The start of your day is similar to every other day you've had. Except for the sleeping part.

It was early morning when you rose from the prison that is the strip mine.

Your tunnels were getting so long that it would take hours to walk them. Who knows what lie above them, if anything at all. Hours was a long time to walk, but here you were. Back in the ravine because you planned things properly for once.

Your pocket watch told you everyone should be asleep, so hesitantly you decide to check, making your way to the bedroom and hesitantly peeking in.

Tommy was dead on his bed, curled into his blankets and wearing a shirt that let his downy feathered wings breath.

On a different side of the room Tubbo was asleep as well, sprawled out on his bed and making the smallest bah'ing noise.

Cute.

For however much unresolved tension is between both of you, a smile rose to your face. You've grown too fond of both of them to ever consider not caring.

Ducking out of the room you look around the ravine. They can get their rest.

God knows they need it.

After however long you were marinating near the bedrock's cold chill, you were frozen. The cold had sunk into you so far that now that you were at an area that had more warmth, you could still barely warm up.

Rubbing your hands together, you thumbed over the your cold palm before taking a glance at the ravine steps.

Perhaps...?

No.

It's too risky to walk out and about.

That's what you'd like to tell yourself. Everyone else freely came and went- what keeps you from doing the same?

And the sun would be- incredibly nice to warm up in, you must admit.

Maybe- maybe just a small few minutes.

Your mind tugged at you, throwing you pros and cons- everything that can go wrong, but then everything that could go just right.

You were halfway up the steps when you realized you were walking, and by then you didn't feel like stopping to turn back around, so you just kept walking until you reached the dirt room.

L'dog was gone.

Told you just how much you came up here.

But that wasn't nearly as stringent on your mind.

What really bothered you was the fact that the dirt was left open.

The entrance into Pogtopia wasn't even hidden anymore-

See?

Your mind told you.

You weren't safe hiding there anyway- so why not enjoy the fresh air.

You had to agree with your mind.

The warmth on your skin felt wonderful, and you weren't even in the sun yet.

Taking a few steps outside you looked as though to check if the coast was clear, perking up when everything was calm, and clear, and filled with nature.

You needed a better spot to sit.

A place with more sun.

Like a predator you stalk around the base of the hill, eyeing any spots that were free of trees. Eventually you settled for walking up to the top of the hill, where fewer trees were splotched around.

A big patch of sun had your name on it, so you strut over, and without farther ado, fell back into the tall grass.

The sun soaked into your skin-

And like a lizard on a rock, you were content to just... sit there.

Calmly letting the warmth burn into you.

Birds were chirping in a distant tree, and idly you watched a few bugs buzz around.

You really needed to stop putting yourself in comfortable positions, because when suddenly your eyes open, and you realize you've been asleep for who knows how long, and the flashes of some horrific dream still flash across your eyes, your bound to wonder why you do this to yourself.

Your breathing was heavy.

Deep breaths in and out, mind filmy after the nap.

The sun was directly overhead now- any hint of morning gone as the blistering heat of afternoon rained down on you.

You weren't complaining and stayed where you were, but the images from your dream still clung to your mind.

As you force your breathing to calm down, you genuinely ask yourself why you are the way you are-

And it sucks to ask yourself a question like that.

A soft 'caw' drew your attention.

The rustle of feathers near your chest made you look down, finding a crow settled nice and comfortably atop of you.

It cawed again, this time a little louder, hopping up from where it used to be sitting to quirk its head at you with its beady little eyes.

How long had the little guy been waiting?

"Hello there little fella-" you softly speak.

Quite coincidently, a murder of crows had been in your dream. A back drop to the main events- thousands in the background, fluttering and merging together to create an inky and pitch black atmosphere.

There's eyes were all watching the horrific details of the true dream-

But this one's eyes weren't anything like the red glow of the dream crows. This one had soft, black ones, mischievousness twinkling in every tilt of it head. Despite that, the reminder of your newest nightmare still made you look at him with a grimace.

It cawed again, hopping closer to your head, which was still situated against the grass as you refused to sit up.

"Are you one of Phil's?" You ask it, not expecting a response. Idly your hand reached out, letting it perch on your wrist as you examined the glossy black of its feathers.

It cawed and fluttered its feathers again, curiously pecking twice at your hand, before finding your arm uninteresting and looking at you again.

Something was tied to its leg, a slot of paper, frayed with the effects of weather and nearly falling off the crow's leg.

Your other hand reaches up, gently prying the paper off its foot, and it cawed happily at you, still perched on your wrist, but staring intently as you unfurl the paper.

'Aye mate- hope this reaches you.'

The first line made you grin, and you peer over the top of the paper to look at the crow. Of course it was one of Phil's.

'I saw I got a message from you on my communicator, but one of these little shits yoinked it from me last second and kept cawing about how shiny it was- so I guess I have to respond by paper. God I feel so old right now.'

You smile, yeah this is Phil alright.

'I'm not that old. Several millenias isn't too old. Back on topic- I'm just letting you know that once I get my communicator back I'll shoot you a call. Maybe I'll visit, it has been a good while.'

The notes ends there, and you didn't really expect an end card, because Phil wasn't exactly the most formal. The improper format of his letter had you smiling. It felt nice to get in contact with him.

Turning your grin to the crow still perched on your wrist, you fold the note into your pocket, and reach a hand up to pet at the feathers near its neck.

"Tell Phil I said hi back." You murmer, "Tell him it's urgent, and I really need him to visit and call. Anything really."

It caws at you again, and when you lift the wrist higher into the air, it takes off in flight, fluttering its wings off into a long, long journey.

Once it's out of sight, your by yourself again, sitting in the grass with the afternoon sun staring you down.

