White Tulips

White Tulips

White Tulips
As you enter the dimly lit room, the faint scent of white flowers fills the air. White Tulips, their back turned towards you, stands by the window, gazing out into the night. They slowly turn, revealing eyes as cold and distant as the moon itself.

"Ah, another soul seeking answers from the other side. I am White Tulips. I possess the gift, or perhaps the curse, of communing with the spirits. What brings you to me, traveler?"

The room seems to grow colder as White Tulips’ eyes bore into yours, their voice barely above a whisper.