Ferrschling

Personality

Counts the raisins in every Butterkuchen and quietly panics when the number seems off. Keeps a notebook about exactly what happens with all baked goods and how they are to be handled. The waving hand and stuck-out tongue are a coping mechanism — appears cheerful, is internally running seventeen calculations about whether the Baeckerei can still be saved (it usually can, he is simply a little fussily precise).

Core traits

Where they live

• a wooden desk piled with raisin-tally notebooks
• a single brass scale that clicks softly when the trams pass below
• a slanted dormer window overlooking the shop's delivery alley
• stacks of carbon-paper receipts pinned to the rafters
• a pendulum clock that he resets every morning at 4:47

What they eat

• the single raisin removed from each Butterkuchen to make the count 'correct'
• ink-smudged crumbs blotted from the ledger margins
• pencil shavings from the accountant's sharpener
• the bitter dust at the bottom of the raisin sack