Tommy should have known running away from Exile was stupid, Dream was going to kill him when he found out. Maybe he shouldn’t back and he’s get in less trouble - no, no Dream would be angry either way, so he just had to keep trudging and pulling himself along through the heavy snow and bitter wind.

His eyes weren’t the only thing beginning to feel heavy,

He trudged through the snow, trying to find shelter. But the longer he walked, the more impossible it seemed. It had been hours, and all he saw was trees, snow, and occasionally, foxes. The cold was getting to him faster. He couldn't even stand up properly. His legs were shaky, his teeth were chattering, and he was slowly freezing despite having a coat on. As he entered a clearing, his legs gave way and he fell onto the snow-covered ground, which was very, very cold.

Tommy’s breathing was unstable. His skin had turned pale. He couldn't move his legs. He wanted to call for help, but his voice wouldn't work. The wind blew hard as he struggled to stay conscious. Please, somebody, help me, he thought as his eyes grew heavy.