#day 9.a

[days-until-burnout]

🎨 Day 9 (a) -

Characters - Etho Words - 520 Time - 15 mins Content - Hermitcraft | fluff (?)

On his way home from the shopping district, a ribbit pulls Etho out of his head. He looks around, between trees, around the bases of them, then for whatever reason, he looks up to the branches. Some sunlight stream through, but no sigh of a potential friend. The small ribbit, ribbit, ribbit that he begins to chase. His ears flicker at the sound, sharp and attentive for another ribbit, then another. His steps are silent, muffled on soft grass. There is stuff to do, builds and blueprints to make, and his pockets are heavy with materials too. But like a predator, he chases the sounds, thinking for a second that this could be a horn, his fellow hermits pranking him. 

Fear not, however, because he finally finds the source, near a pond. A little guy, colored green that throat its chest in another croak. He smiles under the mask, eyes crinkling as he tilts his head playfully. His tail swipes at the grass in a low, slow flicker. He raises his hand a little, almost shy to be caught greeting a frog. Of all mobs, a frog. He sighs, closes his eyes as he tilts his head in the other direction, wondering why he cares about it. If the frog becomes his pet, then it wouldn’t be weird, right? Additionally, his base is getting kinda lonely. Growing all around him, extending, yet he remains the same. The space grows bigger and bigger, which makes it all the more lonelier too. 

Ribbit. Ribbit. Ribbit. 

Big eyes stare at him, or the space on either side of his head, he doesn’t remember exactly how frog vision works. There is a book on it at home, probably, in the mess of books and notebooks somewhere in his base. He stares right back at it, its glossy eyes and relatively round body. He really wants it as a pet, if only because, well, honestly there is no actual reason other than childish desire. 

He crouches, crossing his arms on his knees as his tail lays flat on the ground. It swipes at the grass leisurely, remembering the nice warmth of a sunny day, prompting his mind to remember all the things he still needs to do. He tugs his mask down, smiles at the frog. 

“If you’re here tomorrow, I’ll take you home, promise,” he says quietly, like a promise of sorts. The frog blinks, left then right, left then right, then it croaks. It’s not really an answer he understands, but Etho decides to assume that it’s a deal between them. Today, he will get all his chores done; later today, he will prepare a little spot for the frog; and tomorrow, if the frog is still around, he will take it home. He nods to himself, plan set, so he stands up, pulls his mask up. “Stick around, okay? Don’t go too far or I won’t be able to find you. Or do. You’re probably better on your own, huh?”

Etho chuckles, hums then steps back and around on his feet, re-starting his way home with a renewed bounce in his steps.  _____

i went a lil insane. again. anyhoe, is this is the so called artist-writer solidarity i've been hearing about? i hope so! also, yeah, tags and all that. sorry to the people who dont want to see this because it appears on their fav tag ig. i am honestly in no rush to sort out my tagging lol

You ever find a frog on your way home from groceries?

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