𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙮𝙤𝙪, 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙡𝙙 ༄
Tommy was on the run. Techno had just finished washing his hands of blood. Phil was sharpening his feathers. And Wilbur, Wilbur was starting a band. Three of them were together, were a family. Three of them had found each other. One remained, stumbling blindly in the darkness, searching for a place to belong. (Or, my...