Cotl Prompts Eyyyy

Look at the earrrrrrs, rather pointy I must say.

My brain slowly turns to CoTL character maker

This is Yanne, the second immortal. Lamb from my AU found her in the destroyed village in Anura (Enoki has already become immortal) The little fox was starving alone in the place so Lamb took her to the cult. After some years the adult now fox became the second immortal.

Yanne is an incredible farmer (and also she cooks really good) so she is in charge of food and all fields of the cult. She's cheerful and caring but really impulsive.

Also, Yanne calls Enoki brother (they are not real siblings).

As always, you're free to ask questions!

Soooooo NEW CHAPTER. Around 3k this time, didn't want to cut in before the good part... which still happened in the end so oops?

Anyway, I hope you all enjoy it!!! btw there is Also the return of Ratau in this one :)

I absolutely love the amounts of stuff that can be solved with some esoteric knowledge in this game, I feel like before all the wikis and guides these games made people actually talk to each other to figure out all the absolute nonsense in it.

Also to add my own, you can burn the windmill at the second bonfire of the level with the discount medusa. Which will get rid of the poison out of her arena. BUT also make a previously poison spewing fountain you could unlock, into healing water that cures poison apparently. Seriously I was rather confused the first time I unlocked it with a stone and it just puked poison to my face.

Twitter has had a days long discussion about things they like about dark souls 2 stemming from this post so here's some highlights

Little Leaf

Alright, this is a chapter from my fic ‘The Five Traitors’, the first one in fact. It is about what would have happened if one of the siblings joined Narinder’s rebellion, what would have led them to it and what would come out of it.

I will post this here and the rest when I am done with them all. But I will also add a link to the Ao3 down there if you all wanna read it there instead.

I hope you all enjoy this one (:

His temple was silent. Only wind spoke through it for there were none within. All his once whimsical critters waited outside, orderly assembled and ready, all awaiting their Lord. He tried to laugh, something he hadn’t done in a while, at the irony of it all. He was to lead and order an army. He, Lord of Chaos, was to order his army to fight alongside that of his siblings. An army he had assembled at the order’s of his sibling. However he couldn’t, not even a mirthless chuckle punch through the bottomless perfect melancholy.

No, no he just sat there. A silent lord for a silent temple, neither which were ever so before. Not before their eldest came to him and the rest of his siblings, telling them of the supposed treachery of their brother. Not before they gave the order to form an army to bring him to justice. Not before they took command of each of their cults to train and supply them, to mold them into the same zealots they bred. not before they brought order to his chaos.

Treachery, he thought. He was thinking the way his soon to be punished brother was thinking. He was asking questions where he was to obey, he was trying to reason where he was supposed to show fealty, he was showing chaos where he needed to prove his order. To betray to self to conform.

He ran his fingers through his face, avoiding his eyes from the sharpness of his claws as he drew in a breath. It was the smell of the pines, the ancient stone and the smell of ichor that ran through his eyes that greeted him.

‘’That explains the wet hands’’ he murmured to himself, as he looked down on his hand to see his tear soaked hand. All crimson like the blood of his followers but with an undeniable dark tinge that betrayed its true nature.

He ran his thumb over the rest of his fingers as he felt the sticky liquid of the holy void. As the droplets fell to the stone of his temple, there came new life. Blades of grass with many odd flowers, all in the colours of the stars birthed them all amidst the lifeless stone. But Just as they came to be, they died. All returning back to his brother's domain.

To oblivion, Narinder’s domain. He smiled as he thought of him, the one they were to march to meet in battle today. His smile fell just as quickly as he remembered where he stood in this conflict, this schism. He would be in the ranks of his sister Heket, the Lady of Famine; his brother Kalamar, the Lord of Disease; his sibling Shamura, the Master of War.

All four leaders of the Old Faith would march against their brother Narinder, Lord of Death.

He was to march together with the one who would ridicule him for his very nature, chastise him for the very thing he was gifted to this world to do. The one who would cast all blame for the things she failed to realize in this world as uncertain. The one whose logic would shatter at the mere mention of his chaos.

He was to march alongside a coward. One who he knew for certain would stab them all in the back if they were to fail in the upcoming madness. He who would cast disease amidst them all if it would give him one more moment to escape his fate.

He was to march alongside a sibling he barely knew. One who he had only met a few times before they were taken by their duty, away from him. Sibling who has accused their brother of treachery on a mere premonition, one that rested on an old mind that had been rotting for a milenia. The one who has brought ugly order to his beautiful domain of chaos. The one that has tried  to replace his very nature with their own.

He was to march against his brother. The one that had been by his side since his coming to this earth. The one that has teached him all he knew and all that he wished to know till this very moment. The one that cradled him to his chest in the nights where he found no respite amidst the order of the world. The one he seeked mere days ago, to see if they still carried the same faith for each other deep within them. The one that indeed has, proven by his cold but yet warm embrace that carried no pulse but a true heart that sang with his own. In the days before this one, where he stood in his temple as a brother rather than an enemy as he showed him the true beauty of his nature. No ridicule for what he is, no fear for what he was and no portent for what he will be.

He remembered his erratic heart matching his dead one, as they embraced as if he didn’t know they were to attack his domain soon. He held no contempt for him even then. Just acceptance, as was expected from the kind guide to the afterlife, the shepherd of beyond.

Sounds of water splashing on the hallowed ground shook him away from these holy heretical thoughts. ‘Was that the rain?’ he thought as he looked down on the ground through a haze to see more flowers. He was lucky that his cloak was black he thought as he wiped away the ichor off his face.

He got up, standing tall amidst the silent temple he no longer recognized. Amidst soldiers that were no longer his whimsical cohort. Amidst the sanctified gates of his brother's temple. Amidst the quartet of traitors he dared not call siblings.

Shamura spoke first ‘’Narinder, please understand wh-’’ They were cut by a laugh that reverberated across the defiled temple of his brother. Narinder shook his head as he brought his hand to his face to run it across.

He looked back slowly as his hand went back limb to his side ‘’Please spare us all that, we all know how this is going to go’’ Heket took a step forward with her axe firmly within their hands. He looked at her out of curiosity, to see if she held anything other than contempt. He was given but a moment too be disappointed as Shamura stopped her in her tracks with just one claw.

Shamura wore a tired face, one laced with guilt and shame. He wanted to laugh at that but just like before he couldn’t find enough humor in that. They were the one who has driven them into this, to this very moment. Yet they stood there ashamed, he would ask why if they were so pained could they have just not brought them here?

His hands tightened on the helm of his warhammer as he tried to contain the indignity within his capricious heart. He felt the traitorous tears try to force their way off all five of his eyes, but no. No, he would not shed a single one.

The cry of war took his mind away from his thoughts as the Queen of Anura broke away from the grasp of her sibling’s claw. Away to war she rose, her axe swung over Narinder who swatted it away. Blow for blow they came to each other, strike to strike they tried to best one another. Witnessing the call of battle he tried to move but he couldn’t, he stood there with his hammer still in his hands as both his siblings tried to rip each other to pieces.

