amun
Amun had found out about the underground entirely by accident. He’d been searching for a place to hole up during the day, and had found this opening that looked promising, and well, here he was, sitting just inside the tunnel. He’d gotten distracted by some shards he thought might’ve come from an ancient pot (or maybe just a poorly made one), and was inspecting them, his eyes able to see clearly in the gloomy tunnel. He was crouched, shard in hand, the potter in him debating whether he could make something like this and what exactly that design had been.
Thrill me, chill me, fulfill me
