(NO POV)
It was a happy sunny day, and nothing could ever be better for Hermitcraft. I mean like, let's face it. Other than Demise going on, it seemed like it couldn't be better.
The shopping business was booming, and the flora in the land rustled sweetly. Mumbo worked on his farms, staring happily at a honey block. Zedaph threw down a glass bottle and watched it slide off an ice track. Cub got situated in his new home at the graveyard. Ren coldly waited for more souls to join the dead team. Grian was nowhere to be found. Poultry Man was on the hunt for Duckwoman. Stress whispered to Ren about possible plans. False was propped against a wall, admiring the passing clouds. Xisuma The rest of the hermits were also idly doing NORMAL things.
But nothing could prepare them for the storm.
Oh, nothing at all.
Somewhere across the sea, a terrible hurricane was about to make landfall.
No one;
I mean no one; not even Tinfoil; was prepared for the long haul creeping closer each and every single second.
Not a single soul.
YOU ARE READING
Gifted: Hermitcraft
Action(Cover by someone else who's not me- and I have no clue who they are) (Also, I MIGHT create a new personality for the hermits, since I have trouble with already existing ones for some reason.) (Very mild scenes and language.) A freak storm. Injuries...
