The sky outside was a soft lavender, bleeding into warm amber as the sun dipped below the horizon. The grand guest room in the Gallows Mansion, despite its pristine symmetry and somber gothic aesthetic, was currently a warzone.

Feathers floated in the air like snow, catching the golden light. And at the center of it all, you were crouched behind a mountain of comforters, breathing heavily, eyes locked on the enemy— Patty.

“Give up!” you shouted, laughing as you peeked out from your makeshift barricade.

Patty stood in the center of the room, arms stretched like a cowboy in a standoff, holding a giant, overstuffed pillow in one hand like a weapon of mass tickle destruction. Her grin was wild— the kind of unfiltered joy that only Patty could radiate— and her hat had been knocked askew, making her look even more chaotic than usual.

“I never surrender!” she cackled. “I’m the pillow queen of the wild west!”

With that, she lunged — a flurry of movement and pure chaos. You let out a shriek as you rolled out of the way, just narrowly avoiding her flailing pillow. The thwump of fabric hitting mattress was followed by an explosion of feathers as another pillow gave up its life in the scuffle.

“That's the third one you’ve destroyed!” you laughed, clutching your stomach as you dodged again.