Clark moved ahead of the others and knelt on one knee in front of the corpse on the throne. The spindly limbs of the rotten guardian wrapped around the body and the head looked at them with lifeless eyes.
The rotten wooden face would have had more details but they had clearly degraded. All that was left was what was better described as a wooden skill wrapped by rotting wooden vines. This was the face of a harvest guardian that had refused to move on when their partner perished. It could have become one with nature again instead of rotting here.
The rotten guardian froze as it saw the familiar act of praying for a passed on soul. Clark even lowered his head and copied the movements of those in the mural perfectly. This made the rotten guardian direct its attention to the three that were not moving.