Then came the cry of Kallamar who joined the fray. adding his own to the fight that saw siblings spill the blood of one another. With much skill he still swung his swords, each cutting fabric and nothing more as he tried and failed to match their brother’s grace. He tried to look away from the awe inspiring battle that was unfolding in front of him. He couldn’t bear it for he knew, he knew the two would lose.

He looked away to the one hope they still held, to the old spider. He looked at them with scorn he had not felt before, he wanted to shout at them to ask them is this what they have wanted. But more so he wanted them to join so their siblings at least stood a chance against the whirlwind of destruction their brother had always been.

But he was disappointed yet again, for they stood still. As the carnage took place all around they stood still as the pillars of stone around. Looking at the fight with cold dead pity. He felt his claws puncture his hands as he clutched his hammer more firm as he marched into the fray too.

He swung his hammer, not to his brother nor to his siblings, but to all of them at once. For he was chaos, he bore no allegiance that could last with obedience alone. He struck the earth where Heket stood for he was chaos, he cared not for safe logic. He casted bolts of lighting almost at random that were dodged by Kallamar for he was chaos, for he was untamable.

All became a haze as the fight grew to an odd free for all, the chaos in which he thrived. Alliances were formed; where one struck, where the other deflected just to switch. Where one who came to kill, fought alongside the one they came to kill. Where one protected just to stab in the back, where one howled in rage just to bellow a laughter, where all blended together with the ichor of all. All in the colours of the night sky, as they danced together, against; for, spite; with, without one another.

Through each strike he stood true however, he never stayed with an ‘ally’ for long. Always switching at a whim, one moment he saw the teary eyes of Kallamar to then just see the enraged snarl of Heket. Then at the last moment he saw Narinder fighting with a grace he had never seen from another being, be they God or mortal. In that moment he understood, as they carved the ears off of Kallamar, as they tore his sister’s throat. Only he and himself were true to themselves, not to the faith or to their siblings but to themselves. Only he and Narinder stood true as they pummeled and were pelted, striked as they were slashed, dodge as they blocked. He as the harbinger of chaos and his brother as the reaper of souls. True Gods of their domain, not just some bishop to a rigid Faith made by a coward.

Here he stood, facing his brother as the two of his siblings stayed imobile on the ground, both spilling their holy ichor to the temple meant for the true lord of death. He stared down his ally, his enemy, his Lord and his servant. He saw his smile as he held onto his scythe, his smile bloomed into a laugh that warmed him from within.

As he stood with his broken arm, no doubt a gift he himself had given him just a moment ago. He beckoned him with open arms, one lowered slightly from the pain no doubt. He moved to meet him even with his slashed leg, leaking rot and ichor, a gift in kind given to him by his dearest.

It was cold and silent, his fur covered in ichor that smelled of disease, rot and much much more. His heart was quiet but it felt like it beat with fervor they both held for each other, he smiled into his fur as his hands moved to the back of his head. Each of his bony fingers combed against his leaves. There was no need for words as his deep purr talked where words would have failed. He was accepted, just as he accepted him. Chaos and Death held each other as Gods amidst bled.

It was not to last, as it was the nature of both chaos and death. A cry of war came from its master, one that bellowed across the temple, reverberated across the halls just to echo right back at them.

Both took their spots as the dance began again. They were met with grace that made Narinder look like a beetle amidst butterflies. They danced and danced, two beetles trying to outfly a butterfly as it carved them apart. This butterfly wore a mask of anger and indignation however, one that did a poor job of masking their anguish. This butterfly called them ‘traitors’ and ‘heretics’ but they themselves were a traitor to their very nature, a reluctant warrior that carried the crown of war.

They were tired, they were injured, they were losing. It was just a simple fact really, they were going to lose. Narinder blocked a strike just to get cut by the other, his ichor wetting the holy stone. He slashed in return, for it to not bother their sibling. It was like a dance between a blooming rose and a butterfly; so futile, so meaningless, so chaotic and so, so beautiful.

In the end he fell to his knees, and as he watched their sibling sob as they reddied their claws to make their brother meet their end. He could only chuckle. It was not painful, not really. Their sibling’s claws tore his eyes, all two perfect orderly slashes that cut through his eyes meant to gut their brother. He didn’t know how he ran that fast, or how he got up from the ground with his slashed legs. But he did know what he saw in his brother's eyes as he saw him taking the hit for him. Anger and much anguish.

Opposed to their sibling's cut, Narinder’s cuts were haphazard. Many smaller ones riddled their now perished sibling’s body. He kept on cutting it, cursing it as he continued his onslaught.

For eternity it felt like it continued, slash after slash but eventually he returned to him, Like he always would. Cradling his body to their own, his cold fur soothing the pain as he truly laughed for the first time in a long time at the irony of the God of Death healing him. Taking him away further from his own domain as he whispered ‘'I am here little leaf’' soft lips found their way to his forehead as he continued ‘'I am with you’'

https://archiveofourown.org/works/44580424/chapters/112140313

Perhaps you meant *intrigued*

THE LITTERAL CREATIVE DIRECTOR OF CULT OF THE LAMB REPLIED TO ME IM NOT OKAY

That is the exact way I feel whenever you send me an ask honestly.

And this happens, like, ALWAYS

Problems of being shy af

Shasha

Sooooo fourth in the saga. Where we get to see the big spider in the spotlight for the first time since the series start. I am so proud of the old Spider with reallly sharp claws who finally gets to gets to have the stage.

As you might have guessed this chapter is about Shamura and how they went about the ‘joining the traitor’ business.

As usual the link to AO3 is down below if you all wish to read it there. (:

Seen Things that are yet to happen.

Precognition, a window to the future, a look to the will be.

A gift one may call it just as they had done it before now. Long before the accursed day they had peered to a future they wish they had not.

They wanted to call it a curse after seeing the horrors that awaited them. A curse that showed them what would be without a shadow of a doubt.

But yet they couldn’t call it a curse even if they wanted to, for they did not make that future take place but have instead just peered into the ugly truth of what awaited them. So they called it a call for action instead, a call that would not go unanswered.

But yet still, even with the truth of their ability and their need to take action. A part of them still yearned for what their siblings had, the sweet ignorance. But as always even a single fragment of the terrible truth of the future wiped that simple childish wish.

They could not remember every detail of those foggy visions. There was blood, so much and so dark. Spilling against the fair stone of the mountains carved into a temple for death and the dead.

There would be they and their siblings with only them amidst in the pool of their own ichor. before them there would be their dearest. The first sibling they called their own with a blade responsible for this atrocity extended towards their throat.

This is the fate they saw many moons ago befalling them and their most loved.

In the end they knew, they knew no vision of theirs would come false. But they had to try, even if they knew it was futile.

Lost in thought as usual, it took them a moment to realize where they were again. They sighed as they grabbed the railings tightly, grounding themselves against the allure of the terrible visage.

There was a time when their ability was spoken with much splendor, where they would be happy to receive a look into the future. Alas, those days had passed just like the autumn but a month prior.

Shaking their head from side to side, they looked below to their cult and realm, trying to clear their mind. It was, as it always has been dark as far as the eye could see in the low underground tunnels of their home. With only the light of the graceful moon shining above the cracks and fissures aided with the luminescent mushrooms that littered their domain helping carve away the abyss.

