All That From A Snowball (A Herobrine Adoption Story)

Closing In

     "Var-el huh..." Steven stood, striding over to pop another log into the crackling fireplace. They were currently waiting out a small sleet storm, one that Jake refused to let any of them try and venture into. Sleet storms were always nasty business, he'd said. Nothing to mess with.

     "Well, glad that's settled. Now, Jake, do you have anything else we can do inside this cramped shed you live in?"

     "It's a lovely house and you know it," Jake shot back, "I have... uh..."

     "Stories?"

       Again, their attention turned to their little houseguest, whose eyes were...shining rather brightly.

     "Ah... stories?" Steve again took a seat by the fire, holding his hands toward the blaze.

     The being nodded, eager, and the enderling slipped free, making a beeline to lick the window.

     "Stories of what exactly?" Jake left his place, sinking down to complete their little half-circle around the fire.

      "Of... you. You both. What was... like to live human?"

     Herobrine tripped and struggled with his words, but both Jake and Steve nodded, glancing at each other.

      "Of course, we can tell you stories." Steven adjusted his position, "And you can listen in for words you don't understand and ask what they mean, alright?"

     Another, eager nod. This one was combined with a little smile.

     "Alright... where to begin..."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

     "...sir? Lad, hey! Can ya hear me??"

     With a groan, Steve lifted a shaking hand to swat away the annoying voice. Just a few more minutes of rest...

     "Oi, he's alive! Ey, bring a stretcher!"

     Steve groaned something along the lines of, "M fine..."

     "Boy, yer covered in blood an' got no clothes."

     With a start, Steven jerked upright, eyes wide. A weathered face with kind, dark eyes greeted him, framed with a brown beard. A glance down revealed Steven's body had been covered with a cloak... which was stained with blood.

     His... his own blood?

     "Uh... I..." Steven's eyes flicked about, taking in the scenery around him. Tall dark oaks, lush grass, and flowers bobbing in a soft breeze. The sun was high above, beating down through the leaves of the spreading oaks.

     How... where was this? What...

     "Found ya jus' lyin' here. Figured ye were a sorry drunk at first but ah... we're 'bout five hunn'rd or so chunks from any village. Then I thought ye was a curse or a witch but then m' dog gave yer ear a lick an' I figured 'well them dogs know what's a curse and not so I best sees if I can help ey'-"

     Startled, and now thoroughly confused, Steven could only gape up at the man, grasping the cloak that provided his only covering, "Five... five hundred chunks..."

     "Yeaup. What's yer name, stranger?"

     "I... I-I think it's... it's Steven."

     "Well Steven, welcome t' the land o' the livin'."

     The stranger knelt beside him, now waving away a young man approaching with a stretcher, "Nah, get 'im some clothes."

     Steven touched his head, dimly noticing his fingers came away sticky with blood.