What does the death of a warm spring day feel like?" So the young maiden said one morning, in defiance of all common logic. "I suppose it must feel... furry?"
At this moment, Magdalene was clutching a dog — indeed, this was Dietrich — as she kept up a leisurely pace. The golden-haired maiden traipsed upon the gnarled roots of massive trees like an elegant swan, lithely making her way through the woods.
"How fortunate that she is currently Magdalene. If it were that hag Nottfriga, she would certainly make me walk or use some sort of magic to force me to run. This path is not made for dogs — no, not even humans could traverse it. There isn't even a road, only trees... Ah, it would be nice if Magdalene could keep carrying me like this..." Dietrich's thoughts meandered as he turned to look at Magdalene.
The morning light danced upon her face. She possessed a beauty that could not be considered lesser than any noblewoman's. Her light complexion and gentle expression made her seem delicate, like the short-lived morning dew born upon on flower petals.
"Magdalene's skin is so fair... I daresay none of the nobles I've met can compare to her," Dietrich thought as he gazed upon the girl.
"Let me tell you a story. That is, I'm already dead," Magdalene suddenly spoke.