It was comfortable to look upon once, to see the unjudging dark enveloping their land. But that was before they had seen their vision, that was before they had learned that the dark did indeed judge. Just in a way none could understand until one was troubled so greatly as they…

Ignoring the dark they focused on the once soothing cold of winter, dulling one’s senses just enough to ignore the pain be it physical or even mental. It gave them much respite once, but now just like the darkness it only elevated their frustration.

Even with all of that, such trivial things as dark or cold could really affect a God even with their new found strength with their frustrations. No, Shamura was not one that was to be bested. Still even with their pride still sung within their heart and a cloak most well, it could not stop the shiver that spawned from their very heart.

Bringing their cloak closer and their eyes away from the dark, they decided that this much night air was more than good enough. With a yawn that came almost naturally they took off to their chambers, they needed rest as expected.

Arriving at Their chambers was simple enough, really the balcony was right outside. Not bothering to disrobe they quickly made their way to their bed, they would not wear them tomorrow anyhow and it was not as if they had no other robes they could use.

Sliding into the sheets, comforting silk met their body, warm and unrestricting. Almost as if on the clouds themselves they wrapped it around themselves and as snug wool pillows met their head they were ensured that it would be a dreamless night.

Now to sleep… . . .

After the thousand turn and toss they quickly choose to retract their claim of a quick night’s rest. Indeed, they had a feeling it would be rather the opposite for whatever reason.

Opening their eyes they began to gaze outwards around, if they were stuck tossing and turning maybe putting that mind of theirs to some use would help them tire themselves out.

First that met their gaze was the room they were in. It was as expected, not some grand and lavish room meant for a particularly pompous king or a queen. But a spartan living quarters that could belong to anyone… that was their size of course and barring the bedding itself as it would be unrealistic of anyone to assume they should sleep upon anything but silk and wool. They were in favor of utilitarian living, not ascetic ‘living’ if it could even be called that.

Really did anyone even wish to live in such… And here they were, instead of sleeping they were just wasting their mind on something like this, there was no way this could tire them out.

They rolled their eyes as they tried to bury themselves further into their now much colder sheets that seemed to strangle their throat as opposed to their previous unrestricting nature.

Trying to loosen the fabric they try to put their back towards the wool pillow which seems to bring a strange ache to their head as they sink into the soft material in the least comfortable way. With a cry of frustration they free themselves after tearing the silk away with their claws.

Breathing in and out, as deep as it could go and out as slow as they can manage. They slowly focus back to their bedding which now stood ruined.

For a moment they couldn’t help but to regret their quick action caused by frustration but then again, surely it was better that they were free than if they had stayed and simply let themselves get buried.

After all, they did not make mistakes. This was the better option.

With a sigh they get up from the bed, it turns out they were not tired enough. Surely it should be expected that they would have much more energy than a mortal, they simply needed to stay awake further to tire themselves enough. ‘What better way than to inspect the preparations’ they thought as they tossed the ruined pieces of silk to the corner of the chamber.

 Walking out of their chambers to their temple they took in to walk back to see and confirm all was according to the plan, they needed to be perfect for tomorrow. All needed to be perfect; they had to be ready for war tomorrow against the… traitor.

They stopped momentarily at the thought. They sighed, It was still a hard idea to accept, their brother being a traitor. A heretic that had casted their teachings and has gone to his own path for whatever misbegotten reason.

They could still remember the day when one of their followers came to them with the grim news. Their brother, the traitor had esca- left their temple at the dead of night. They could still remember the sheer disbelief they had felt, the way they had searched every corner of their own temple to make sure he had left them even while knowing full well they had run off.

It was unexpected, it was rage inducing, It was… heartbreaking. To hear him leave them with not even the courage to come to them first. Their claw tightened at the sheer audacity their brother had shown with just the start of his little rebellion.

Surely however, what had made their descent into heresy worse was their next actions. The way they had taken the followers of all four of them to their rank with false promises, the way they had marched them to the tallest mountains to claim superiority above them all, the way they had forgotten them all as he had closed his temple to all, forever casting them away.

Their claw loosened, swallowing the small lump in their throat they continued their walk. ‘No matter’ they thought, no matter what slight was done against them, it would be paid back soon enough. After all, it was as expected.

In a short while they found themselves at their first stop, the armory. The forges where the war would take shape first. Where the bellows infinitely churned the tools necessary for their art, a place most holy for them and their followers.

Blades of many with axes to follow. All spears put neat and well with all arrows heads casted to perfection. A certain smile found their way to their lips as they couldn’t help but be pleased with the simple, brutal but yet effective artistry at work.

All made so well against the fires of the forges, still pulsing with heat that bellowed from within the eternal stone, beating against the venerable steel. Craftsmanship unfound in anywhere else…

Wait. Stopping their stroll through the sets they took upon a closer inspection, which showed many weaknesses once not seen. Some bent where it should be straight and vice versa, all showing wear and tear from past battles unworked in the forge. While some showed even rust where it would prove deadly only to the user of what should be venerable steel.

How were they supposed to wage war with these? They would not be going against the steel of a mere rival God, but the traitor’s army. They would be going to slaughter if they tried to. Just who gave them the orders to make these abominations?

How had this come to be? Who was responsible for all of this? Setting out to find a blacksmith was not so hard as they were already passing by even when they were doing their inspection.

At first it was nothing out of the ordinary until they had realized that The blacksmiths were not of their lot but that of Heket, if they could be called as such.

Following the blacksmith to their workshop they were even more revolted at the sight they had seen.

They saw the blacksmiths milling about instead of working to keep the forges going. Blunt swords and bent shields somehow considered fit to be used, bits of casted metal around with rust clinging to them greeted them.

All with flaws unworked on with the idea of them being ‘good enough’.

Outraged by the sheer audacity committed by these cretin they could almost feel their teeth grind against one another. Just what was their sister thinking? It was obviously their order which has set them in their current way, made them forge these monstrosities.

Then again, this is what could be expected of her wasn’t it. They felt the thought worm their way into their mind further and further as they stood in awe at sight in front of them.

Their sister was always of good enoughs and never of perfection was she? In a normal time of lackadaisical days maybe they could be looked past with only a slight show of unapproval. But here, now? In a time when they needed more than just ‘good enough’?

Unacceptable.

Laziness, the lack of drive, unwillingness to better one’s self, these were the only ways to describe her were they not?

Couldn’t she prove herself to them with more than just good enough just once?

They groaned as they bit down harder and harder. There were a lot of things she would have to prove if she were to ever take her place as their right hand. A lot of things indeed.

Yet, they could not bring themselves to be too disappointed in her. Yes she has shown her unreliability once more, but still there would be more times where she could prove herself to them.

It would be fixed alright. Fetching their own blacksmiths and letting them correct the mistakes was not hard. Before long sounds of metal beating against iron sounded across the temple.

With that taken care of they could finally feel their teeth relax as they sighed with a ghost of a smile, everything the way they were meant to be.

They could see it now even in a small vision. All steel in the hands of the warriors of theirs. Clashing against the heretic, though details were somewhat odd frankly…

Chasing away the doubt much like the warriors from their vision, they continued. There was much to attend. No reason to get stuck on things that do not matter.

