#「🦆. everythings all wrong without him . relations : familial / platonic. duck . peskyduck」

[yellowpuppet]

❝ --   You were making sounds in your sleep. It sounded like screaming. ❞   They are crouched at the head of Duck's bed, curiously as their dark eyes, not enlightened with green at this moment, stare down.

❝   It sounded scary. It sounded like you're not sleeping --good. ❞  It definetely didn't sound like Duck's terrible singing this time. / starter @peskyduck

[yellowpuppet]

@peskyduck

[yellowpuppet]

❝ I thought he was a rat with wings - - a pidgeon... , yeah ❞ 

[yellowpuppet]

@peskyduck

[yellowpuppet]

@peskyduck

shh.. they are on a comet ride in Yellow's mind

have this extra doodle i did PFFFT

[yellowpuppet]

❝ F'ank you! ...Do you ever wonder where it started? Where it all come from? Who make - made me and who made them ? And why? Ahuh! ❞

@yellowpuppet

'Well done for your birth. On this day...sometime ago.'

[yellowpuppet]

@peskyduck

[yellowpuppet]

If Duck wasn't screaming before he certainly is now. Squawking loud enough to give Doi a fast headache. They remain crouched at the head of the bed, despite all of Duck's protest. Doi wasn't sure why they felt as if Duck would just dissapear.

They puzzled a moment, if their expression could change it would be evident in their face at least they vocalise it.

❝ --Huh? ❞  Scratching their own head. Duck seemed frantic moments ago why was he now dismissing them?

❝ --I-I couldn't sleep because you w'us making a lot of noise.❞   They pointed out, hugging their own knees. ❝  That one sleep through anything even your bad singing. ❞   They acknowledge the large, red mop-beast in the room, snoring away.

As his body contorts beneath the sheets, feathers fly up in a flurry.

A voice. He bolts upright.

'What?!' He couldn't hear anything over that terrible sound... What is that awful- oh. He'd been screaming. When had that begun? His beak smacks shut, though little whimpers still spill. Shrunken pupils dart back and forth and a feathery hand feels at his chest and stomach. Everything in its place...even the scar.

And then...dark eyes stare down at him. The same dark eyes that-á̷̰̻̯͖̰̇͘t̵̛͔͖̯̞̤͗̒̚e̵̹̹͍͌̓͗̐ ̶̧̩̟̞͑͛̏h̶̠̪̺̖̹̔͛̐͂́i̷͚̗̺̍͂m̸̡̝͕̯̏̽ ̶̢̓̏͆̂̑ͅǘ̶͕̘̭p̴̜̋̑̃̈́

Instinct tells him to run; but pride says conceal. 'Screaming? How dare you! I was- I was' His mind is racing to fast. He cannot come up with anything to disguise his fear. 'Never mind what I was doing.' He huffs. 'What are you doing besides my bed? You should be asleep.'

A quick glance over his shoulder confirms that somehow Red had slept through all of it. 'Like that one.'