Lionhearts ||Skephalo||

39

It was nice to be traveling again, Tubbo reflects. Despite how their break had refreshed him, he grew quickly anxious to continue on their journey after everything with Fundy and all...

He winces as his eye stings, reminding him of the most unwelcome part of this whole situation. He pushes it out of mind, unwilling to think too hard about it—
Dead, he's dead, he died. A mocking little voice whines somewhere in his skull, and he shakes his head slightly, grabbing Tommy's hand and squeezing it firmly.

The blond glances at him, and squeezes back unnoticeably. He probably knows how it's hurting. He can always tell.

They've always been together, after all— ever since Philza found them. Tubbo's days alone were filled with adrenaline and terror— the memories don't come easily.

He doesn't really want to remember right now either; he's pulled out of his thoughts by Fundy bumping his ankle and looking up with a little whine.

Tubbo's mouth quirks into a small grin as he brushes his hair out of his eyes. It was largely thanks to Fundy that he was able to keep traveling despite the shock of last night— the other's comforting had massively softened the otherwise devastating night.

The smile makes the fox yip excitedly, and he prances on ahead to wind around Sapnap's ankles as the dark-haired man walks, hand almost brushing Skeppy's arm as the two discuss things in soft, inaudible voices.

Tubbo wonders what they could be thinking of, what they could be planning.
He glances to Tommy, and asks in a low voice,

"Tommy?"

"Mhm?" Tommy glances back, "Yeah?"

"When they make us go back, what are we going to do? Like, we can't just sit around and do nothing, can we?"

Tommy absentmindedly scratches at the slight bandaging on his arm, the bite mark mostly healed but still bothering him.

"...I guess we could ask Eret," he reasons, "Surely 'e 'as something we could do, righ'?"

Tubbo nods at the assessment. He can't help but want to do something more, even though he understands they should stay safe. He used to be the one pushing to do less, to get into less risky situations— but Phil's absence is a burning coal in his stomach, making him restless.
He once more looks to their older companions, including Fundy, who is leading the way with a proud little hop in his four-legged step.

"Yeah. That's true. Maybe Phil will find us while we 'elp Eret out too." He wants to believe that. It feels fake.

Tommy adjusts Tubbo's strap before it can slip off his shoulder, and stops him.

"Here, look," he murmurs, and fidgets with the accessory, adjusting it so it fits snugly around Tubbo's torso. Tubbo smiles gratefully at the blond.

"Ah! Thanks." They quickly continue walking, catching up the few feet they'd lost.

Skeppy seems so eager to be back on the road; and really, why wouldn't he be eager? Surely he's anxious to see that boy again before something horrible happens to him— Tubbo knows that if the tables turned and Tommy was in that situation, he'd fight tooth and nail to see his friend again, and vice versa.

Something about the haunted, painful, look in Skeppy's eyes every time he woke up though...Tubbo involuntarily shivers.

He looked so scared. So— broken. Like what he saw killed something in him.
The Nether is no place for someone who fits Bad's description, Tubbo had learned.

His mage mark twinges, and he winces a little, used to it. They must be passing over a mana pool.