Next stop was the Barracks, the path to the barracks was not a long from the armory as expected. In any invasion of any kind it was a needed feature. Though that had never come to pass, it paid to be ready.

Maybe like right now…

Shaking their head they tried to clear the absurd thought away, there was no way he could have figured out what was to be their fate. Even if they knew, they would have mounted an offensive right now.

They knew he was competent, much more than competent at times even and reached the perfection they were known for. As befitting of their once right hand, one did not reach such a position without some skill.

But it was irrelevant as he was no longer their right hand, nor did he know their plans. He was to be caught without defence and… brought to justice.

With thoughts stirring in their head they almost did not notice as they entered the barracks. It was a large part of the temple, it was spartan as furniture went as well as luxury. It was not expected from a warrior to need much other than arm and armor after all.

They saw rows after rows of neat armor meant to be worn under cloak, all straps holding the elegant and yet so effective armor, the expertise that would go unseen in battle, unnoticed almost. Much like their sister almost in their court.

At least, It was satisfying to see that here their warriors would remain unchallenged, they thought. Their warrior’s needed the gear to survive what was to come, they each needed to be protected amidst what they were to face.

But before they could be on their way back to their inspection something caught their eye. It was almost unnoticeable amidst all the others, but in a moment that had them look around the armor stands they noticed that it was all wrong

The straps were too large for even a beast and the armor, it almost looked like it was not even connected together.

On Top of all that, they all showed oddities that would prove too chaotic for any kind of planning. They were strange creations that could never fit in a battlefield, armor that bent like sheets of paper with helmets too long to make sense.

Looking at the others it told a similar tale. All different than each other in ways that made them all more strange than unique.

Their claw flew in a moment over one of the armor sets, and as expected it couldn’t take a single hit with all the unnecessary additions more or less bolted on.

Their eyes twitched as they discarded the broken piece of useless steel and leather. How could their soldiers wage war if their equipment was this strange?

All haphazard, all chaotic…

They didn’t need to guess too long after that to know who was responsible for all of this. Their youngest, Leshy.

Their brother was a being of Chaos, that much was true and expected. They would be a hypocrite if they could ask their brother to stop their ways, their very nature when they themselves were known for their ferocity at times. But yet, in such a time where they could not afford even the slightest deviation from their visions could spell doom for them?

Apathy was the only way to explain how their brother could think to take such action. It was the sheer disregard their brother could show when he found things that he showed no interest towards.

Was this just a joke for the worm? Was their fate and the fate of The Old Faith just a game for him?

Their digits groaned under the pressure as their claws clenched. There were many things they wished to get their hands on at that moment. Maybe to finally show their youngest at least the concept of respect with it.

Yet, they could not bring themselves to blame them too harshly. Indeed they had done a great wrong with their casual dismissal of their own order and instead letting his own armorers run wild, but it could be fixed.

Waking the armorers was much like waking the blacksmiths, a single order given to a passing follower and in a few short moments before the clang of steel and fastening of leather rang out from the workshops dulling out the headache they were subjected to.

Each one they would meticulously check, test if need be. If they will fail them here, then how are they supposed to not fail against their br- the traitor?

After what felt like hours examining the strap that held each armor, they were finally satisfied or as close as they could get. All armor polished and readied for use by all kinds of followers and beast alike. None could truly withstand a God surely, but this was… acceptable, for now.

As they were leaving they decided to just peek into the future of the armor and saw that it was as they predicted. Armor would not protect against a God but it would protect against his forces.

A blow from a sword of a warrior grazing against a pauldron before being met with righteous teeth… wait, teeth?

They almost stumbled before straightening themselves against the cold stone pillars. They felt their head ache at the vision. Why was their sight so murky today? They could barely gaze a moment into the future and it was all muddled to oblivion. Was their precognition fail-. No, that was not possible.

Shaking their head they carried on, there was no need to doubt themselves. Their vision was true as always, as expected.

It was true, they were sure of it.

Besides, has their vision ever failed them before? It had not failed when they were attacked by their rival Gods, it had not failed when they saw the coming of their siblings from the stars above. It had not failed when it showed them their brother’s soon treachery. Though sometimes they wish it had failed at least this once.

Without even meaning to, they stumbled upon the arena. Where one met warrior against warrior, where one found themselves in their perfect selves as they showed them what truly was beneath their simple mortal coils.

Truly a place that would bring an end to their worries, well it was not worries per say but simple concerns.

Warriors each with a sword to call their own, battling with precision and elegance. Each strike thought with reason, unlike that of a beast that only relies upon rage and instinct.

Sparks flying in all directions as the swords clash against the other with shields blocking the next. The footwork to avoid each quick jab… dodging away from hits instead of fighting back…

Taken aback for a moment, looking around some more a similar tale followed, each warrior instead of standing their ground just gave away in a cowardly display. How were these warriors supposed to hold the line and push back when they fought like cowards?

It took them no time to single out the one that found themselves on the ground, who looked unashamed at such a shameless display of failure. picking themselves up and carrying on as if they had not just brought disgrace to all. It was almost like seeing their brother again at his first sacrifice.

Still trying to surpass the awful memory, few of the six eyes she had twitched as they felt their claw squeeze against their palm. How were they this unabashed? It was so insulting. Were they just doing it on purpose? did they simply do it to annoy them?

Unclenching their palm they looked upon the warrior that failed them. He was a young one, with mandibles of blue and eyes of turquoise. Moving towards him it took him a moment to realize he was facing the eldest of The Old Faith. It took him another moment to realize his body was high on the air as they took them by their training gear.

Entering the mind of the would be follower was easy, seeing where they got these notions of cowardice was also easy, almost unneeded.

It was none other than their cowardly brother who had thought them.

It took much of them to not crush the little crab in their grasp as they begged and wept, not because of the cowardice but for the show they had put on with their tears. Each moment reminding them of the day where they knew their second youngest would bring much dishonor to them in the coming time.

Maybe against their better judgement they let go of the mewling welp.

Tossing the now terrified creature full of tears that reminded them too much of their cowardly brother. They set out to fix the wrong they saw, they would show this arena what was true battle. Even if it would take the remaining part of their night they would make sure such traitors nor weaklings would dare ruin their plans.

After what felt like eternity they left the arena. They were to say the least, tired. The training took more off of them they would like to admit, not because the warriors were able to match them but because they were unable to.

It was infuriating to unteach the notions of dodging instead of answering a strike with a riposte, or how to keep their footing when attacked instead of relenting.

Even at the end of their lecture they still couldn’t do as they wished, as they perhaps needed but it was close enough, and it would be enough.

It would be enough even if the idea of ‘good enough’ gave them much disgust.

They didn’t even need to gaze to the future to know that would be more than enough. Why would they when they knew it was going to go as expected? It was simply a waste of time.

Besides, their brother would not have raised an army to match theirs yet alone all three even if they were subpar… Then again their brother was not unlike them when it came to battle now were they?

No, perhaps not.

They felt the door to their chamber before they could see it. One claw rubbing the spot on their head and with the other throwing the door open they entered.

