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Blue eyes traced along the cane paper, drying lines of ink running across it to create a carefully put together floorplan.
Phil was a perfectionist at heart, he had to be. He had to be able to plan for each and every outcome, and it showed.
It showed in how his desk had a nook carved into it to hold a blade, in how he would often find himself keeping his letter openers absurdly sharp, in how his cane was covered in so many lapis runes it almost glowed with raw magic. And it showed in his work, which he loomed over, teeth absentmindedly biting at the quill he was using.
He hadn’t even realised the door to his study had been opened until he felt a small hand rest on his primaries, the feathers fluffing up a little when Phil jolted in surprise.
“Wil?” He hummed, slowly lifting his wing to peer down at the brunette child that was clearly looking for attention.
“It’s snowing- can we go out and play in it?” Wilbur asked, childlike grin spread across his features and exposing a gap-toothed smile. Phil felt his shoulders tense a little as the missing front tooth reminded him of how his eldest had convinced Tommy to push him down the stairs on a makeshift sled. Phil still didn’t know how Wilbur didn’t get a concussion from that crash, kids were pretty indestructible, he guessed.
The avian bit his lip a little as he glanced out his study’s window, blue eyes examining the clouds to see what the weather looked like it would turn out to be.
The clouds were a little too dark for his liking, but upon looking back at his son- who was now joined by both Tommy- speak of the devil- and Technoblade, who stood a pace or two behind them, looking up at Phil with a blank expression- he didn’t have it in him to say no.
“I… Get your warmest clothes, then. It looks Baltic out there.” He breathed with a sigh, reaching for the bone handle of his cane and getting to his feet.
“Yes! Can we go by the stream? I want to see if it’s all icy!” Tommy grinned, clinging to his older brother with a glint of mischief in his eyes, downy wings flared in excitement.
Phil hesitated at that, pressing his lips into a thin line. “As long as you don’t go into it, now hurry, before the snow melts.”
He ushered the children out of his study, unsure of how much he trusted them around the mounted weapons on the wall. He felt Techno gripping his cloak as he walked, the little tug prompting a smile to form on his face.
“Phil.” A small voice eventually spoke from beside him, once Tommy and Wilbur had left to hunt down their winter coats.
“Yeah, Tech?” He hummed, wrapping a wing around the young piglin as he leaned down to look at him.
“What’s snow like?” Techno asked after a moment of contemplation.
“Ah- you’ve never seen it before, have you? It’s like… You know how puddles were frozen over in November?” Phil stopped walking in the hall to explain.
Techno nodded curtly.
“Well rain can freeze like that too, way up in the sky- and when it falls, it’s snow. It’s tiny bits of ice, that’s all. Wilbur and Tommy love to play in it, I’m sure you will too.”
When Phil looked back at his son again, the piglin had a little excited smile on his face.
“Now, get ready, I’ll teach you how to make a snowball once we go outside.”
---
Phil was currently perched on a rock by the stream, watching over the three children with a sharp eye.
He didn’t like being in the forest with them, in all honesty. It felt dangerous, dark, looming conifers potentially concealing monsters from him.
He wanted to play with them, by god, he did, but he felt the need to watch over them like some kind of mother hen as they initiated a snowball fight.
He was worried most about Tommy, for a lot of reasons, but mostly because of the cold. Though he wasn’t able to fly quite yet, downy feathers still visible, he still had hollow bones, and was a lot more susceptible to the cold than his brunette counterpart.
This, of course, meant that Phil was also freezing his ass off in the snow. He had wrapped himself in his wings as he perched on the rock, to little avail.
So, when he was asked to join by a rather whiny Wilbur, he took his chance. In his eyes, it was an opportunity to get moving, keep warm- he could still keep an eye out for monsters while he played along.
Upon Phil joining the game, sides formed, Tommy and Techno on one, and Wilbur and Phil on the other. The latter was doing… awfully, if he was being honest.
