@kejserlig || Liked the Starter Call
PERISHING COLD TORE through tattered clothing like hail through the delicate petals of lingering flowers, placed in remembrance. Shivers and chattering teeth echoed within the chapel, the earl himself nestled uncomfortably up within a corner where the windows were only partially cracked and no threats of damp lingered. ANOTHER NIGHT TO be spent among the dead, where their company was silent and unjudging, where he could be allowed to linger within bitter thoughts of the past and fester in solitude. He should have been home, he should have been attempting to get a fire roaring in an aged fireplace where he could be at ease in the terrible weather - but no. Instead he lingered, just as lost as the spirits that wandered.