It was as they left it, with the blankets still torn asunder. With a sigh that came from deep within they slowly made their way to their bed.

Even without the blanket, it was still comfortable. Though the wood of the frame groaning under their weight was not really pleasant. Also the strange wetness of the pillow was… odd. coupled that with the odd sting in their eyes…

Rubbing at their eyes they looked up, staring at the ceiling of their chamber.

Just why?

Why was nothing going the way it was supposed to be going?

Nothing was as expected and all was just…

Wrong.

Nothing they did felt like it was good enough anymore. Each part of their preparations felt worse than the last, the weapons were still subpar, the armors were falling apart, their warriors couldn’t even hold a sword correctly.

How could their followers… No, their siblings fail them so badly?

As the frustration crept within once more they started to remember the better days, the days before it was so much more perfect. Their warriors were trained by them personally, their armor and arms were done to their specifications. It was all just perfect.

From their own followers to their siblings, they were all just failing them. One by one they were refusing their vision, each giving away excuses for their faults and never accepting blame.

Their follower’s at least had a semblance of competence within, but their siblings? They all just failed them. They each failed them in so many damnable ways.

They just wished Narinder was with them…

Taking a second to part their claws away from their head they looked above to the roof of their chamber. They blinked as they let the idea sink down further and further.

They wish they were with him now, instead of their brothers and sister they wished that Narinder was with them where everything would be easier. His blacksmiths would cast the greatest steel made to perfect the art of death. His armorers assemble the most impeccable armor to stop the coming of death for just a little longer in battle. His Soldiers, the ones that fight with no fear of their lord’s embrace as they march to their assured deaths.

Everything would have been easier.

It would be… perfect.

They wished for him to be back with them, things to go back the way they used to be before all this… mess.

Their mandibles quivered as a lonely drop of ichor found its way off their eye. They wished for so many things, so many things that felt so distant now. They wished for things to return to the way they used to be. Alas just as much as death couldn’t flow backwards, just as much as how they couldn’t undo their mistakes…

Another drop escaped them, It was their mistake was it not? It was surely their mistake of showing him the ideas of evolving when his domain should never have such ideals utilized.

They still could remember the conversation that led to that, could still remember how they were saddened for he could not create like the rest of them.

He had come to them as usual when this ancient sadness came again to the forefront of his mind, invading his senses. The sadness that fattened with each new sibling who could change unlike him.

It was easy back then, just to assure him of his place within the cult made of only the two of them. That they would change and he would stay the way he was, an equal balance set in a dance of two. Upset with the coming of more.

They did not wish to remember the way they looked upon them with his three eyes that shone the way they did when they first came to their world in a comet screaming through the skies. The way he looked so unsure, so unhappy as he had when he found the lacking of his domain.

They had assured him that he was just as important, assure them that creation was not any lesser than destruction, assure them that their siblings were not looking down on their second leader just because all that he was.

They wish it worked, they wish he just backed down and smiled back as he accepted his place. That he would just apologize for bothering them again, and that they could assure them that he had not bothered them at all.

However, that's not what happened.

He just stopped. He just looked within their eyes and claimed that maybe he should just… go. That he should just embrace it instead, embrace oblivion and destruction. Tell them that the Lord of Death should have no business with the living world.

As they saw the will within his eyes, they knew they were serious. He would leave them alone, he would reach his realm and forever bar the gates to stop them. He would leave them, their first brother, their first little headache that caused so much upheaval in their life.

They were weak in the end. The way their heart broke with his, as they couldn’t imagine a future without him by their side.

So they did it, they told him of change. They told him they could become different, evolve and become something he wished. So they could perhaps create in their own way.

As his smile grew with the idea of this new novelty, so did theirs fell as they saw the future that they charted for the whole of The Old Faith with just those simple words.

‘’So try brother. For my domain is knowledge and it is ever evolving, so can yours maybe.’’

The words spoken so long ago now felt like a curse that broke them down with each letter. They hated it, they hated every moment of that cursed memory and they hated themselves for all that came to be after that.

They were sure of it.

Shuffling up the mountains so far high, it was like a blur under the grayed out skies blending with the snow covered mountain.

Each begrudging and tiresome step after another taken with only vitriol to fuel it. The snow under their feet sinking down as it gets muddied more and more with each step taken behind them as untold warriors made their way up the mountain.

They had to give it to their brother, he had made sure every step of the way would be more painful than the one before. It was already hard marching an army up a mountain but one with snow on top? It would sap the strength out of their troops even before they would reach their destination.

As expected, most clever of their brother.

Still, they marched on. With all four armies combined they trudged through the mountain even as mud claimed more and more of their ranks as they sank down into it, before ever getting to taste battle breathing their last breath under the earth.

They should curse their brother for such cruelty, to steal them away to his realm before they could even test their mettle.

Alas they could only find an inkling of pride where there should be rage.

Eventually they reached the gates of the temple, manned by ram and ewe alike with odd species of all kinds amidst their ranks. All with weapons edged to perfection and armor to match, standing together as one, where theirs stood divided.

It took them much time to breach the gates, their warriors dying by the hundreds at the forefront as the lots of their siblings filled the ranks after them. Their warriors meeting their end to the onslaught just so that their sibling’s lot could stand a chance.

They should be howling in rage as the now mindless horde of fanatics led by their siblings fight against the honorable heretics of their brother. They should take apart the heretics who fought against the horde of teeth and claws with their swords and shields.

But they could only share a ghost of a smile in their lips as they stood unmoved. Yet again pride bloomed within as they marched on with only lethargy and perhaps apathy keeping them company.

Then they came to the last hurdle, perhaps the last heretic still able to hold a blade against them. With many broken bodies of their own warriors beneath his feet and the lot of Kallamar watching from far away, cowering behind their shields as they looked upon the wolf.

Melvin stood alone, his curved blade from lands so far away in their hands as they stood in front of the gate they had no chance to bar them against. There he stood, silent with only judgement within his eyes and perhaps even disgust.

They should be enraged by the sheer notion of judging them when he was but an insect where he stood. How could he even wish to criticize a god?

However yet again, they couldn’t help but be proud of their brother for having a witness with faith this strong when their end was so assured. They could even believe the old mutt felt no fear within his heart as they manned the gate of their Lord.

They almost found themselves asking him to move aside, to tell him he would be allowed to come with them once they take his brother back to the fold. To serve him once they claim back their brother away from his folly. But his gaze filled with nothing but fury told them, he would not listen.

They wish they could say he put up a fight. That he fought with valor befitting of a warrior, but no. For a moment he stood valiant and in the other he stood impaled against their youngest’s claws. Played like a toy, as they dangled uselessly in Leshy’s still apathetic grasp as he flexed his claws with boredom written in his face.

With shame plastered against his still face he uttered words that were only heard by their brother. Who looked on from his throne with only sorrow, his body almost like a statue sitting with their scythe by their side.

There was no need for words, they knew what was to happen. Their brother would fight against them when they had only wanted him back, he would wound each one of them until only they and he would stand where they would see what would follow soon enough.

Yet they still spoke, not because they knew it would change anything but because they felt almost an obligation to him to at least try.

