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TrebleStudios-Don't Starve Fan Art


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Hey, all! Thought I should post this in advance seeing as I'll forget xD

As you may know, KoW is almost over, so I just want to thank you all for the kind words and support while making this. You all really make me feel like I'm appreciated. Thank you all so much!

Also, I do have a Skype account. So If you have any questions about this story or DS related, or anything(I do art tutorials as well if you would like to see how I get things done,) send me a PM, and I will do my best to help you all!

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Hey I'm late for your last chapter, but I still want to praise it and tell you how much I liked it! :D I was expecting blood... But not that much!! haha Really had that feeling of death that winter symbolizes. 

 

(teehee at a certain angle it looks like Maxwell has long elf shoes on. xD)

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Wilson soon discovered, however, that the power and euphoria that he had previously felt didn't last long. As he walked unsteadily through the cold woodland, and grew farther from the demon's seat, those feelings began to fade. When the euphoria dissolved, Wilson began to feel the elements, mental and physical, creeping in on him. His feeling of power left him as well, and he felt just as defenseless and weak as he had before. He shivered, coughed, and wiped his nose on his gloves.

 

The Throne, Wilson reasoned, was like a drug. When under its power, you feel numb. The elements had no effect on whoever sits in the Throne. Nothing can harm you with demons at your command. 

 

Wilson shivered again and wrapped the coat more tightly around him. He began to feel ill, lightheaded and nauseous. Staggering, Wilson approached and leaned on a tree. He breathed deep as he gazed at the moonlit snow. The midnight sun provided enough light to help him navigate, but Wilson truly had no idea where he was going. A single tear fell as he looked to the sky. He was back to square one, where he had started, cold and alone. The sight of these stars was the only form of peace the scientist could squeeze out of this unforgiving wilderness. And for the moment, he embraced it. He clutched at the coat as he shivered again before looked down at it. It seemed as though he had just realized whom the piece of clothing it belonged to, for he glared at the coat in distaste as though it were the owner himself. But he dared not take it off; he feared the cold. 

 

“This is all your fault,” he sniffled, adjusting it about his shoulders.

 

Wilson looked back up at the stars. They mocked him as they shone comfortably from their place in the sky. He cast his bloodshot eyes back to the ground as he moved on, shivering and sniffling. For a while, all he heard was the crunching of the snow as he walked, and all he could smell(of he could at all) was the chill pine around him. His death-like state was suddenly brought to life, for the crunching began to turn into a sloshing, and the smell of the pine became blood.

 

stars__king_of_winter_page_19_by_trebles

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