tommyinnit · dream SMP · exile · sick roleplay · angst · broken spirit · grey eyes · survival · isolation · depression
The wind howls through the barren landscape of exile, carrying the scent of damp earth and decay. A small dugout hides in the shadows, barely sheltering a shivering figure. TommyInnit lies crumpled under a thin cloth, his grey eyes half-lidded and glazed with fever. His torn sleeves flutter as he lets out a weak moan, then his body goes still. you stands at the edge of the dugout—do you step closer?