Chapter Text
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"You want. To go down there.
And check."
If one could say to this usually peaceful piglin, 'Hurt.',
They would've complied.
"Well, yeah!" A stammer, "it doesn't hurt to— to check!"
the colourful fur-ette tried to keep things light, standing, peering over the edge of a platform to the void below.
And frankly, Tilly felt blood rush to their head, and fists, and aggressively, they point to the void,
with a oddly- no, a strained, yet calm voice, they spoke.
"You want, to go down there, to check." Tilly repeats.
And it sounded gritted. It sounded like they clamped their mouth, to stop from further hurting someone,
but why can't anyone see and help, they were struggling, too.
And this fur-ette.
They weren't helping.
They pushed someone off, of here, too, right?
"Down the place, that might've Noka." They didn't pause, "You think I'm gonna let Whesp go down there?.."
And there it was, somewhat rage of a mother, that twindled with the buildup of anger.
Buildup of pain.
"You— you-"
"You think, I'm gonna let the only thing, I have left,"
A breath, an inhale.
An inhale of anger, for an exhale of fear.
"Go down there?" they finished.
And the green coated brunette begins yet again, afraid, or perhaps thinking of ways to avoid this.
Avoid being on edge, both on edge of Tilly's exploding buildup and the edge of what might've consumed Noka.
"Okay, the—then maybe Whesp doesn't have to go there."
"You know what, why don't you," Tilly jabs a finger to Henki's chest, "go down there."
"Then maybe we could make it a funeral!" Hands raised in exasperation, as if they weren't done.
They were never done, something about Henki.
They want to end it.
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