"Tell Me Something I Don't Know," I Asked The Strange Man.

Gävlebocken 26/12/23

Zombie goat!

something that i will always remember of technoblade is how he was kind just for the sake of it.

i will remember him claiming the monopoly sound was too loud for him to hear wilbur when he spoke of techno staying up all night to comfort him when he was sick. i will remember him taking the time to add watermarks for his artists when they themselves forgot. i will remember niki and sophie saying how he always somehow made sure they never felt excluded or neglected and how he would hate it, it would embarrass him when they spoke of his kindness publicly. i will remember him personally dming ponk to thank them for sending a 45-minute video of someone feeding hotdogs to raccoons in chat and timestamping his favorite part. i will remember his love for the people who created for him, how he would keep his mentions on for everyone before his fanart tag was formed and would just scroll and scroll to make sure not to miss any art someone made for him. i will remember half his friends and peers having some kind of a story of him reaching out to them during tough days, reassuring them, believing in them, making them feel loved.

i will remember him in every act of kindness i receive and i will remember him during times in my life when i will need to remind myself to be kind despite it all.

"What's that shiny and long blade of grass you use called?"

He looked down as he hesitated.

When he looked up, he answered as if he was trying to melt the frost with his touch, "It can be called a 'blade' but for me, it's a broadsword."

"You can hurt people with that, right?" I asked him. It didn't look that dangerous to me if it could.

He lurched back like I hurt him.

"If it came to it, yes," he answered, all the same.

I didn't like that I was going to hurt something but I picked a blade of grass.

"Do you want to know what I can do with this?" I twirled the blade between my fingers.

He just looked at me odd.

I held the blade the way the nymphs taught me and blew some air. The shrill sound caught him off guard. Laughter overcame me like the abrupt rain the area we're in is known for.

"Will you teach me how to do that?" he asked when I calmed down enough to talk.

It was at that moment that I realized that I would do what I could for him like I would for any of my plants back at home.

"It would be my genuine pleasure," I replied with a smile.

We were at the base of a stone tree made by men. The tree had stiff branches all the way at the top. But what held the attention of the man beside me was a stone in the tree. There were markings but I couldn't understand them.

"What do they say?" I asked before I reached out.

He took my hand as gentle as he could.

"It says, 'Bitter are the wars between brothers.' It is a proverb from ages past."

"But why is it here?" There was an unspeakable pain in his eyes. Why was he hurt? Was it because of the proverb?

"The king put this here as a reminder of what happened, I imagine," he answered, leading me away after taking one last good look at the stone.

I am a mosaic of everyone I have ever known and loved and touched and I find fragments of them in my playlists and how I make my tea. we may not know each other any more but we will stay connected like this. I hope a fragment of me is with you too.

The gentle king was surrounded by many children, as if he himself was one.

No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't hold in my tears.

Why was it that I couldn't have that? Why did I have to be feared?

I closed my eyes and shook my head. I was getting emotional over a picture used to tell tales to children.

Through foggy eyes, I looked back at the kind; fabled king. Why couldn't he be real?

"How did you find me?" I slurred, the cold freezing me from the inside out.

"I followed the trail you left," he answered before he gestured somewhere behind him. "Come here," he groaned as he picked me up.

I clung to him like burs on bark animals and other people wear. He wasn't much warmer than the elements we were stranded in but he was an improvement.

"Did you know that you are bleeding?" my stranger asked me, taking me somewhere.

My mind was too fuzzy to completely understand what he was talking about.

"But you're not bleeding," I blended my words together, after I have him a quick once over as best as I could. Why would he ask if I knew he was bleeding?

"Well, hypothetically if I was a mage like you, I thought you would know how to slow the blood loss down?"

My upper canopy hurt. Why was he asking such difficult questions?

"You would need something to slow it down," I mumbled as I tried to clear my thoughts. "Before that, clean the wound."

He settled me down on a fallen log and then started rummaging through his bag. When he faced me again, he had some white strips and a dirt colored bottle.

"Try not to scream, okay?" He looked back up at me with his cyan colored eyes. His scar on the lower part of his face were sharply contrasting from the fire's light.

Wait. Why was there a fire? Where was the fire?

The sharp jolt that assaulted my left limb was enough to make me cry out in surprise. He didn't let up, if anything, he pressed harder. The cloth he was using was starting to turn green, the color of my sap, at the edges.

I stayed quiet like he asked but when he was done, he pulled a mat made out of pine branches, covered it with some furs, placed me on the mat, and then covered me with the remaining furs.

"Don't worry, I'll keep watch. You rest," he answered when he saw me looking at him.

The last thing I felt was my stranger running his branches through my hair before I fell asleep.

Author's Note- I have never experienced either but I am trying to write a character who is suffering from at least enough hypothermia for the mental fog but not bad enough for a doctor and blood loss. But then again it might be mild hypothermia and the added blood loss might create the mental fog.

The ocean hissed and fizzed as it was slowly approaching high tide. It was freezing out but I just needed time to think.

Out further by the ocean, I could see some aquatic fae sunbathing. Their clothes very closely resembled how the beach and ocean looked at all times. The girls were in dresses while the boys were in suits.

This is one of the times I wish that I could be as carefree as they seem.

I'm not shirking on my duties, I just get tired of what inevitably comes during the night.

Speaking of the night, it was approaching and I had to go leave.

"Hey, pretty girl," I murmured to the Púca I adopted when she was a small filly.

She grunted a quiet greeting before she came up to me. She grabbed a bit of the fabric on my shoulder and gave it a gentle tug.

"How long has it been since I last saw you?"

She whinnied but let go of my shoulder.

"Since yesterday?" I gave a fake frustrated sigh, "That's too long!" I hugged her around her neck. Her fur was coarser than that of other horses and ponies I've met but I wouldn't change anything about her. The other ones are nice but they aren't her.

She nudged me enough to take a small step back, reminding me why I originally came down to visit her.

"Do you want a snack?" I asked her. "Snack?"

She nuzzled me a bit harder.

"Which hand is the snack in?" She was always a smart girl.

She stood there for a moment before nudging my right shoulder. I rolled the apple to my right hand and held it out to her.

"Smart girl," I murmured as she ate the apple. I rubbed her ears just the way she likes it. "I'm going to talk to my big, fat, mean brother to see if I can't bring you into the court so I can give you all the love and rubs you want." I couldn't stop a soft chuckle. "He isn't big, fat, or mean."

The Púca I've known since she was a filly nickered in agreement. She's met my brother and likes him well enough but still doesn't like how he keeps her from me.

"You be nice to him the next time you see him, okay?" I murmured against her forehead.

My therapist just told me my problem is that I need to write more fanfiction.