 With a heavy heart full of sorrow ‘’Brother’’ It was hard to make up the words as they gazed upon the near empty eyes with a similar pain behind them ‘’Your folly comes to an end, resist no more and come wit-’’

They were cut by a laughter, one so empty that came from him ‘’Why?’’ Before they could ask what he meant by his question ‘’Why are you here? Why are you slaughtering my followers? When I left for there to be no more bloodshed, why have you followed me here?’’ There it was, within his eyes a spark that could not be killed so easily. One that would ignite the battle that was sure to follow.

The answer so simple, yet so hard to make him understand ‘’I… my visi-’’

They were cut once more, now with much more vitriol ‘’Oh so it was your delusions yet again’’ his words, an offense that would be punished swiftly even if he were the one to commit back on the lackadaisical days of yore.

Now only silence followed his words before they could muster the strength once more ‘’Brot- Narinder I…’’ They couldn’t finish their words. How could they? How could they even begin to explain their rightful reasoning, that their actions were just. How could they make him see?

‘’Whatever, I am done fighting.’’ He looked below to his hands as they clenched before with a sigh ‘’I am done with seeing my followers get slaughtered. I will come with you if you spare whoever is left.’’

They were stunned into silence with the end of their sentence. In a moment their sorrow was replaced with joy they thought they could never feel again. Could the fate they foresaw be avoided? Have their visions truly been falsehoods? But before they could rejoice at the fact that their vision would not come to pass, they were horrified at the idea that they were wrong.

They were… wrong. How could they be wrong? Were they wrong in all their visions, all of this preparation, all the events that led to this moment could have been changed?

Have they truly failed their brother? Could they have spared him the misery they caused, could they have averted hurting Nari so easily?

Too lost in their own mind, unable to even notice the world around themselves. They could only hear Hekets axe as it flew at their brother to be countered at the last moment with his scythe.

In a moment their world was shifted once more as their two siblings began to fight, one so full of rage the other so confused. They tried to find their tongue before Heket spoke between each of her hits.

With full of indignation ‘’Liar! you just wish to take back your spot. Well I am not letting you take back my rightful spot, where I deserve to be!’’ She swung fast and well just to be thwarted each time as he looked at her somewhere between furious and confused.

They looked at their sister as they continued their attack towards their brother. Why was she doing that? He already gave up, they could have just gone home, they could have…

Before they could finish the thought Leshy joined his sister as he swung his warhammer. Almost taking both of them down with one mighty and uncontrolled swing meant for both and neither.  

Now with a smile that reached his branches ‘’Sorry brother but this is too much fun to pass up on, hope you don’t mind’’ His words fell with laughter as he continued his onslaught of wild swings, Narinder looked at their youngest with frustration written on his face.

Few moments later, surprisingly they saw Kallamar find himself in combat alongside them. Coming from the outskirts of the battle to try their luck with an opportunistic strike, giving themselves room to dodge if need be.

‘’He is just lying! He is waiting to attack us when he gains our trust again!’’

They looked on the travesty in front of them, this dishonorable battle where three fought against one. Where chivalry and honor was tossed away by all three combatants that made a mockery of war and battle. Where the three threw away the one chance of them all going back to the days of old for their petty little reasons.

They were calm for a moment, a moment where they saw all three of their siblings. Heket who still could not land a hit where it was almost impossible not to, Leshy who still couldn’t take the battle seriously even where his life depended on it, Kallamar who was still acting like a coward where they were three against one.

That moment passed with howl of rage the likes of which had not been heard for centuries. One that shook the core of the temple they were standing in. One that stopped their fight for one moment as they looked upon a true God of War devoid of wisdom, before the beast threw themselves amidst the fight.

Claws and teeth followed them, one guided by instinct rather than true combat prowess. A cut here, a slash there with warm and cold vitae and ichor of many.

In a moment came a blur of green where their claws reached and plucked something off from, the blur fell with scream so delicious against their ears. Then a blur of red and some yellow, there they took something red and some white that too fell but now with a thud and a gurgle. There came a scream from the blue blur, that was quieted with a bite to the parts that stick away from it as they rolled away.

In the end there was only a blur of white, they couldn’t take anything from that one. No matter what they did, all they could do was a measly slash against their middle that saw the spilling of crimson, that was answered with an intense pain that radiated from their head.

Then the blur stopped, now even harder to see. All the ones they took from were on the ground now with much red all around. While the one clad in white and red stood above them, with something poking against their throat.

Had they seen this before? It felt like… Deja Vu? Was that the word… They could ask their siblings if they knew. Maybe Nari knew something about it.  

Where was he anyway? Where was their little furball? They called out as softly as they could manage, to not scare their baby brother of course ‘’Nari… where are you…?’’ For a moment the blur grew still ‘’I need you’’ Words fell slowly away from them as the odd sensation grew in their head.

Tentatively, the white and red blur lowered himself to their level, there he stood. They could almost make an image through the haze which looked like a cat with three eyes just like their little brother. They smiled as they felt arms around their body, giving them an embrace.

There it was, their brother’s voice. Though why was it so tired? ‘’Shhh it's alright Shasha’’ They felt cold fingers find the pain radiating out of their skull, soothing the pain slightly as he whispered ‘’it's… it’s all gonna be alright.’’ He gave a pause ‘’I promise’’ They were happy their brother had come to help them. As expected of their little brother, always so faithful.

They were so lucky they had a sibling.

They wish they had more siblings.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/44580424/chapters/116636956

Hi-hii :3

I was writing an essay and ine little thought crossed my mind. It is simple but...

While I was re-reading Two Becomes Five I actually thought of Lamb and Cats(Aym and Baal obviously) hanging out together. Maybe Aym and Baal would know more about current situation in the cult, see some of bright sides of it? Or maybe they could go on a little adventure? I'm not really sire what exactly they would do... I just wanted to see the three of them finally getting along so they could comfort each other ;v;

Firstly, as promised HAPPY BIRTHDAY! and sorry for being a little late on the story. My finals are a bit annoying and you know how it is, but yeah I hope you enjoy the story :)

What More?

Sunlight shimmering amidst the mountain tops, a visage so usual for him. A visage he became familiar with over the course of his long life, a life spent in the halls of their marble home atop the highest peaks.

After all of the years he has spent up here, he had little to complain about their home. Marble halls with followers all around, tending and attending as they came and went and that was that he liked it. In the lands rivaling the clouds, cold but never cold enough to freeze at least for him, the earth around never muddy to be miserable like the lands below.

It was simply a perfect place to live, an idea that most shared alongside his new and really only friend. The friend which was taking entirely too long preparing the picnic basket. Really, how could it even take this long? Also why was she even packing food for him and his brother? It was not like either of them really needed it.

Speaking of his brother, who at the moment was preoccupied looking over the skies from the window of their mutual friend's house.

Looking over the skies with a paw closed to shield his only working eye ‘’The sun is almost up lambchops, it's gonna get too warm in a bit, come on.’’

The ewe he was referring to gave him a roll of the eye before ‘’Aren’t we sheep supposed to rise with the sun, not you divine cats or whatever? Also why do you care if it’s gonna get warm?’’

