[h3]The Hunter's Dream[/h3]
For the first time since meeting her, standing there in the darkened Dream and hearing the tune of an otherworldly singer, Gerlinde's perpetual smile faltered. Though her experiences had rendered her all but literally fearless, even she found it somewhat difficult to sustain her enthusiasm and optimism in the face of what her instincts screamed at her was existential danger.
Rather than bolt like Ophelia or stand her ground and prepare to fight like Farren, Gerlinde instead cautiously lowered herself into a crouch to make herself smaller and crept up closer to the mass of headstones near the birdbath to make herself harder to see. She was not afraid, but for the first time since escaping that room in Byrgenwerth did she feel inclined to actually take her situation seriously. For once she was focused, and she readied the threaded cane that had never left her right hand while retrieving her Horn of the Old Lords with her left hand.

Ophelia running to the workshop would find the doll lying where they had left her, only rearranged into what would be a more comfortable position for an actual human to be in: on her back, her legs straightened and her hands folded on her stomach. Her eyes remained blank and still stared lifelessly into the ceiling and her clothes were a bit ruffled, but otherwise she could almost pass for a person that had simply lied down to sleep.
To the left of her, all the way up against the wall next to the other door out of the workshop, was Torquil. He stood with his back pressed against the wall, arms down his sides, and did not seem to notice Ophelia's arrival at all as he was busy paying attention to something he could see through the doorway, but which was not currently in Ophelia's field of view.

Farren, remaining expectantly where they had awakened, was the first out of him, Ophelia and Gerlinde to see the figure slowly walking along the path on the opposite end of the graveyard of the Dream. The [url=https://static.wikia.nocookie.net/bloodborne/images/8/89/Winter_Lantern_concept_art.jpg/revision/latest?cb=20180728152329]creature[/url] [I]somehow[/I] looked even more nightmarish than its discordant song sounded, striding calmly among the graves as if it was just taking a casual stroll, ignorant of its own nature as an eldritch horror. At its lower half it appeared to have a somewhat human-like body that even appeared somewhat feminine in shape, clad in a torn and bloodstained dress that looked like it had once been black with nice embroideries. The pair of arms extending from within the sleeves of the dress even had some semblance to human arms, only twisted and misshapen, like it had some sort of terrible growths all over them. But much more telling than those humanoid features was its decidedly inhuman top part, which replaced what would have been the head. A huge, bulging mass of throbbing tissue sat upon the figure's shoulders, taking the form of something that vaguely resembled a grotesquely large and mutated brain... covered in dozens of large, yellowed eyes. Eyes as big as Farren's head, eyes so small he could barely see them and everything in-between, looking everywhere and nowhere all at once, focusing at nothing but seeing everything. And from this hideous thing hung numerous appendages that seemed to be some unnatural cross of tentacles and segmented insect-legs, swinging as it moved but also twitching in a way that suggested they were capable of moving.
It did not seem to notice him yet, and just kept walking. Ponderously following the path. And singing its wicked melody.