Blood tastes a lot like iron.
How did they know that?
They never quite took the time to wonder how they could recognize the taste of iron, and this seemed like a perfectly good time.
They wouldn't get another chance, after all, they were about to die.
The battle was a blur. They remembered landing a few good blows on the archer, or was it the guardian?
Yes… It's coming back to them now. It was definitely the archer. The arrow pierced their shoulder, and they tore it out and shoved it into the archer's…
As the Lamb attempted to recall the scuffle, their thoughts were interrupted by a sudden pain in their throat.
They began to hack and cough, spitting blood into the pool of murky water in front of them.
They watched as the blood trickled into the water, spreading throughout the inky black liquid…
And they saw something.
Someone?
They hesitantly approached the water.
.elddup eht sdrawot depael yehT
They slowly sunk their hand in, attempting to grab onto anything.
.gnihtyna otno psarg ot gniyrt yletarepsed ,loop eht otni dnah rieht detloj yehT
Something grabbed them. .meht debbarg gnihtemoS
Something began tugging them beneath the water, and they tried to resist.
.ecnatsiser dnuof tub ,retaw eht evoba gnidloh erew yeht revetahw gard ot deirt yehT
They dug their stumpen feet into the ground, and tugged on whatever lied beneath the water.
.retaw eht otni deknay eb ot sevlesmeht dewolla yehT .noitpo rehto on saw ereht taht dezilaer yehT
And it joined them on the other side.
It was drenched in the grimy water of the pool, and it thrashed back and forward to sling the water off of themselves.
It was only then that the Lamb got a decent look at the creature.
First, they saw the bandages. Wrapped around their feet, mirroring their own, but stained in dark purple. Then, they saw their cloak. A royal purple, with white zig zag outlines along the rim. Small symbols followed each tip of the lines.
After that, a bell with the moon's reflection glimmering on its silver sheen. Soon, yellow tinted and sharp teeth with bizarrely shaped pupils met their gaze. And lying atop the shaggy, unkept fur?
A crown with a purple crossed out pupil.
That's not right.
That's not right at all.
But as the Lamb tried to get something, ANYTHING, to leave their lips…
"…You seem like the familiar sort."
It spoke.
"You fancy yourself a swordsman, eh?" It pointed towards the Lamb's blade. "Bit banged up for me likin', though."
It tugged the Lamb's arm to bring them closer, then shoved their torso to knock them onto the floor.
"Tell ya what, I'll deal with these blokes, you stay there and sit all pretty like, aye?"
The Lamb stammered, and finally managed to say something.
"What are you?"
It turned around, its back facing the lamb, as it grabbed its crown and violently contorted it into an axe.
"Isn't it obvious?
I'm a Goat."
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