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yellowboxel · 10 hours

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"I've made a new friend today, lamb."

Trudging along, bells toiling, the god of mercy visits the plains once more in search of lost souls in need of saving. A lush flower grove grows beneath their hooves, only to quickly rot and age underneath the crimson cloak. The scent of herb coated the ancient long gone architecture with new vigor.

Narinder still clings to their ancient master, loyal as always joining the solemn walk. He announces his blessed day, he made a friend, looking up to the towering beast for a sign that he has been heard. He almost wishes to choke a sob, for he sees there's none. A trudge, new life, for it to end, the echos of chimes, an omen of sleep. He remembers the days when he despised the infant god for being so childish, the cursed mocking laughter of a sickly sweet soul, to see the joy written on their face, to see how proud they were when the news was given. Delight that Narinder is no longer so lonesome with the new family. He'd give anything to break this damned curse, just to see that annoying, pitiful, awful, smile again.

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yellowboxel · 10 hours

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