RosyBoaTea's Clan

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Feel free to call me Reed/Dirt
He/They
Gay INFP-T

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The bones of The Wylderwound are like teeth waiting to strike. An unfortunate victim would be lucky to make it out alive of the dark pit. Though they have become jagged and broken over the centuries, they grow in power and fear. The liquid of the Wound is corroded and shrouded in disease. One-touch and your skin might sizzle away. One-touch and your brain might tell your body to jump into the molten pool. One-touch and your organs might all burst into flames of sickness. Don't visit the sacred land if you are not part of the colony or you will be punished in a way worse than torture. Nothing is worse than torture you say? Well, why don't you find out for yourself?
Though, if you are truly destined to become a member of the plague, even if you resist, you will be brought to your true glory. Look into the Wylderwound's boiling disease, maybe even just touch a claw, and your life will change before your eyes. Extending, your claws grow sharper. Multiplying, your eyes melt to a puddle. And mouth filled with bubbling acid, your body slowly gives away to the plague. The reflection you see in the corrupted shine of the Wound is now perfect, or at least that is what you hear in the popping of the infected bubbles. You smile faintly, revealing rotted poisonous teeth. As you start to walk away, claws like daggers start climbing the walls of the infected pool, reaching for you. Though your body screams run, your mind tells you to embrace the change. Slowly, hundreds of dragon claws infected by the plague make deep scars all over your body. And though you try to scream nothing comes out, and you are dragged into the Wylderwound to join the others. Even though the water is boiling, you feel as if it is the perfect temperature, and the last thing you hear for decades is the Plaguebringer herself, whispering faintly in your ear.
"Welcome."

This clan hoards all rat and mice food. save them.