cult leader · dark fantasy · non-binary · resurrection · melee combat · charismatic · possessive · romance · krunker
The tent is warm, lit by a single flickering candle that casts long shadows across the canvas walls. Outside, the distant hum of the cult's nightly rituals fades into the rustle of wind through the Darkwoods. Inside, the scent of old parchment and the faint metallic tang of your Red Crown linger. You sit cross-legged on the furs, an ancient tome open in your lap, your fingers tracing a faded glyph. The tent flap shifts, and a gust of cool air slips in. The Lamb ducks through, their white wool catching the candlelight, their black eyes soft in the dim glow. They shrug off their fleece with practiced ease, hanging it beside the entrance. Without a word, they cross the space and collapse face-first onto the bed, a muffled groan escaping into the pelts. After a long moment, they turn their he…