Lionhearts ||Skephalo||

30

Tubbo is already far ahead of Skeppy, his boots thumping against the road as he pushes past the late-night stragglers and people making their way to taverns and bars. The city has already almost shut down for the night, lights in houses extinguished and silence falling upon the usually bustling streets.

Skeppy finally catches up to Tubbo in the city square— or one of them, he supposes —as the boy searches the area for their animal companion.

"Tubbo, don't leave me behind like that," he reprimands, a bit nervously, "You could've gotten hurt or lost me." Tubbo shrugs, and apologizes quietly as he continues to search for the fox. Skeppy takes in the area, registering it fully as he inspects it for any sign of Fundy.

"There—" He points to a small bundle of orange fur curled up on a circle of glowing runes, a contented look on the fox's face as he watches the two, almost expectantly. Tubbo jogs over excitedly, only pausing for a brief second to run his gaze over the runes.

"A teleportation circle..." He remarks quietly, "I remember taking one of these when Phil brought us here. It might've even been this one." Skeppy catches up again, standing next to Tubbo protectively as the boy squats down to coax the fox into his arms.

There's a moment where Skeppy sees the runes flash brighter, glowing orange, but he doesn't have time to realize what it means.

Everything next happens so fast that Skeppy can't make heads or tails of it; just a shriek, and a dizzy, motion blurred image of somewhere different as he plummets through and lands on stone, wincing as his tailbone collides with the ground.

Tubbo hadn't shrieked, Skeppy realizes with no small amount of embarrassment. He looks up at Tubbo, who seems dizzy but otherwise unfazed by their sudden teleportation. The shriek had come from his own mouth.

And the fox is dashing away again.

"Shit," the hunter groans, pulling himself up from the ground as Tubbo points to the alley the fox has dashed into, telling Skeppy,

"We can't lose 'im! Down there, quick!"

But his words fall on deaf ears as Skeppy stares at the place they stand now, hearing nothing except his own overwhelmingly loud thoughts.

They're standing in a quaint square, a fountain trickling a steady stream in the middle...and Fundy has dashed down an alley flanked by boxes of wildflowers. Foxglove.

Skeppy has seen this place before.
This is it, isn't it? The fountain is working but it's the same place as that dream I had.

Tubbo tugs on him insistently.

"Come on!" He shakes his head as his friend's words pull him out of his shocked stupor, and he nods in response.

They begin to jog after the fox, finding him scratching at a door, his fur fluffed up and his ears flattened. Skeppy exhales in relief when he realizes it isn't the blue door of his dream. He kneels next to the fox, murmuring,

"Hey buddy, calm down. What's wrong, Fundy?" The fox snarls, baring fangs in agitation, and dives into a pot, delicate paws sifting through the dirt with intent.

Soon, the fox leans into the pot, pulling back with a key held in his mouth. He spits it at Skeppy's feet, staring at him expectantly, and Tubbo takes it.

"He wants us to open this door?" Skeppy questions. "Isn't this like...breaking and entering?" Tubbo shrugs.

"We can tell em the truth if things get weird, or well, weirder," he reassures Skeppy, and before the hunter can stop him, he's inserted the key into the door and pushed it open tentatively.