Gold and dragon feathers

Shower of silver tears

Tommy is numbly aware of the instructions Wilbur is giving him.

Maybe too successful in his quest to avoid thinking, Tommy has found himself stuck as an observer to his own body.

He followed Wilbur all the way to some random house in the middle of nowhere carved from quartz and waited for the piglin hybrid to re-emerge from inside but it doesn't feel like he did any of it. His instincts must have taken the reins.

"You'll then need to just follow the train tracks. If you get lost or tired, wait on top of a train station while I finish up here."

Following a list of verbal directions is far from Tommy's strong suit but it looks like he's going to have to try. He huffs in an attempt to put himself back in charge with his body.

"Ugh, I can't believe they told me not to go with you "

Wilbur bristles anxiously but Tommy doesn't know what he's talking about. His instincts have already latched onto the directions home. The only thing keeping him from taking off is the small greenish blue capsule in Wilbur's waving hands.

In theory it contains liquid magic but it looks like something he shouldn't eat. Wilbur offers it to him.

"Ok here you go, remember, try not to break it until you're home"

Ah, that's right. Wilbur warned him that when his body gains enough magic to shift it likely will immediately. Unless he wants to be flying all of that distance with wings he's not sure are strong enough to actually fly (and tell the entire world that dragon hybrid exists).

He chirps, trying to make it a comforting sound but Wil just frowns at him.

"Promise you'll be careful"

Tommy would have rolled his eyes if he wasn't on the verge of a breakdown but in the reality of his situation he just nuzzles the piglin hybrid and takes the capsule carefully. It feels so fragile but he does his best.

He gives Wilbur one more glance, trying to project how thankful he is, before leaping into the air in the direction he hopes the train tracks are.

He's grateful that his mind is quiet for the next hours of flying. Keeping his teeth from bursting the magic capsule taking up most of his conscious effort.

His instincts take over most decision making, finding a heavily wooded area or two to take a breather.

By the time a familiar mountain begins to emerge from the horizon, the sun not only rose but it began to sink again.

Regrettably, he finds his wings starting to give out and he has to land again.

Birch trees stretch above him as he clumsily returns to his feet. He folds his wings tightly and finally lets himself catch his breath.

Unfortunately, like the times before, as soon as he doesn't have to juggle keeping his jaws from locking and flying at the same time, the numbness starts to retreat.

He collapses against the frostbitten grass, looking up at the shadow in the distance. He's almost home.

Everything is almost over.

Unlike the other breaks he's taken, his surroundings are not all unfamiliar.

He's seen these trees in the distance while flying on a clear day, seen furnichure carved from wood taken from only hours through the darker wooded trees that make up most of Snowchester's surroundings.

Tears sting his eyes, unable to fall from his inhuman eyes but painfully present.

What happens now?

He's ruined everything with his negligence. Tubbo's probably made it home by now and with his arrival the tiny grain of hope that he can pretend he's been there the whole time that remained even after the letter finally shrivels up.