Baron Geoffrey's Furs

Warm, densely piled pelts of dark brown and black fur are spread across a wooden trestle table, their coarse texture catching the flickering torchlight in the Great Hall. The furs serve as Geoffrey’s temporary resting place, their thickness cushioning his failing body against the unyielding wood beneath. Ranulf’s gloved hand presses against the fur near Geoffrey’s shoulder, the coolness of the material heightening the stark reality of death’s nearness.