Wilbur couldn’t aim for shit, he’d need divine intervention if he wanted to hit a target, and Phil couldn’t help but think of how difficult it would be to teach him how to shoot a bow when he’s older. The older avian was going easy on the other two, not wanting to ruin their fun by constantly hitting their heads with snowy projectiles.
Tommy wasn’t doing much better, really, but he had fallen into the role of snowball-maker for Techno, which he honestly had a knack for.
The piglin in question had become some sort of one man army, methodical in his motions: Pick up a snowball, find his target, aim, throw, hit, repeat. Phil tried not to think about why he would be so skilled, focusing more on Techno’s smile as he threw snowballs until Tommy had exhausted their available snow and he had to move to another place with cover.
All was well, until Phil felt a bone-chilling wind filter through the trees, a hail of snow following in tow. His eyes went wide as he looked up at the sky- when had it gotten so dark?
He looked around briefly, face hardening from his previously carefree expression.
“We’ve been out too long.” He spoke, catching the attention of Wil and Tommy. He was certain they felt the danger that came with the storm too, Wilbur’s lanky frame stiffening and Tommy’s wings flaring in fear.
“Come on- we still have to make our way back to the house before it gets too bad.” Phil breathed as more snow began to fall, wind whipping it around them harshly. Fuck, this would be a white out soon.
---
Techno let out a surprised snort at the sudden unforgiving wind, hands covering his ears as he ducked behind a boulder for cover, not wanting Wilbur to throw a snowball at him while he was caught by surprise.
He looked at the flurry of snow around him in wonder as he leaned against the cold rock, slowly lowering his hands as he watched the snow get carried through the forest, smiling to himself in delight.
He slumped to the frosty ground and grabbed a bit of snow, balling it in his palms until it was dense enough to keep its shape. Once he decided it was good enough to hit his brother with, he sprung up from his position with a grin, winding his arm back and squinting in the wind as he searched for…
Where was everyone?
The young piglin furrowed his brow and crouched down again, looking around for someone to pop up from where they were hiding. The wind made it hard to see, snowflakes getting caught in his lashes and making him shiver as he looked around.
“Don’t be cowards!” He shouted out in an effort to spur them on, though the wind was so loud he could barely hear himself.
He was confused, and he could feel fear seeping into his frame as the silence continued. Where was everyone? Why weren’t they playing anymore?
“Did- Did I do something wrong?” He called out, standing up once again. This wind was beginning to make his teeth chatter, and the rising panic wasn’t helping in the slightest.
“Phil? Tommy?” He called out, dropping his snowball to hop over the rock, hooves sinking into the snow once he landed. “Wilbur?!” His voice was cracking with effort, but the wind seemed to whisk away any chance he had of being heard.
He began to grow desperate, running around the area, checking behind trees, even hopping over the stream to search around there.
He couldn’t stop shivering in a matter of minutes, and felt his stomach twist when he realised he couldn’t move his hands properly anymore.
He had never been this cold before, the nether always enveloping him in warm, humid air, even Phil never let him get this cold, always swaddling him in thick furs and wools before going out to the market on a frosty morning.
He eventually decided it would be best to get out of the wind’s reach, crowding himself into an uncomfortable alcove in a boulder as he decided what to do.
He didn’t know how long had passed when he completely lost feeling in his hands and ears. He wanted to try find his way home, but he could barely see ten foot in front of him with all the snow whipping around him.
He had no idea when he started crying, either, the only evidence being a frosty track down his cheek. He could feel it press into the fabric of his hood when he tried to huddle for warmth.
He had stopped calling for his family by now, accepting that he had been left behind again.
At least when he was separated from his clan in the nether, he knew the landscape, he knew how to fumble his way through surviving, digging for mushrooms, attempting to hunt hoglins- but this? He didn’t have a chance. As far as he was concerned, he was already dying.
