SQDSMP

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The lights in the room woke Wilheim up. 
His door was open, and Matern was nowhere to be seen. The only trace of Emissary having lain there was the slight scent of ocean that was left in the room. 
Gods, he loved that smell.

Groggily he shook the sleep from his limbs and swung his legs over the side of the bed, and got out of his comfortable sweater, and put his suit back on. It was difficult to sneak away each night and clean it, but he wasn’t a spy for nothing. Thankfully the whole cycle only took around an hour and a half, so it was like he’d never left. 
After getting dressed fully, he placed his hat on his head, completing his look, and headed out, munching on an apple. 
The quiet ambience of the underground home was lost the second he got up to the top, where Strawberry was chasing Emissary with his hammer, with Matern cheering Strawberry on from atop the nether portal. Emissary was rather quick, but Strawberry’s little legs moved furiously as he caught up, grabbing onto Emissary’s tail, sending them both crashing into the sand.
Wilheim leaned against the post at the bottom of the stairs, the brief moment of panic as he thought Strawberry had entered a murderous sniffer rage, vanishing.
He chuckled as they pulled themselves up from the sand, dusting themselves off, and finally noticed him standing there. Both Matern and Emissary jumped towards him, each giving him a kiss on the cheek, to say good morning.
“How did you sleep?” Matern asked quietly, her tail curling ever so slightly around his ankle, the softness of the brush tickling a little. 
“Not badly.” Wilheim responded, his hand creeping across her back to hold her waist, her warmth staying close to him. “I’ve slept so much better alongside both of you.”
Matern leaned her head on his shoulder, as they watched Strawberry and Emissary switch roles, with Emissary preparing to chase. 
They sat on the barrels by the enchanting table, and Wilheim noticed some grey clouds coming over from the distance. 
He felt very cold.
He shuffled up along the barrels, to share Matern’s warmth more, but she wasn’t there.
Wilheim’s head snapped to the side as he checked to see if she’d moved, but she just wasn’t there. There wasn’t even imprints on the sand where her feet were. 
Wilheim’s blood ran cold. 

Thankfully, no amount of good days would ever stop him from carrying a weapon. 
He drew a sword, Honor Bound, holding it in his main hand, and called them all.
“Matern!” He yelled, a note of fear in his voice. “Where did you go? Matern!!” 
He waited for a reply, anxiously praying for a reply. 

When none came, he called for- “Strawberry! Strawberry, it’s Wim! Pa Wim!” 
When usually, Strawberry would come charging from whatever direction, the wind only blew through empty undergrowth, no cheeky sniffer eggs in sight. “Strawberry!!!!” He cried, one last time. And still, nothing.

The clouds came over, the sky turning dark.

“Emissary…” he whimpered, his sword falling from his hand. “ROS- EMISSARY!!!” He screamed to the winds, looking out at the choppy waves beating at the side of his sugarcane farm. “EMISSARY!!” His voice cracked with desperation, and he broke down, heavy sobs racking his entire body, falling to his knees at the edge of the dock.

“I thought-” He gasped, as cold rain started falling, his tears the only warmth on his body, as they streaked down his cheeks.
“I thought you’d be the last one to leave me.” He whispered to the waves. He held his hand in the cold water, as it lapped at his hand, none of the comfort that Emissary would bring alongside him. 

He wanted them all. He wanted to feel the soft fur of Matern’s tail on his legs as she lay sleeping, and feel Emissary’s pale hand on his chest, and Strawberry’s incessant wriggling which he would give the world to experience again. He wanted Emissary’s kind eyes, and lovely hair, and Matern’s cheeky sparkle, and caring nature, and Strawberry’s enthusiasm and will to survive.

But he just sat on the barrel, quietly crying, rocking back and forth, whispering their names over and over again as if that would help bring them back. 

“Please, be a dream. Please be a dream. Please be a dream please-” he wept. “I couldn’t even say goodbye, I couldn’t hold them- I couldn’t-”

Thunder crashed, and lightning struck, and there was a figure in the rain. 
A tall, hatted figure, with a cloak, a bolt of a sword poking out from it, and a small axolotl at its feet. 
It stared at him, and Wilheim looked at it, heartbroken.

It just stared.
SQDSMP

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