Grian Centric Oneshots - Hermitcraft

Yellow Name

     He woke up. He? What was his name? It was on the tip of his tongue. Every time he tried to grasp it, it slipped through his fingers. After fruitless attempts, he caught one letter. R. With it, R brought G and I. Rig? Irg? Gri? Gri. That felt right. Sort of. It wasn't quite it. Like he only got half of it. But it was good enough for him. Good enough for Gri. 

     Gri looked around for the first time, surprisingly. He was surrounded by soft grass and trees. Oak. And some that were darker, but looked similar, excepting the size. In a stroke of genius, he dubbed them "Dark Oak."

     A few flowers dotted the area, vibrant reds and yellows. Pushing himself from the ground, he wandered to a yellow flower. As he bent down to pick it, something caught his eye. It was dark and rectangular.

     A worn leather book sat peacefully next to the flower. Looking around for a moment, he bent over and picked it up. A leather strap kept it shut, but, picking at it for a few minutes, he got it open. 

     After flicking through the yellowed pages, his face showed only that shock. Perhaps a bit of a smirk. Well, wasn't this going to be fun? 

     A strike of thunder, and his left wrist began to burn. Not before hissing in pain, he pulled up his sleeve. Numbers on his wrist flicked from six, to four, to two. Eventually, his number landed on a glowing, yellow two. Another strike of thunder and his wrist seared with pain again, now showing a glaring "two lives."

     Fuck. Now, Gri wasn't one to curse. Despite not knowing much, he knew that. But two lives? Really?

     Gri had to get moving. That he knew. According to the book, there were other people here. The grass tickled his feet that he had only now realized were bare. That's when Gri realized he hadn't really got a look at himself. He looked down at his body. 

     He wore no shoes, but grey jeans and a red jumper. He liked the way the jumper felt when he moved his body, the soft fabric caressing his arms. Same with the grass tickling his feet. He was unlikely to wear shoes for a while. Touching his face, he realized that he had feathers surrounding his ears. Somehow, only then did he realize he had colorful parrot wings protruding from the back of his jumper. The primaries were, regrettably, clipped, removing any chances of flight.

     As he chose to get walking again, a breeze blew his fluffy, strawberry blonde hair into his eyes. Sweeping his hair away, he climbed over hills and squeezed between trees. 

     A tall, beautiful mountain caught his eye, and he stopped to marvel at it. He decided that this was where he was going to settle. A noise to his left frightened Gri a bit, but he relaxed when he didn't see anything.

     He did, however, tense up again when he saw fiery red hair moving. It looked like a zombie. But it looked... friendly? And it wasn't burning in the daylight, either. Only one word for it came to mind. Cleo. A few memories came rushing back to Gri, fading away instantly after they ended. Gri did gather three things from it, though. First, that Cleo was his friend. She wasn't his closest friend, but they were still his friend. Second, he must have closer friends if Cleo wasn't his closest. And finally, his name was Grian.

     Grian. He liked that name. It felt bright and sunny. It just... fit, too. 

     Grian sighed. He was going to have to get working on his base if he wanted to survive the night, the sun growing ever lower in the sky.