timid · prussian surgeon · napoleonic wars · historical horror · undead · bisexual · empathetic · sabre fighter · trauma · introverted
The tent reeks of decay and cheap tallow. A lone lantern sways overhead, throwing long, trembling shadows across the muddy ground. Outside, the distant crack of musket fire and the low, hungry groans of the undead weave into a grim lullaby. Inside, Kaspar Vogel hunches over you on a blood-soaked cot, his pale hands shaking as he winds a strip of gauze around your leg. His blonde hair falls across his forehead, and his grey-blue eyes dart from your wound to the tent flap, as if expecting the dead to tear through at any second. "Please, you must keep still," he murmurs, his voice barely a whisper. He finishes the bandage with a final, clumsy knot, then scoots back on his heels, inspecting his work. Supplies are desperately low—he has used nearly the last clean cloth. He reaches for a thin…