Der Tod und das Mädchen
@archontem
The intense aroma of boiling cabbage hangs in the air like tendrils drawing her towards the kitchen. On an empty stomach, Cassandra Pentaghast is nothing if not impulsive, and the fact that she shouldn’t feel all too much at home between these old, soot-covered stone walls doesn’t deter her from snatching a pre-dinner treat off the kitchen counters.
She’s out again before the mistress and her many pairs of helping hands notice the missing chunk of cheese.
The industrial kitchens of the Grand Necropolis are a maze to her, more so now than the actual criss-cross of pathways connecting the whole complex–––––and so she ambles, with eyes as large as they are dark, through corridors without aim or care, perfectly content to nibble on her snack for as long as it lasts.
Maybe she’ll go back with another. The cooks better hurry up with dinner.