog surrounds him. The brisky wind softly plays with his hair. Its been quite chilly lately. I wonder how that Traitor is doing....nah, must be dead after so long. I really need to for....I can't even bother to finish the sentence can I? I don't need to think about it. It's probably been years. So sad I can never age, what a curse, but a fulfilled wish. Wirt smiles, his poetry kept him sane all the time. Its the only thing he has left in his poisonous body.

It's been sometime since I've seen a single child. A whistle roars through the trees, the wind howls. "Such a cold fright. "He says low.

"M̶̡͈̤̺̱͙͚̭͚̊͗y̵̟̏̉̒̄̐̃ ̸̢̼̼̱̤͈̻͈͚̼͍͍̞͂̎P̶̧̯̣̩̤͙̰̩͔͙͇̟̠̈̾̂̅̇̃̑͑͐̚͘͝ͅȑ̵̫̩̭̮̯͜i̴̺̻̥̠̦̠̖̻͈̮̽n̸̺͓̝̪͚̤̞̳̍͆̑͛̈͒͌̂͘ç̴̝̳̰̤͓̱̰̤̠̲͓͖̇̅̑̽̅̐̌̀̔̌̊̾̽͜͝ͅe̴̒̀́.."

A high pitch voice calls out behind him. In quick action Wirt turns, leaping back quickly in surprised.

"M̶̡͈̤̺̱͙͚̭͚̊͗y̵̟̏̉̒̄̐̃ ̸̢̼̼̱̤͈̻͈͚̼͍͍̞͂̎P̶̧̯̣̩̤͙̰̩͔͙͇̟̠̈̾̂̅̇̃̑͑͐̚͘͝ͅȑ̵̫̩̭̮̯͜i̴̺̻̥̠̦̠̖̻͈̮̽n̸̺͓̝̪͚̤̞̳̍͆̑͛̈͒͌̂͘ç̴̝̳̰̤͓̱̰̤̠̲͓͖̇̅̑̽̅̐̌̀̔̌̊̾̽͜͝ͅȩ̴̜̻̣̮̭͓͎̒̀́̌.. "

A little boy with black hollow eye sockets smiles with a tooth-pointy smirk. His head painfully ticked to the left as his knuckles knock on the tree bark. His hair is messy grey-brown, he wears a shirt connected to grey strapped overalls, and tiny black shoes.

Wirt's frowns, and relaxes, "I'm not your prince you filthy dead creature. ",He keeps one hand in his coat while the other peaks out holding a long machete.

(1)

"S̷͓̼̚͜͝e̸̗̞̭̗̊̓́͝d̷̰́ ̶̗̱̼̌̓ṁ̴̺͖͋̿͜i̸̡̙̠͑a̴̡̾͐͛ ̴̢̅̂p̶̖̱̏̎ŕ̵̢̪̥̮̇͐̐i̴̯̍̂̐͑n̵̯̄c̶̡̞̠̈̓̉͘ͅo̸̖̠̝̭̾̒͐͝,̶͈̘̓ ̸̡͙̤͈͆n̷̦̑͛ẽ̶̥̭̔̓ͅ ̸̲̘̣͓̽ṉ̵͆͜e̶̼̣͚͙̚c̸̪͂̍͘͜e̶͙̾͝s̵͔͓͒̆̄̏ḁ̷̡̘͐͐͛̌s̴͈͈̝̱͊ ̶͚̥̀̒d̸̠̤̫̪̐̋͌į̶̨͈̰̔ŗ̶̿̊į̴̮̝͌,̷̝̓͐͜͜ ̴̻͔̾͑͝s̴͔̬͍̬̎̆̄͗e̶̝̘͐̌d̴̥̜͍̉̿ ̴̣̭̮͒͝v̸͙͛͝i̶̧͉͇͋̈́͜a̵͎̟̭̚ ̸̥͉̀̔͝v̶̝̯͂̓̕i̵̡̞̻͉̇͂v̵̬̙̙͑̑͋͝ô̶̫͍͎̠͠ ̶̡̰͕̀̚e̵̢͔̹̪̋̿̀͝s̴̭̣̑t̴͍̒a̴̧͋s̷̖͔̽͂̀̄ ̸͚̰͖̘̽̕ȩ̵̠̔̚n̵͂̃͜ ̶̳̱͕͆̎̉r̴̩̺̲̈́͝i̶͎̗͋͑̕s̸̻̦̣͗̿̐͘k̵̮̦̃ő̵̬͍͠.̷̬̭̤̦͋͂ ̶̨̹̇͛͂̃'̶͈̻̳́̌̏̏Ã̴̛̦̼̗̀̂n̶̟̗͈͒ķ̶͇̂͂͘̕a̷͙͎̩͈̓ŭ̶̢͎͈̓͆̕ ̵̛̮p̶̼̦̈̒͑̈́o̶̻̔͘v̵͙̮̎ư̶͍͗͗͘s̴͉̰̩̳͛͗͝ ̴̻̬̦̀̄͂l̵̛̫͎̜̚u̷̗͆̏d̷̨̦́̂ĩ̵̦̫̽̕̚ ̸͍̰͇͐l̴̫̾͑ḁ̶͑ ̸̘̭̕͜ḽ̸͎̒̓͊ư̷̡̫͇̥̎̓d̶͚̩̲̈́ó̶̡̟̫n̵̝͎̿̚'̷͎͈͖͐ ̶̘͋̓̿d̶̦̠̠̃̌i̸̙̳̮̊̇̊̍r̵̺͍̓̐ͅą̸̢̣̄͜s̷̨͈͚͙͋ ̶͍̫̹̜̃͌̑l̴͚̗͚͇͑̑a̵̗̿̀́͑ ̵̙̀̊̊͝B̴̡͚̓̂e̷̡̘͇̒s̸̼̟͒ẗ̸͎̞̹́̆ò̵̪̦̇.̷̱̟̹̅͝",
The boy smirks.