Lionhearts ||Skephalo||

1

It's a hot summer evening, scents of flowers heavy in the air as a faint breeze stirs the still heat pressing down on the isolated town.

Skeppy rolls over, sprawling out on his back as he stares to the sky, watching as it tinges with orange and the sun creeps away beneath the horizon. He can feel the cool night air begin to settle, and he sits up, turning to face his friend.

"Bad? Are you awake?" Upon hearing his name, Bad lifts his head and nods, the clovers he chose to lay in mixing with his caramel brown hair, white flowers getting caught in the strands as he sits up, blinking owlishly as he adjusts his glasses.
"Yeah, I'm awake! What's up?"

Skeppy flexes his hand gently, and murmurs, suddenly reluctant,
"Uh- nothing, just making sure you hadn't passed out in the flowers like a dumbass."

Bad bops him gently on the shoulder, jokingly stating,
"Language. And did you really think I'd fall asleep like that?"

Well yeah. You looked incredibly comfortable, and very cute. Skeppy shelves that thought, and pulls a flower from Bad's hair,
"Yeah, kinda. You've fallen asleep in weirder places if I'm honest."

Bad laughs softly, a sweet giggle, and Skeppy melts.
He offers,

"I'll walk you back to your house if you'd like. The mobs will be coming out soon and I don't want you to get hurt."
Bad links arms with him, tugging him to his feet,
"Thank you! I'm sure I could handle a few mobs but it's always much safer to pair up. Then you can get help if you need it!"

The summer breeze teases around their necks, raising goosebumps on Skeppy's skin, while Bad adjusts his scarf.
They both turn to the horizon where the new moon is rising, instinctively, and then glance at each other. Skeppy grabs Bad's hand, and says in a quiet, serious tone,
"Bad I think you should come home with me tonight. Something is wrong."

He begins pulling Bad along, and a shriek alerts them to the presence of someone else- George, who sprints up the road with his sword and shield in hand, in full armor, and skids to a stop in front of them.

"Guys, they're- there's something coming from the woods," He pants, glancing over his shoulder fearfully. Skeppy asks,
"Mobs? Is it a zombie invasion? A raid?"

George shakes his head, and then shakes it again,
"I- I don't know what they are, I couldn't clearly tell. There was just- blue and black, and something in the trees, watching me. I think there was some red in the forest too, fighting with the black things but I-"

"I know, you can't tell," Skeppy interrupts, tightening his hand on his friend's hand, "Let's get to my house. We can arm ourselves and you can recuperate. Hopefully whatever it is isn't some new beast that just wants to slaughter us."
He begins to take off, dragging Bad behind him much to the other's surprise, and George jogs after them towards Skeppy's house. Skeppy doesn't hesitate, slamming the door open and then rapidly closed behind the three of them. He directs Bad towards his armory, and George to the couch,

"We need a strategy. A way out of here in case those things overpower us."
Bad returns clad in iron armor, a sword held reluctantly in his hands.
"What if they're not hostile?" He begins to ask as George winces, undoing a bracer and rolling up his sleeve; on the underside of his forearm is an almost diseased looking slash.

"That- it was only a little scratch," George says, uneasy horror in his tone as he stares at the necrosis creeping through his arm. "It was a small scratch. I barely felt it."

"They're venomous, got it. Bad, get a cloth and treatment for this kind of thing." Bad, eyes wide, nods and runs off to get a cloth and the precious medicine they had stored up over the months.