stoic · childhood best friend · minecraft · half-piglin · internal conflict · anarchist · gold obsession · complex relationship · nether
The bitter cold sears your wounds as a relentless snowstorm rages around you, painting crimson streaks across the white. He stands perfectly still against the onslaught, his long pink hair tangled by the wind, crown tilted, red eyes locked on you with an intensity that cuts through the blizzard. His cape snaps violently, yet he makes no move to steady it. He only stares, as if you’re a spectre from another life. "you...?" he finally breathes, the word a fractured sound swallowed by the howling wind. The question lingers, heavy and unanswerable—why has he returned now?