All That From A Snowball (A Herobrine Adoption Story)

The Dangers of Cutting Ice

          Jake was breathing heavily, shaking his head and making a 'silence' motion, "He-he..." the hunter whispered.

          Steve turned around fully, running a hand through his short, brown hair, "Spit it out, Jake, what?"

           Jake shushed him, "Shh! That-that guy I thought was you...he—"

          "What? He what?" Steve's voice dropped to a whisper as well. This wasn't good. If Jake had ticked the guy off, well, there was a convenient cliff at the back of the house just perfect for throwing people off of.

          "He's outside! On the roof!" Jake hissed.

          Steve cast his eyes up, raised a brow, and looked again at Jake, "Is...he breaking in?"

          "N-no, but—"

          "Setting things on fire?"

          "No..."

          "So he's just...sitting there?" Steve looked again at the ceiling. Huh, maybe Jake hadn't entirely screwed things up.

          "Yeah..." Jake rubbed the back of his neck, looking down sheepishly. His cheeks were red from the cold and his fright, "Actually, he appeared to be...asleep. He was on his back..."

          Steve let a quiet chuckle escape him, though it was more of a rumble, "Pfff...asleep eh? Maybe it's a sign of goodwill?" Steve began to laugh at the sheer absurdity. He'd heard of the man before, but nothing of what he looked like, besides the eyes. Steve hadn't been one to completely ignore the myths and legends and had heard some tales about a fabled demon who reveled in blood and suffering. However, the simple act of falling asleep on someone's roof had him laughing. If this was the so-called demon, whoever had come up with the stories needed to get his facts straight, this guy had yet to hurt them, "I need to see this." He walked over and reached for his coat.

          Jake grasped his arm, eyes wild, "No! What if...that's wh-what he wants...?"

          Steve raised a brow, "Jake, he could have killed us in our sleep. If he hasn't killed us yet, I doubt he will now." He shook off Jake's hand and again reached for his coat.

          As he dressed, Jake still looked anxious, "Steve, have you even heard of the legends? How he's killed without mercy, just because he wishes to?" His voice had dropped again to a whisper, and his brown eyes kept shooting upward glances.

          Steve scoffed, wrapping his white scarf about his neck, "Psh, if he truly did do that, he would have hunted you down as you were unaware and out, waiting to pelt me with a snowball." The miner sat to pull on his boots and lace them, then stood, buckling on his iron sword, "He may just be curious about us; therefore, I want to have a closer look at him, analyze him, maybe even see if he's a threat."

           Jake dragged a gloved hand down his face, "Fine, but I'm going with you to say, 'I told you so' as he's ripping us apart."

          Steve chuckled, "Fine by me." And reached for the door.

          He shoved the door open with little effort, prompting Jake to mutter, "Show-off." Steve smirked over his shoulder and tramped outside, the cold nipping at his face and freezing his breath before him as the snow made soft crunching noises beneath his boots. He saw the chaotic tracks of his friend from before, making him smother a grin. The snow was all churned from when the trapper had scrambled back to the house in a panic.

          The sun was just cresting the mountains before the cabin, a pale glow surrounding it. Large clouds dotted the icy blue sky, signaling the arrival of even more snow soon. The forest was, as usual, silent except for the noises Steve made.   The miner took a second to stop and admire the beauty about him. The tundra's cold, unforgiving beauty never got old to him. The dimmed smell of pine mixed with the smoke coming from Jake's chimney. Steve took a deep breath of the chill morning air, exhaling it again in a cloud of white. It was good to be alive.