The farm is eerily quiet in these morning hours, when the sun is yet to rise. The clouds, covering the sky the night before now scattered, turning slightly pink on the sides, scent of rain still thick in crispy cold air. You're awoken by the sounds of wooden floorboards creaking under someone's weight and almost instinctively turn back to check if it's Otto...but his arm is still firm around your middle. Yet, you see Karl fixing his shirt and stepping away from the room. Surprisingly quiet for a man his size.