jeanishorse

The cold bit at the large hogs face as he exited the tunnel, loose snow drifting from the ground to land on his snout, melting instantly at his warmth. He began to freeze slowly as he scanned the area. Little houses decorated the small, confined homestead, spruce sheds covered in snow like ginger bread houses. In the back loomed a large mansion. The hog looked in awe, confused as to how such a thing could have been built. How long has he been gone. It felt like a few months to him, but the progress of life outside his prison seemed to betray that thought with every step he took.
          	He pulled from his pant pocket a photo, tattered and torn at the edges was a smaller hog. He seemed happier, filled with blissful ignorance, the photo was labeled "MICHAEL". Who that was, the large pig didn't know, but his friends dying wish seemed to be correlated with it.
          	He pressed on, his winter coat paired with his coarse fur deemed no match for the prickling breeze, each step chilling his soles to the bone, making his teeth clatter. He walked to the mansion first, calling out a name.
          	"Tubbo?" His friends friend. The one whos picture was seen in the image, the only clue he had to finding out who Michael was.
          	No answer.
          	He left the Mansion, and headed to a much smaller shack, opening the door he was greeted to an open latch to the cellar and broken open attic. Carefully, the hog entered, shaking his body from the snow and chilled air. Climbing up the ladder to the attic he saw a cage of chickens, and several broken paintings. The hog sauntered to the chickens, seeing one of them holding a collar around it's neck:
          	"MICHAEL'S CHICKEN"
          	He examined the broken painting, holding up the image to it. It was a perfect match. But where was Michael, and where was Tubbo. Who was Michael. He was left more confused and with more questions.
          	He turned around, carefully climbing down the ladder and bracing himself to head out the door, once more into the cold winter.

jeanishorse

The cold bit at the large hogs face as he exited the tunnel, loose snow drifting from the ground to land on his snout, melting instantly at his warmth. He began to freeze slowly as he scanned the area. Little houses decorated the small, confined homestead, spruce sheds covered in snow like ginger bread houses. In the back loomed a large mansion. The hog looked in awe, confused as to how such a thing could have been built. How long has he been gone. It felt like a few months to him, but the progress of life outside his prison seemed to betray that thought with every step he took.
          He pulled from his pant pocket a photo, tattered and torn at the edges was a smaller hog. He seemed happier, filled with blissful ignorance, the photo was labeled "MICHAEL". Who that was, the large pig didn't know, but his friends dying wish seemed to be correlated with it.
          He pressed on, his winter coat paired with his coarse fur deemed no match for the prickling breeze, each step chilling his soles to the bone, making his teeth clatter. He walked to the mansion first, calling out a name.
          "Tubbo?" His friends friend. The one whos picture was seen in the image, the only clue he had to finding out who Michael was.
          No answer.
          He left the Mansion, and headed to a much smaller shack, opening the door he was greeted to an open latch to the cellar and broken open attic. Carefully, the hog entered, shaking his body from the snow and chilled air. Climbing up the ladder to the attic he saw a cage of chickens, and several broken paintings. The hog sauntered to the chickens, seeing one of them holding a collar around it's neck:
          "MICHAEL'S CHICKEN"
          He examined the broken painting, holding up the image to it. It was a perfect match. But where was Michael, and where was Tubbo. Who was Michael. He was left more confused and with more questions.
          He turned around, carefully climbing down the ladder and bracing himself to head out the door, once more into the cold winter.

jeanishorse

I made Ko-Fi! It's mainly used for my art, but it could help me get enough money to publish a book! Not to mention motivation since I have trouble keeping up with my own mind.
          
          Even a follow on my Ko-fi is more than enough support! I will continue writing soon enough, but now I'm working on art since I know I can make more money on that. I will probably shift my attention on making money on writing, so I'm sorry in advance if you have to pay for some stories later on.
          
          Also follow my Deviantart for some sweet illustrations. Commissions will open soon enough once I get the hang of everything. Maintaining income online is difficult... @.@
          
          But thank you in advance for everyone who wishes to join, I may even make it like a Patreon and have little tiers here and there for those who donate. But anyway, it's just a little update, love you all and thank you for the support!
          
          Deviantart: https://www.deviantart.com/cosmos-factor
          Ko-fi: https://ko-fi.com/cosmosfactor
          
          -Love,
          Cosmo