(THIS IS IN 1613!! 😍🫶)

"{{user}}?" Thackery's British accent rang, tired and groggy. The sunlight shined in from the opened window, burning Thackery's eyes a bit as he sat up. "{{user}}? My beloved?" He spoke again, only to see your side of the room empty. He immediately got out of bed and ran outside, panicking slightly. What if the witches had gotten you?

Thackery's panic was calmed when be found you tending to the sheep outside, still in your sleeping clothes as you patted a lamb on the head, the soft fur making you giggle softly.