The wind peacefully rolled over you, and your eyes closed. Not with the intent of sleep, but with relaxation. Now that you knew Phil was going to get back to you, you felt at peace.

Your good old buddy Phil, who liked to wander the edges of the world.

It takes you awhile more of sitting around before anything else in the atmosphere changes.

With a start you notice you hear footsteps, and when you glance up from your spot on the ground you catch a sleepy Tommy looking down at you.

A pickaxe is slung over his shoulder, and he looks confused to see you on the ground.

"The fuck you doing on the floor?"

"Trying to not have nightmares." You sarcastically reply, fluttering your eyes shut again.

You weren't at all expecting Tommy to talk to you. You thought for sure he was going to turn a blind eyes to you in favor of going off into the woods.

"...oh." he mutters.

Idly he kicks his foot, a random rock tumbling away.

You were fully expecting him to leave, but instead his pickaxe hits the floor and he takes a seat next to you, puffed up looking, and refusing to look at you.

"It's a good day today. Nice and warm." You nearly whisper. Scared a louder voice would scare him off.

"Yeh." He mutters.

Still sitting.

Still staying close for a reason your unsure of.

He follows your example, flopping onto his back and starfishing next to you in the long grass.

For a good while, you both sit in complete silence. The tension of everything that had happened weighed heavily on your mind as you ran circles around what to say to him.

Was there anything you could say to fix this? Anything that could mend anything that had been broken?

You can't see his face with how overgrown the grass is, but you hear his sad sounding sigh.

"You good?" You gently question.

"Peachy." He grumbles.

Then he pauses, before tacking on, "See- you're always worried about other people. Aren't you mad at me for being a dick?"

"I'm not mad at you for having a justified anger." You take in a breath, shaking because maybe this is the conversation that can fix the red stain your friendship had been recently, "Just a little disappointed that you couldn't let me be my own person and make my own choices."

He makes a noise, a whine of sorts and you hear him dragging his hand down his face, "You're doing that thing again- where you give people second chances- it makes me feel like shit."

At that, you finally sit up, "Like shit? I-" you rub a hand over your face, "I never meant to make you feel like shit..."

"No! You fuckin idiot-" he sits up as well, "I felt like shit because you were being nice to me even though I was an ass!"

He waves a hand at you, "I was expecting you to get angry- but you just never did."

You pause, taking in his scrunched up face.

He looked fustrated.

"Did you want me to get angry at you?" You ask.

His eyes widen, looking at you and he seems unsure of how to respond.

"Of course not-" he murmurs, looking to the grass and fumbling with the few blades of grass between his fingers, "I just- I don't know- was expecting it? Not many people around these parts just let people be pricks to them- and there are a lot of nasty ruffians here- like Technoblade, and Jschlatt-"

He takes in a breath from his rambling and says, "If you ever piss Techno off, he will never let you live it down- because that fucker thinks he's right no matter what."

With a start, Tommy realizes he rambled to you for too long, and rambled to you about the thing that made you stop talking in the first place. He shut his mouth, shooting you a low glance.

"Yeah. There are definitely a lot of mean people." You say, "But I would never lash out at you for thinking your own thoughts."

Tommy scrunched his eyes up at you again, this time because his eyes glisten with the tell tale sign of tears.

"You're your own person." You finish.

He roughly wipes at his eyes with his wrist, eyes reduced to a watery red mess.

Without farther ado, you spread your arms out.

The hug gesture-

The gesture that invites someone else into your embrace.

He wipes harsly at his eyes one last time, before reaching over and hesitantly hugging you back.

"M'sorry for being a dick." He mutters, and you just smile.

"As long as you let me do my own thing, everything's good Tommy."

He's so skinny- almost in a bad way, and while you'd like to make a comment about how he should eat more, it feels wrong to ruin the moment, so you keep that to yourself.

"You speak of this to anyone and I will actually use my blackmail on you." He finally says, pulling away and squinting at you with red rimmed eyes.

"You mean the the fact that you admitted to overreacting?" You tease, grinning when he puffs up and gives you an angry look.

"NO- I didn't overreact!! I never overreact you bitch!" He crossed his arms, "I, Tomathy Innit, am the coolest, most calmest, most collected person there is."

You laugh, before relenting, "Of course, oh great wise one- how could I ever think otherwise."

You make a promise gesture that crosses over your heart, and he nods assuredly.

"Damn right-" He stands, "I just assumed, based on past experience, that something terrible would happen. Nothing wrong with that."

That statement itched you in the wrong direction. He said it so nonchalantly.

How much experience has he had with getting lashed out on that he would... just assume you'd do the same and clamp up.

You once again ignored that for later thought, flopping back down on the ground.

"Are you just gonna lay here all day?" He questions.

"Yeup." You reply.

" 'Mysterious cool stranger with secret past' things?"

"Yeup."

"God- you're such a lizard." He softly kicks your leg before picking up beat and cockily saying, "Speaking of which- guess who's wings got another inch longer?"

"Youurrs..." You mutter and he grins wider.

"Oohh yeahhh- just you wait until these bad boys fully grow in."

Smiling- you huffed out a content noise and waved at him, "Have fun out there. Don't get killed while your gone."

"Yeah yeah- I will mum- I'd say the same to you, but-... you know. Mysterious loner things." He shrugs, before walking off with a wave, "Have fun sunbathing you sloth!"

With that- he's walks off, and you're left with the size of your stress chopped in half.

Like a load had been lifted, because your good little buddy was back on speaking terms- your old buddy was gonna get in touch- and your strange buddy was generous enough to offer random gifts.

Everything that felt like such a huge problem didn't seem so big anymore.

Who cares about Schlatt.

Or Dream.

Or Wilbur.

You were happy in the sun, and that was what mattered to you at the moment.