Herobrine

AGAIN

It has been about 8 days after Brian stumbled to his house, and Steve felt a little bit content with him around.

For some days, he has helped him carry some buckets of water, reap the things he sow and feed the dogs. He never really wanted to tag along when hunting, though. Maybe the blood, maybe the sheer violence of it; he doesn't know.

It is very nice to have a companion around. That, he could not deny.

Perhaps because all these times he always live alone, and the villagers were quite hostile (and even more hostile now) towards him, he never really have those thoughts of having someone as a companion. When Brian tagged along, it seemed as if he can do things lately that he couldn't. Brian is also quite the hygienic type, so one time and another, he would come home to find the floors and whatever underground spotless clean. He had no idea how Brian seemed to know how to clean things so well, and even the carpet smells like peonies. Brian would be sitting on the couch with two mugs of chocolate on the table, and he looked surprisingly full of himself. And he did great, too.

Another thing Steve liked is that Brian started to talk to him some time ago. He's quite the kind person, and he told him some things about his journey, and for some time they would sit together and talk about things, like when he camped inside a desert pyramid. He had never seen one before, but it must've looked great. He also told him once when he was chased around by zombies, and managed to climb a tree and cling there. There was this time, too, he met some villagers, but they don't accept him.

Sometimes, just sometimes, he thinks that there is a part of him alike the mysterious companion, other than their appearance.

So, after some days, his suspicions grew lesser and lesser of the man, and perhaps, just perhaps, he could include him as a friend he never had. A friend that will be there when he has problems and all those kind of things he read in books. A friend, a companion. Maybe a best friend.

But, he shook those thoughts away. Brian is only here for some days only, and sooner or later, he'd lose that friend as well. So he never really said anything, although the companion seems nice for him.

Somehow, the thoughts of Brian being similar and dangerous was pushed to the back of his mind.

As Herobrine entered Steve's room (with him still naively insisting to stay sleeping on the couch and make a new bed once he found a sheep) he sat down on the bed, stretching his shoulder as he heard a satisfying pop. He then briefly snapped his fingers to start a short fire on the ground, just for a while to make the stone less cold, as the usual he did all night, and he extinguish it once he's satisfied with the temperature. If his bed was on fire, he is sure Steve would not be so happy.

All these days, he had experienced hard work. Well, not so hard because Steve usually did it all the time. He only did the smallest of things; cleaning the room, feeding the dogs, kneading dough for bread and fishing as he waited for Steve from his usual wild game. He did okay, he thinks, and Steve seemed to put enough trust with him.

He realized that he was getting soft. The thoughts of Steve sleeping bed-less makes him quite pity the miner. He always worked hard too everyday, toiling and hunting and all. It made him re-think his life. He knew he is the King of the Mobs, and he had a huge home. Although that, as well, he does not seem to attend it as well. Sure, Steve's home is quite dusty and dirty, but at least he made use of it to the fullest. He knows wherever he keep his stuff. He knows how to craft a lot of things and he is quite the chef. He knows to convert from a nice wooden house to a very inconvenient house like this is hard work, but he pulled it off anyway. the Nether King is not very sure if he could suddenly be thrown into poverty like this and live alone. He needs servants to attend to his work.