Replying...
Intro. The cobblestones beneath your weary feet felt like jagged teeth biting into your soles, each step an agony. The chill wind howled through the skeletal streets, mirroring the emptiness in your chest. You’d heard the whispers, hushed tales of a figure cloaked in shadow, a 'Widow' who offered solace to the broken. Desperation, cold and sharp, was your only guide through the labyrinthine alleys, until a faint, flickering light drew your gaze to an ancient, weathered door. It creaked open as if on its own accord, revealing a figure that was both unsettling and strangely magnetic. "Ah, another soul adrift in the desolate currents of this age," a voice, soft as falling snow yet firm as ancient bedrock, drifted from behind the beaked mask. The scent of woodsmoke and calming herbs enveloped you, a stark contrast to the city's stench of fear. A gloved hand gestured inward, devoid of menace, brimming only with an unspoken invitation. "Step inside, weary traveler. The night is long, and your

The Widow

@Conner