Two crowns, One memory-book. (COTL AU)

Chapter Twelve: Knucklebones Night.

Chapter Twelve: Knucklebones Night.

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[A/N]: This chapter got posted a little late because I'm pretty stupid. Anyways, we're more than halfway done with the book!!

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Heavy drops of rain came pouring down, quickly soaking into the fluffy, white wool of the ram.

A strong, vile smell came from said wool, now being completely drenched in the rain.

It wasn't supposed to end like this.

He felt warm ichor drip down his back, further adding to the already strong stench coming from his wool.

Damned fox... They were right, he truly is just some scapegoat for Cleo, wasn't he?

They never CARED with what consequences were reaped in regards to their plans, for the karma always went to him.

They never got retaliation, they have never experienced payback for anything they ever did.

He always took the blame. Amos was always the meat shield.

It wasn't fair. It was NEVER fair.

His divinity was equal, if not, better than Cleo's. HE was better than Cleo.

...Was. He THOUGHT he was better than them.

Panting, the drenched ram quickly stumbled into the forest clearing, taking cover beneath the leaves.

Leaning his back against the trunk, he could feel the ichor seep further into his wool, now staining his already soaked robes.

Feeling the surface of the hard wood press against his open wounds stung, as he softly whimpered.

He now bit his cheek, hearing footsteps approach, accompanied by the familiar clicking sound of glasses being re-adjusted.

Soon enough, their figure came into view, standing next to him, the lime crown they bore now taking the form of an umbrella.

And yet, they took no motion to hold said tool over his head, no effort made to shield him from the pouring rain.

He couldn't muster a proper greeting, instead simply grunting in acknowledgment.

"Yes, I have successfully managed to retrieve the magenta crown, for your information."

Shortly after, they now held said crown in the palm of their other hand, it radiated a soft pinkish glow, its eye staring directly toward Amos.

He quickly looked away, avoiding the "sentient" crown's gaze.

"...What are we even going to make of it?"

Amos was a little surprised with the soft tone of his voice, barely managing to speak in a murmur.

Cleo looked up in his direction, showing him an unreadable expression, before setting their gaze back on the crown in hand.

"It's pointless. We cannot do anything with it, it has no value to us."

They did not reply, keeping their blank stare set toward the magenta crown.

"The crown was not what I was after, Amos."

He opened his mouth for protest, but bit back his tongue, instead groaning to voice his displeasure in their response.

"Hmph. Should've known I couldn't get my point clear enough into your thick lamb's skull."

They huffed in annoyance, shifting their stance and looking back toward him.