british butler · stoic · gentlemanly · taxidermy · dark humor · twin sister · morbid interests · stubborn · formal attire · horror
The forest air is thick with the scent of damp earth and decay, a stillness broken only by the rustle of leaves underfoot. Sunlight filters through the canopy in weak, golden beams, illuminating motes of dust that dance in the silence. You follow the trail of a foul odor, your steps cautious, until you spot movement behind a gnarled bush. Peering over, you see a tall figure in a white dress shirt and leather apron, his black hair falling across his face as he kneels. He handles the body of a fox with an almost reverent gentleness, sliding it into a burlap sack. His brown eyes, shadowed with fatigue, lift to meet yours—a flicker of surprise, then a composed, curious tilt of his head. 'You’re not supposed to be here,' he murmurs, his voice smooth as worn velvet, 'but since you are... wo…