The pitter of hooves against the soft netherrack floor echoed around the small boy. The young hybrid was sprinting, the sound of the angered hoglin driving him forward.
It was the crimson fungus in his arms, of which he had been foraging for himself, which was leading the beast behind him. His chest heaved as he sprinted throughout the crimson trees surrounding him. Long weeds sprung up from the nylium, forcing the boy’s steps to be cautious. However, his strides were long since he was pretty agile.
He dodged around every large tree, slinking his way through the crimson vines which hung low, brushing against his shoulders as he ran.
The forest’s edge was growing near. The uneven ground caused the hoglin behind him to stumble, giving the young hybrid a bit of time.
He broke through the thick vines and vegetation, leaving him entirely in the open of what was dubbed the Wastelands, where there was nothing but netherrack for miles. This is where the piglins spent most of their time, and he instead prefers to stay in the Nether Fortress.
His eyes fell upon the many groups of three or four Piglins stood. One in particular immediately began to react to the sight of the blonde.
One immediately reacted, a female piglin. Tommy could already tell who she was. The eldest was Clara, the piglin who had basically raised the hybrid since he was a child.
The youngest could only smile as he saw her, Clara ripping her crossbow from her back. She raised it, aiming at the hoglin that was chasing the young boy.
The blonde ducked, watching as she fired, the arrow piercing the hog’s rough skin, causing it to howl in pain. The youngest stumbled back to his hooves, beginning to trot to the two.
«For the love of gods, kid,» Clara grunted, «stop running into trouble.»
The blonde out let out a happy grunt, lifting the leather bag of mushrooms he had set out to get.
«Look what I got!» The young blonde said excitedly, completely ignoring the concern in the eldest’s tone.
She let out a low huff in response. Knowing the boy didn’t care about the consequences. Clara moved on from the subject. She thought she’d taught him better. This hybrid boy, who she had never truly given him a name, started to only refer to him as Kid, or Son, was quite the sight. A piglin faun, having the legs of any other piglin, but the upper half a human. His hair was nearly the same color as his fur, dirty blonde hair that covered the back of his neck. It was unevenly cut, only being able to be tripped with Clara’s golden sword. That same ragged hair covered two pointed ears, which both held a few golden piercings. Accessories were quite crucial to piglins, Clara having similar piercings in her ears.
That wasn’t the only accessories they wore, however. Clara had a ring around one of her tusks, which sat comfortably along with the long canine teeth. The blonde also wanted one like it. However, his tusks were much too small, only peaking out through his lips.
Clara began to walk, letting the young blonde follower behind her.
«Going to the fortress?» The eldest asked, the blonde looking up to her.
«Yeah, you coming with?» the blonde hummed.
«I need to get to the warped forest, and considering it's the only bridge over, I suppose I am,»She said with a joking sneer. Piglin communication was simply an amalgamation of grunts and various animalistic noises; they would call this piglin tongue in the Nether.
The blonde let out a soft giggle as he began to trot, Clara quietly trailing behind him. The younger simply trotted along, opening the leather bag, picking out some of the crimson mushrooms, quietly nibbling on them, even offering one to the other, which she gladly accepted.
Trotting along a path that had been patted down by the many hooves which walked it, they made their way to what was called a Fortress.
It was enormous, towering over any mob which resigned in the Nether. Large pillars of dark nether brick held up paths of intersecting paths, which would hold different rooms. The fortress was suspended over a large lava lake, being the only path from the wasteland to the warped forest on the other side.
This is where the blonde lived, by himself. His only ‘roommates’ were the wither skeletons and blaze that roamed the halls. They weren’t much of a bother; the only time the hybrid wished they weren’t there was if the skeletons woke him from a nap with their bones grinding together.
The blonde began to make his way up the stairs that led up to the fortress, Clara continuing after him.
«You never showed me where you stay. Are you sure you’re comfortable here?» She asked the younger. Despite raising him in his younger years, ‘Kid’ ended up living by himself by ten.
The two made their way down the main bridge, leading to the other side of the lava lake. Clara would just be heading straight, but the hybrid would be splitting off soon.
The two came to a crossroads, the two stopping. Clara looked to the blonde, patting his back.
«Alright, stay safe, okay, Kid?» Clara said with a grin to the boy waving as she continued to walk off.
He turned on the crossroads, beginning to trot down the path which branched off to the right. He soon entered a covered pathway, following the trail he had left to find his way back to his home.
His home was nothing but a small pocket under the stairs. It wasn’t a lot, but it’s where he had been staying for nearly two years. However, the sound of a blaze caught his attention.
The boy’s eyes perked open as he slowed, glancing around to figure out where the pained blaze cries were coming from.
Following the sound led him to one of the many blaze spawners, cages that held the essence of a mob and would produce more of the said mob if one were to die.
He peeked around the corner, attempting to see whatever was causing the noise. Only to be greeted with an arrow whizzing past his face.
It caused him to yelp, immediately stumbling back, tripping over his hooves. The sound of chains and metal dragging against the ground grew closer and closer. The blonde felt himself freeze as the large figure stood over him— horror washing over his face.
The man wore a pig skull mask, covering most of his face. The only thing the boy could see was a bit of his skin around his neck and collar bone, pale skin showing through. He wore royal attire, a large mantle covering his shoulder. Under that, he wore a loose dress shirt and loose pants, which were tied at his knees, revealing that he, too, had similar piglin legs to the boys. It was quite the contrast from the younger hybrid, who wore a loose shirt and pants that were torn and tattered.
The figure stared down at him, the boy unable to read any emotion in the black divots of eyes that stared down at him.
The creature’s hand reached out, revealing a human hand, with a few noticeable differences: sharp claws, golden rings around three of his five digits, connected by golden chains. If the boy weren’t terrified, he would be enamored by the gold, but even now, fear drove him.
His eyes flicked from the man’s hand to the pig skull mask once again before he finally felt himself start to stand. He pushed himself back onto his hooves and run. He had never been this scared, never felt this much of an adrenaline rush, even when a herd of hoglin’s were chasing him. He felt himself begin to dodge around each corner in an attempt to lose the stranger. The long hallways led him to a dead-end, the boy skidding to a stop.
The pathway was fallen off, dropping down into the lava below. He felt his chest heave, the boy sliding up against the wall. He grasped onto himself, peaking around the corner. He felt his heart drop; at the end of the hall stood the figure, silently walking down the hallway, his eyes locked on the blonde.
He was cornered.