since Woolhaven is now out…can I request a platonic lamb with a new follower reader who’s a wolf from the mountain that got partially rotted and is now looking for some sort of healing?
As Lamb trekked through the forests of Ewefall, they could see the Rot's influence growing stronger by the day. It showed no signs of stopping, neither fire nor ice capable of repelling its vile spread.
With every soul they've returned to Yngya's shrine, her revitalized powers over winter brought new challenges for their cult to overcome. Fortunately, most of their followers adapted to the changing seasons and planned accordingly.
So that's been the least of their worries.
What concerned them more was what lied at the end of this "Ritual". They know nearly everything about winter, but knowing how the Cold Mother intended to enact revenge on the world grew to be...quite disturbing. Of course they'd never admit it, wanting to put their trust in her.
Yet this Rot--a physical manifestation of lambkind's immeasurable suffering--seemed to be spreading out of control, pouring out from the mountain's core, tainting the snow red...and even infecting the Heathen Marchosias himself.
The members of his "Free Pack" were also afflicted, and their aggression grew tenfold as their leader blamed Lamb for the disease.
A disease which he, a self-proclaimed scientist and doctor, intended to find a cure for at any cost.
But he still intended to kill them, for he despised the Crown-bearing gods of the Old Faith and believed himself to be the true liberator of the world. One that didn't need deities sitting atop their holy thrones and torturing those who dared to disagree with their ideals.
Likewise, Lamb sought to put him down like the mad dog he was. Not just because of Yngya's demands for his culling...but because they were furious that he claimed her mountain as his own, spitting on the graves of those who perished due to a prophecy.
During their crusade to the top, however, they happened upon a small camp belonging to a single wolf cultist.
They were partially infected by the Rot, the right side of their face and their left hand covered in fleshy growths. They breathed shallow, huddled underneath a makeshift shelter comprised of sticks, simple bedding, and a sheet to protect it from the elements.
This loner--you--didn't show any signs of aggression, or even awareness that you had a visitor.
You've simply been too tired to do....anything, really.
The pot of stew over your campfire was long-snuffed out by the wind, and still it was left untouched. Despite having hunted and killed for the food it contained, the thought of eating it while you're like this was nauseating enough.
When you finally heard the footsteps of the stranger, you coughed and rose to greet them.
"Ah, hello.....oh." You blinked, slowly realizing it's the one who Marchosias ordered you to kill-on-sight. "It's you, Crown-Bearer."
On instinct, Lamb put their hand out, and the Red Crown manifested into a weapon for them to clutch, poised to either attack or defend. Their gaze was sharp, intent on watching your every move should they need to retaliate.
Yet they were confused when you didn't howl or draw your own weapon...or even look at them with malice like your fellow Free Pack members.
"Don't hurt me..I..am not your enemy. I...d-do not associate myself with the Heathen any longer." You hoarsely whispered, for fear that Marchosias may somehow hear your heresy. "I ask him for healing before this got worse, but he keeps pushing me aside, saying he'll find the cure. Brilliant-minded he was, but now....h-he's become mad over killing you. He cares not for us anymore."
They blinked, yet remained cautious. "So..you're saying you've defected from his pack?"
"I found out the truth...this Rot has told me so." You rasped, scratching at your skin. "It was never his....never his to take. The Cold Mother wants her home back....wants to see him suffer..for his crimes and cruel experiments. You'll slay him, won't you, new god of death?"
"That's my intention." The crown returned to its original shape, floating back to the top of their wooly head.
You smiled, although your expression quickly morphed into one of intense pain as you suddenly--and violently--retched onto the ground, blood and chunks of rot splattering across the snow.
Lamb grimaced slightly, having seen their Rotten Followers puke up similar substances--sights that they were still trying to get accustomed to even now. But at least they didn't see any eyeballs in your case.
"S-Sorry..." You brushed the blood off your lips, embarrassed. "That....only started just now."
"It will only get worse. You won't survive one more day like this. Not when a blizzard is coming." They frowned and stepped closer. "I possess the means to cure you."
You perked up, eyes full of hope.
"But...you must join my flock. I'll give you more freedom than what that brutish wolf promised you. You'll be healthy and whole again. You'll know how it feels to be given a warm shelter and fresh food on the coldest winter nights."
"Ah..the Bishop I once followed told me similar lies. But the Heathen showed me true freedom, c-cut my leash loose. Yet it feels like he just put a different one on me." You began to feel conflicted with yourself. With what you wanted and if you could put your trust in someone of higher status for a third time. "How could he scorn the Gods when he made us worship him like one?"
"He ought to look in the mirror, but....after our last meeting I'm afraid he won't ever do that again." Lamb shook their head, giving you an all-too-gentle smile. "So...will you accept my offer, or let this Rot consume you whole?"
For a moment you were silent.
But ultimately...they've convinced you.
"I...don't want to die here. I don't want this to consume me any more than it already has." You kneeled before them, clasping your paws together, ready to serve them and be rid of this rotten sickness. "I'll be loyal to you, Lamb. You have my word."