His brother took only a moment to retort ‘’Ever had a picnic with the sun right above your head lambchops?’’ Without giving enough time for a reply ‘’it ain’t really pleasant.’’

He was sure Lambert would retort back with something, which his brother followed with one of his own. It would go on until they both would get tired of it, and as exciting as that sounded to watch, he decided to just focus on much more interesting things such as the cloudless skies.

Really though, it was slightly strange how clear the skies were for their home. It was an odd occurrence that for some odd reason bothered him, or perhaps what bothered him more was his brother’s insistence of going outside for a picnic today. He couldn’t stop the sigh that forced his way out of him as he gazed at his brother who was currently having an argument/shouting match with Lambert on what constitutes as ‘early hours’ or ‘the correct time to go on a picnic’ was. Really though, why was he so adamant about all this? Going out in the middle of summer for an activity that for all intents and purposes was meaningless to all of them. Lambert didn’t seem to care too deeply where they spent time as long as they were together, he didn’t really care about food so that only really left his brother. Just what pushed him into rousing him from his meditation that early in the morning and got Lambert to prepare for a day out with all the critters and lack of shelter or really any civilization was beyond him. Well there was a reason in mind but… He was almost sure he rose above that sort of childish thing, or really he hoped he moved on from that sort of thinking. He would ask to confirm all this but he looked too busy trying to hoist Lambert on the bookshelf, who for her part was doing a good job resisting him by holding onto his ears while shouting about how she didn’t wanna get stranded up there like last time.

As amusing as their antics were, he really wanted to get this over with as soon as possible so he could maybe salvage the rest of the day and perhaps get some meditation done. Hiding his smirk he made his way out of the door, without looking back ‘’Come on you two. We got things to do after we are done with all this’’ before either of them could retort he added ‘’We can just hunt a pigeon for Aym and you can just chow down on the grass’’ He didn’t bother to look back to see either of their incredulous faces before he made his way out. Most of the paths leading out of their home on the mountains were long and as would be expected, arduous. His brother’s chosen path was no different. Stepping over another sharp rock he wondered, why did he have to choose such a far away place instead of a rooftop or something? He would try to ask that alongside his previous question, if either of his companions would stop their bickering for a moment. ‘’Do I really have to carry you?’’ Came a voice from his brother. He was answered by Lambert who was still holding onto his ears, almost instantaneously ‘’Yes’’ Incredulous ‘’You have two functional legs on top of having hoofs, you should be fine climbing down a little bit’’ Ewe ever the retortful, lifted her left leg while pointing at it with her right arm ‘’Well I would be fine, if ‘someone’ didn’t hurt my hoof earlier’’ Rolling his eyes ‘’that isn’t even the right hoof and I already apologized.’’ Almost pleadingly ‘’So, please?’’  At his words Lambert took a moment to pause in thought, rubbing at her chin before suddenly ‘’No, you gotta carry me.’’ The groan his brother let out could have triggered an avalanche if it wasn’t for the fact that there was no snow at this time of year.

So it was, the three of them, well more like two of them walking along the path his brother set out for them. On a path to a place he didn’t understand why they needed to travel, under the burning sun, all the while wondering what his brother was going with all this. He almost wished their master would call them back for a full temple cleanup or something. Step after step, one over the other. It was slow as it was boring, just seeing the mountain pass grow narrow before widening a moment later. After a moment of thought, he wouldn’t call it boring, not really. It was just monotonous, cliffs leading to stacked stones to more cliffs. Trying to escape from the monotony he tried to focus on his brother and Lambert, maybe they had gone back to their shenanigans that didn’t fail to entertain him. Looking over to their side he saw something he was not really expecting, his brother was pointing at something off in the distance all the while Lambert was just sort of listening? She was still situated on his shoulders but that didn’t seem like it was bothering Aym all too well either. Speaking of his brother, he seemed happy if not at least just more interested than usual? His brother was one for brooding and complaining rather than smiles and laughter like now most of the time. In a way it seemed off, almost like seeing a congregation of priests not shouting over each other in their endless quest to find out which one of them could misinterpret their lord’s message the most. But even though it was odd, it was not unpleasant. His interest felt fresh… It almost reminded him of the back in the days. Shaking the odd decrepit memories away he focused on the sun that seemed like it was oblivion bent on trying to melt him away, all the while trying to ignore an ancient call of the past once so sweet.

*** Sheep wool is something that tends to be soft, perhaps even fluffy if you want to get sweet with it. And as for someone who had a friend who happens to be an ewe, who also happens to have been on top of his shoulders for the better part of a day he was starting to doubt the validity of that claim. Now, in order to break this great misconception he had many options. One, he could ask Lambchops what she thought. Which she would be just confirming the validity of the claim, but since she happens to be a sheep it didn’t seem like her input would be clear of bias.

Two, he could ask his brother who also happens to be friends with a sheep. Then again he would also be pretty biased considering his friendship and a lack of shoulders crushed under an ewe.

This only left him the third option, which is to pick a sheep who might or might not so happen to sit on him and yeet her into the soft grass. Thus testing the softness by comparing the two against one another all the while giving a well deserved comeuppance.

Needlessly to say, the bleat that came out of Lambchops would be worth all the piggyback rides she would demand of him in the near future.

while at it, why not just test how fluffy cat fur tends to be.

The moment he met the grass he knew he was right to choose this place, the grass so soft growing in a patch without any stone. Laying down on the even ground looking up to see the infinite clear blue skies unsullied by the clouds with the grand golden sun peeking just on the side. Closing his eyes and breathing in the fresh air slowly, he could feel peace but just in a moment course through his very being.

Though the peace was not meant for long as he was assaulted by a very aggravated ewe who didn’t seem to like his little test and decided that the best way to get revenge is through throwing herself on his chest before trying to pin him to the ground. He should be trying to stop the angry ball of fluff currently trying to choke him out but really after seeing her ruffled pelt, it was just too much for him to bear without laughing. Still trying to choke him out ‘’You ass! Do you know how much time it took to make up my fur?!’’ Fighting away the laughter ‘’About an hour’’ wiping away a tear ‘’the exact reason why we got here late’’ Incredulous ‘’That's why you throw me into the grass!’’ punching at his chest ‘’You jerk.’’ With the last of the laughter finally making its way out of him ‘’Nah, it was because your rump had gotten my shoulders all sore fluffy butt’’ With one last punch to the chest she moved away from him and begun to walk towards the grass around them, huffing and puffing all the way. It was his brother that spoke first ‘’You done it now’’ Arriving from the side before sitting down on the grass next to him. Calling out to where she was headed to ‘’Come on Lambchops no need to sulk, I was just horsing around’’ She was still moving away, not wanting to see her get lost in the tall grass he knew he had to go that route. With a groan before clearing his throat ‘’Alright I’m sorry Lambchops I’m such a meanie. really a Horrible no good friend and-’’ Stopping on her tracks ‘’Rude and a sore loser at table games'’ His brother butting in before he could refute the last claim which was just slander ‘’Terribly noisy on top of being rather silly’’ With another groan ‘’Alright you two, get it out of your systems all the while little ol’ me suffers this abuse’’ Closing his eyes before putting a paw on his unbeating heart, putting as much theatrics as he could to his fake cries. With a sigh the ewe turned back ‘’I am still angry and you are still a jerk’’

