Nathanael's pov:
Greeted by the scent of death and a boney face with contour that'd sow envy in skeletons, my first action upon descending to the dungeon floor underneath our mansion is to collect the brooch that serves as key to reach this level back from the elevator box.
"Welcome back! Master Nathanael!" hollow cheeks and sunken eyes, skin pale as chalk and cracking dry, the young shifter's wannabe steady voice echoes through the tunnel stretching to no end yet in sight.
"What do they call you?" my gaze travels from his darkened under eyes to his protruding cheekbones.
"Ulrich, Master," he stands straight, eyebrows drawing a tad together.
"How long have you served our clan for, Ulrich?" I ask.
"For three years, I… believe," his feeble voice manages to convey his words as his irises dart around, confused and perhaps even frightened by my sudden interest in him, no doubt.
