The days passed slowly and without much chatter. It got colder and the brothers became more desprate for somewhere to stay, though they didn't dare make a fire during the daytime anymore.

Karl wasn't brought up but he was often on their minds. Tommy found himself rethinking every moment with the older boy, thinking about how differently he should have treated him.

Tubbo was having the hardest time, but he had finally stopped the never ending trail of tears. Tommy was usually by his side, silently comforting him.

Was this worth it? That was the biggest thought in Tommy's mind. He didn't know if he wanted to keep going. First Phil, now Karl, someone was sure to be next, but who?

It sent shivers down his spine when he thought about it.

He suddenly heard loud steps from ahead, almost like something large walking. Twigs snapped and startled Tommy slightly, making him freeze.

His brothers did the same. Tommy watched as Techno got out his dagger- with a small pain of grief Tommy remembered that it had been Karl who bought it for him.

Something white flashed behind a tree, making warnings in Tommy's head go off. There weren't white wolves around here, right?

Something stepped out. First a dark hoof them the head of a horse along with its muscled body. Its fur was white and small, and it let out a small nicker.

"Oh, hello there," someone greeted. Tommy looked up to see a guy with a black hood on, probably to protect himself from the cold. He also had a red-checkered bandana under his chin. Tommy couldn't tell how tall he was because he was on the horse, but he estimated roughly Techno's height. Actually, a bit shorter. "What are you fellows doing here out in the cold?"

Tommy blinked, on guard. He didn't trust him. He squared his shoulders, straightening his back.

"We're travelers," Wilbur answered for the group, looking up at the steed and its master. He had his glasses on, gently sat on his nose. "We don't mean trouble. Just passing through."

Tommy could feel the cold beginning to get to him, rising goosebumps to his arms. If they weren't walking his body couldn't make the heat to keep himself warm.

"Do you need a place to stay for the night?" The man asked, smiling down at the group. None of them got swayed by his cheery nature.

Wilbur shook his head. "No, again, we're passing through. We really should keep moving."

There was something behind his words. The soldiers were catching up every moment they stood still. Tommy didn't know how, but they were tracking them.

Suddenly Tubbo coughed from beside him, sounding almost like a wheeze. He covered his mouth with his elbow, the motions shaking through his body.

Now that Tommy looked at him, Tubbo seemed bad. His face was more red then the rest of the brothers and his eyes had a dull glimmer to them. His shoulders were sagging a bit and when he stopped coughing, he sniffed, showing a stuffy nose.

Fuck. Tubbo was totally sick.

Tommy watched the man frown. "Are you sure? The little guy looks sick. I could just keep you for a while. I can make tea if that helps," he said. "My name is Bad."

Wilbur blinked, seemingly thinking out his options. He made eye contact with Techno, who gave a small nod, before looking up at Bad. "Alright, we'll stay for a bit," he said.

Tommy walked over to Tubbo, putting his arm gently around his shoulders. "You good, man?" He asked him, beginning to follow Bad, who was turning on his horse.

Tubbo gave a small nod. "Y-yeah, I'm alright," the boy agreed, his voice quiet. "I think I just have a cold... o-or a fever..."

The brothers followed Bad, the man keeping up light chatter as they went. The forest slowly turned into quite a big clearing, suprising Tommy a little. He thought it would be miles in any direction before the terrain shifted.

It exhibited hills, turning into plains. Maybe they had traveled farther than they thought. With a pain of grief, Tommy wondered how far away they were from their house.

And from Karl's grave.

He hadn't even had a proper burial. Was his body lying there, slowly decaying? Or had an animal come across him and eaten his dead body?

Tommy felt himself want to cry at the thought of it. Karl didn't deserve that. Poor Karl...

A big house was a bit distant. It looked like it was two stories tall and a stable, probably for horses, was a bit off from it.

Tommy gulped, trying to shove the overwhelming grief down to a pit in his stomach. Focus on other things. Deal with it later.

"Do you owe all of this? It's fucking gigantic," Tommy remarked, looking across the land.

"Hey, language," Bad protested. "I don't like the use of abysmal words."

Tommy snickered. Like that was going to hold up long.

"And," Bad continued, "I do own all of this, yes."

Tubbo broke out in another coughing fit, making worry for the slightly older fourteen-year-old grow in Tommy's stomach. He felt himself freeze with terror when he thought about Tubbo dying.

Tubbo couldn't die. He needed to get better.

The brothers made it inside the large house where this other guy greeted them. His hair was black and he seemed friendly, though he also had an obvious trouble streak. His name was Skeppy- apparently Skeppy and Bad had been divorced fifteen times and married sixteen. Tommy had gotten a good laugh out of that.

They sat Tubbo by a fireplace, willing him to get warm. The brothers huddled there, toasting their backs and hands.

They got mugs of hot chocolate. Nothing had ever tasted better in Tommy's life. It almost made his worries drift away, the smell and flavor of the liquid spreading through his mouth.

Three days passed without any trouble. Tubbo got better and they were laughing again, the memory of Karl still carried with searing pain, but managing to move on a bit. They thought that maybe, just maybe, they had found refuge.

They were painfully wrong.

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