‘’Alright how about a trade’’ He continued as Lambert gave him a look that said keep going ‘’I will carry you back home too, where if you want you can continue to be mad at me, but for now we can just enjoy the picnic’’ It took her a moment, a moment that almost made him think he might need to offer few more trips to make up with her before she sighed again ‘’Fine, I guess I can look past your transgression until home’’ Giving her a smile he set out to take off the bag he was carrying, she sat down to do the same with her back as they set out their little picnic spot. His brother taking off the plates while he handled the picnic blanket, corner of his eyes he saw Lambert and the food she brought for them. He was still iffy on the whole eating food thing, but he knew arguing with Lambchops was futile. So here, they had a picnic. In the sight of the great ocean which was seen stretching across the horizon from one side to the other, with land of the old four encompassing that of their masters. The aerie but yet grand dark forest adding the dark green along the plains of west, to the swamps of Anura adding the hues of yellow on the east with their mysterious yet oddly welcoming splendor. His eye drifted across the land near the ocean after that as his sibling and Lambchops talked of faith and prayer, to the half land and sea of Anchordeep adding the aqua with a touch of turquoise and also its terrifying yet calming aura. All across this land and beneath the lands of Silk Cradle did his ‘home’ encompass, a land and ‘home’ that was all the land in between and perhaps one day even the ones all across the endless ocean. And there it was, the pang. One of guilt and shame with a spark of sadness and hope hidden within. The lands all around, grand and wide and duty called him here to this one he was so used to. Lost in the thought he almost didn’t hear his brother ‘’So Aym, why have thee brought us here?’’ Looking over he saw his brother, sitting down almost in meditation while he lay down with Lambchops somewhere in between. Raising a brow ‘’For the picnic?’’ Rolling his eyes ‘’Why did you pick here for it, that is what I ask brother’’

There it was, the moment he dreaded. He fought the groan as he tried to find a way out of this question that carried one too many traps and no good answers without lie ‘’Well I saw this place while taking a walk and thought your grumpy butt would appreciate going out for once.’’ The look from his brother told him that he didn’t really buy it ‘’I see’’ There was still a chance that this would end here and perhaps his brother could put a cork in it for once, but no luck ‘’I would ask why you are outside of our home but really, it feels like you are barely inside these days’’ The effect was almost instant as he felt the indignation rise within his words, but no. He would not have this conversation again, not here. Not when it should be just the three of them together. ‘’I mean, is it such a bad thing?’’ He almost felt his blood go cold at the words of their companion, oh no. He was gonna have this conversation here wasn’t he? ‘’You know, to just explore?’’ Almost adding more fuel to it now, he had to find a way to silence her before his brother started his tirade. Could he try throwing her again? No that would actually be mean. Maybe he could fake a stomach ache? No, that would be just dumb. Think damn it, think! ‘’Because there is no need for it Lambert’’ His brother spoke, with certainty only he and their master shared. He was facing her but really he knew who he was talking to ‘’There is no need because this is our home, everywhere else outside of our care’’ Before he could stop himself ‘’I wouldn’t be so sure’’ Damn him to oblivion, damn it all. He was doomed anyway. Why stop now? ‘’There is much to see and le-’’ ‘’What more-‘’ Breathing in deep before letting it out he waited for him to finish ‘’-do you even need? To see and learn brother of mine’’ ‘’Well I would like to see the ocean a little closer for once’’ Humour, that had to work. That had to at least get him not to say what he was surely going to say next. ‘’There are enough rivers with enough water brother.’’ with a sight so deep with a tinge of disappointment ‘’I thought master got rid of all this stupid ideas out of you back th-’’ In a moment a shout that reverberated across the mountain side ‘’Just because you wanna stay here forever like some damn critter in a cage doesn’t mean I wanna!’’ One much colder yet still a shout ‘’This is our home!’’ Now yet colder than the hardest winters of their ‘home’ ‘’I don’t think you remember how it was before all this.’’

In a moment his anger boiled and in a moment it all froze, like that of the river they found so long ago freezing that one winter ‘’Home? Is that what you see it like?’’ His voice but a whisper ‘’This prison?’’ His eye met his brothers, bearing nothing but contempt ‘’No brother, Home was with mother, and back then this whole land was our home. Not some old church on a mountain.’’ ‘’You know, it is not such a bad place’’ a voice meek but with purpose and conviction. She looked below, not meeting either of their eyes ‘’It’s not really a prison, at least not one without good within.’’ Before he could control himself ‘’And that good is?’’ She met his eyes in a moment ‘’You two for a start.’’ With a smile pained but not without warmth. Continuing with a tinge of fervor ‘’And the people are not too bad’’ looking over to the side ‘’yeah some of the priests are mean and some people are a bit zealous and perhaps misguided in their love of our Lord.’’ Her eyes met his once more ‘’But I still think there are still some good, there are priests that help feed the poor and teach the children how to pray and the people with smiles and love within.’’ taking a moment before continuing ‘’Then there is our Lord’’ He felt a moment of shame bubble within at the mention of their Master. Now looking to the horizon ‘’But, it is still beautiful out there too you know’’ Trying to meet her gaze to the infinite blue ‘’There are trees of tall, with birds of plenty dancing across the skies and on the fields’’ He saw plenty of those back then, fun chasing them around with a certain cat clad in white ‘’Rivers with ponds that stretch so far, with villages of sheep and goat’’ now almost ruefully ‘’There are many lamb and other with dreams so different to that of here’’ Now looking at his brother ‘’So I guess what I am saying is that, it is good outside too. It is worth it to see and learn’’ His brother didn’t match his eyes before a sigh ‘’I am sorry’’ It was but barely a whisper ‘’I shouldn’t have mentioned our past like that, to use that against you’’ slowly looking up to meet his eyes ‘’I shouldn’t judge you for wanting to leave even if I don’t really get why’’ Now it was his turn ‘’I am sorry too’’ It was hard making out the next words ‘’I don’t think it is a prison you know… It's just’’ a sigh before continuing ‘’It’s just so suffecting and the land outside so so damn beautiful’’ 

With a snort ‘’Yeah, I suppose the ocean is not so bad’’ As they sat in a more comfortable silence for a moment he smiled, Maybe the day didn’t need to be ruined just yet. Looking to meet the ewe that saved their picnic and really the whole day she saw her smile in full. A small laughter came from her lips before ‘’I believe my expert input to this discussion should be rewarded with an extra ride on your shoulders’’ He couldn’t stop the laughter that escaped him before going for a tackle hug on the ewe currently on the ground laughing alongside him and Baal ‘’You damn little ewe’’ trying to get the ewe to stop going for his ears he thought, ‘Maybe one day, maybe one day he would get to see the outside but today was fine here’

Love the redesign, it looks woooool ye indeed. Also new profile pic is looking rather nice.

I made a slight redesign of my lamb

Now her wool looks like actual wool yee

Still unsure if it's just a headcanon or is this AU or OC thingy...

Trully, most highest honour one can receive.

I need to draw my lamb boy more, heres some doodles