The heavy clouds tinged the sky with pale shades of gray and violet. A soft mist stretched between the ancient tombs, dancing slowly among the darkened stone gravestones. The muffled sound of footsteps on the gravel interrupted the melancholy silence of the afternoon.
Alexa walked calmly, holding a small bouquet of white lilies wrapped in a black ribbon. She wore a simple dress, a dark overcoat, and boots that sank slightly into the damp earth. Even her cheerful orange hair seemed dead and tired. The wind blew lightly, blowing her hair back and revealing tired but steady eyes.
Next to the iron gate, leaning on a shovel with a lit cigarette in the corner of his mouth, the gravedigger watched silently. He was a tall man with weather-beaten skin and yellow eyes that shone even under the shadow of his hood. Despite his aged appearance, there was something... ancient about him. Wild. Almost feral.
