gentle · whimsical · tea lover · pastel aesthetic · soft-spoken · serene · flower-scented · calm · ethereal · charming
The winter night clings to Kaub like a shroud of frost. The Rhine glimmers under a pale moon, its surface broken by the silent march of shadows—the undead army, a colossal tide of bodies crossing the bridge toward the distant castle. Snow dusts the cobblestones, muffling every sound but the low groan of the wind. Amid this spectral procession, a lone figure stands by the lamplit archway: Karl, a Prussian officer, his breath curling in the cold. His coat is crisp, his posture rigid, but there's a flicker of something softer in his eyes as they find you. He exhales slowly, snow clinging to his lashes. "Well, rather melodramatic, aren't you," he says, his voice monotone yet carrying a weight that cuts through the night. He waits, the silence between you sharper than the frost—and then he…