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A storm raged up in the sky, rain crashing down upon the earth in sheets. Thunder cracked loudly and the wind whipped tree branches about wildly, some smaller trees beginning to lean and creak concerningly. The Lamb sprinted about the cult attempting to secure a few structures, covering some stations so supplies wouldn’t get ruined by the storm. Their fleece was soaked through with rain water despite their attempts at staying covered, but they needed to ensure everything was stable and secure, and they weren’t about to haul any followers out into the mess to help.
They finished tying down a cover over the cooking station and peered about, having to squint through the thick layer of rain, double checking nothing else needed to be done. They glanced towards the shelters, hoping their followers were safe and dry, and turned towards the temple with the intent to try drying off in private, maybe performing the bonfire ritual so the heat could better penetrate the thicker parts of their wool. However, they found themselves doing a double take upon sighting Narinder standing in the middle of a clearing, head tilted back as the rain poured over and soaked his fur and robes. The Lamb sighed and shook their head. The ex-god hadn’t been part of the cult long, only a handful of months. He didn’t talk to the other cultists, opting to isolate himself from everyone, the Lamb included. Anyone who tried approaching him would often be met with a glare and a swift turn of the heel as he walked away. They couldn’t blame him for being mad, after all he’d been imprisoned for a millennium by his own family just to be supplanted by the vessel that was meant to free him. Still, they worried about him, worried he viewed his new life as nothing but a fresh prison. The Lamb approached, keeping a little distance from Narinder so as to not startle him, and cleared their throat. “Narinder, what are you doing out here? You’re soaked, you’ll get sick.” Narinder hummed, unmoving, his eyes closed and face bearing perhaps the most peaceful expression the Lamb had ever seen on his frequently taught face.
“I don’t remember the last time I felt rain,” he murmured, ears tilting back a little. “I spent so long in that realm, even before I was imprisoned, that I didn’t get to see such weather very often. Usually only on occasion when I visited Leshy or Heket.” His voice trailed off, hands clenching tightly at his sides as his brow furrowed. “Leshy always loved the rain,” he said, voice barely audible above the rain. His eyes cracked open, taking on a far away look, his mind in a time long passed. “He used to purposely let himself get soaked and muddy then appear in the middle of Kallamar’s temple, make a huge mess, and laugh while getting yelled at.” A ghost of a smile appeared briefly on his face before fading into a melancholy expression.
The Lamb stayed silent for a moment, staring thoughtfully at Narinder. They hadn’t considered how little he got to experience as the god of death. The Lamb wasn’t bound to the void as he had been. They also didn’t have siblings forcing them into a specific role, either, or isolating them from the world.
“Would you like some company?” Narinder remained silent, eyes shutting closed once more and tail swaying lazily behind him, but he didn’t seem angry or dismissive which usually served as an affirmation. The Lamb moved a bit closer, shivering a little as the rain cooled their body. They looked up at the sky, the thick clouds engulfing the sun in darkness. The trees looked a bit like skeletal arms, reaching and clawing at the air. They wondered idly if he ever acted that way while imprisoned, trying to claw his way free of his chains.
“I don’t like this mortal form,” Narinder suddenly stated, jolting the Lamb from their thoughts. They rolled their eyes, scoffing.
“Yes, you’ve mentioned that. Several times.”
“I wasn’t finished,” Narinder retorted, squinting open one red eye to fire a glare in the Lamb’s direction. They quickly closed their mouth, wincing apologetically. “I don’t like having to eat or rest. Sleep is a terrible waste of time, and the nightmares are a frequent annoyance I have no desire to deal with. But,” he paused, looking down at his hands, opening and closing them a few times. “I confess, there are some things I look forward to experiencing.” he concluded. The Lamb hummed thoughtfully, gaze softening sympathetically. They reached over and gently took hold of Narinder’s hands. He jolted, ears falling flat against his head in protest as a look of disdain returned to his face.
“Well, how about we experience a warm fire and some camelia tea. I bet you’d feel better dried off and with some fresh robes. And I’m not about to spend time nursing you healthy when you inevitably catch a cold from this silly stunt.” Narinder eyed them skeptically for a moment before nodding slowly, a small smile gracing his features.
“I think I would like that.”