Tommy sat at the edge of the river, absently throwing stones into the seemingly endless waters before him. Cross-legged, the wind blew through his blonde hair, some strands stiff with mud. It had gotten far too cold to go into the river, so Tommy had to either deal with the shock of the frigid liquid, or he had to deal with the grime caked on his body.

Tommy had been bored out of his mind, coming to terms with not ever having anymore human interaction aside from Dream.

He grimaced. Threw another stone. The splash angrily sputtered back onto the shore.

Tommy was angry at the man, sure, angry in general, even. He had been abandoned by every last one of his friends, those who he cared for. Not to mention that his /best friend/ had chosen this fate for him. Tommy bit his lip and tensed. He felt like crying. He often did when he thought of Tubbo; though he had gotten all of his tears out a long time ago.

No one cared about him anymore, even acknowledged his existence for that matter. As sad as it was, Tommy had gotten used to being alone. Alone with his thoughts, alone with his emotions, alone with himself. Aside from his exponential visits from Dream, of course. Tommy didn’t care for those, though, aside from when he felt really isolated.

Tommy brought his knees to his chest, burying his face into his legs and wrapping his arms around himself.

Right now, he felt really isolated.

He just wanted a friend, a real friend. He forgot all about what that feels like, trying to block it out of his memory entirely.