He only let out a cry of frustration and sadness when he felt that numb feeling crawl it’s way to his snout, tears finally flowing freely as he felt exhaustion seep into his form.
The embrace of sleep was easy to accept, a release from the bitter cold and sharp rock that currently surrounded him.
He closed his eyes, tears beginning to freeze to his eyelashes.
---
Phil let out a sigh of relief once he walked into the house, tension seeping from his shoulders once he heard the door close, the howling wind becoming background noise to them all as he shook snow from his wings.
“Get out of your wet clothes and into your pyjamas, I don’t want any of you getting sick.” He breathed once he began to warm up, before walking to the kitchen with a sigh.
He didn’t like being caught off guard like that, and his heartbeat was only now beginning to slow.
He hummed to himself as he shrugged off his coat and began to heat the stove, deciding that everyone would probably appreciate some warm soup around now, including him.
He was just warming up some water when he heard some shouting from Wil and Tommy, though he barely acknowledged it, deciding it was probably just a play fight or something along those lines.
That was, until he heard sock-footed steps making their way down the hall to him. They stopped at the kitchen, and Phil looked over to find a confused-looking Tommy, seeming to be looking for something.
“What’s up, Toms?” He asked, raising an eyebrow at the young child.
“Where’s Techno?” He asked, blunt.
Phil paused, looking around for a moment with his eyebrows furrowed. The last time he saw Techno he was-
His heart felt like it stopped.
“FUCK!” His eyes were wide, wings flaring on instinct as he rushed to the door.
“Tommy- Tommy, Wilbur’s in charge-“
“But-“
“Am I clear, Thomas?” He never snaps, but dammit, Techno was out there in that fucking Blizzard right now, and he had no time to argue with his son.
He didn’t even bother grabbing his coat before he threw open the door and started running, raw adrenaline keeping his body warm as he opened his wings to take flight, the tar-black appendages allowing him to take to the air with just a few strong flaps.
The wind was almost worse from where he flew, but running just wasn’t fast enough right now. He had no clue how long the child would last in temperatures like this- the thought crossed his mind that piglins may have a lower tolerance to cold than even avians.
The realisation made him almost queasy, the idea that he was already too late sinking in. How much time was gone already? How much time had he foolishly wasted-
Guilt weighed on his shoulders as he flew, scanning the area for any sign of his son.
He had to find him now, it would be impossible to find any trace of hoofprints if he waited too long. A voice in the back of his mind uttered ‘It would be hard to find his body if you wait, too’.
Eventually, he caught sight of a hunched figure by a boulder, not far at all from where they had been previously playing in the snow.
Phill swooped down in a heartbeat, not caring about the branches that scratched him up as he dropped down to investigate.
For just a moment, Phil wondered if he had mistaken a rock for Techno, before realising that the young piglin’s legs had just been almost buried in snow, with his torso sheltered by an alcove in the rock.
Phil dropped to his knees by the figure, letting out a distraught sob as his hands reached out to the body, shoulders shaking as his hands made contact with cold skin.
“Fuck- Fuck- Techno, please-“ He whispered, carefully pulling the young piglin to his chest, tears finally spilling down his cheeks when he reached a hand up to hold the back of the child’s head.
Time seemed to stop, then, Phil’s chest heaving with uneven sobs as he continued trying to warm the piglin up. The wind was beginning to die down.
“I’m sorry.” He found himself repeating, over and over as he cradled his son in his arms, holding him tight enough to make his ribs ache.
Midnight wings had wrapped around them both, hiding them both from the world as the avian’s sobs died down into silent shaking. He felt drained, his hysterical strength having died down into nothing the second he realised how cold his son was.
“Dad?” A weak, scratchy whisper caught his attention, and he almost believed he was imagining it, before he felt the body in his arms strain against him a little.
“Techno- Techno!” Phil breathed, pulling back just enough to look into the barely-open eyes of his son.
“You’re here.”
“I am- I am, I always will be, Okay? I promise you that.”