Eternal Night Society

The Count - woven blanket

$125.00 USD

~~$99.99 USD~~ $125.00 USD

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Sizes 50" x 60" 60" x 80"

Some appetites can't be satisfied with blood alone.

For three centuries, The Count has ruled from his castle of shadows - powerful, immortal, and achingly alone. The chalice holds what sustains his body, but not what his soul craves.

This heirloom woven blanket captures the weight of eternal solitude in intricate pen and ink detail - from the gothic arches of his domain to the dramatic sweep of his cape.

The deepest hunger isn't for life... it's for someone who truly sees you. Perfect for those who understand that loneliness isn't about being alone - it's about being unseen.

Eternal Night Society - Where Outcasts Become Legends

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Product Information

Product features:

100% cotton yarn with mystical
colorful fringe
Woven by moonlight on enchanted looms
(okay, regular looms, but we like the drama)
Soft as a ghost's whisper

Product specs:

50" x 60" Throw Blanket perfect for solo coziness
60" x 80" Queen Size large enough to snuggle with your sweetie

Product care:

Machine wash cold (like our hearts)
Air dry laying flat (in eternal repose) preferred but can tumble dry low
Use a mesh laundry bag for washing and drying to protect fringe from tangling like a spider’s web in a tornado
Easy care no harsh cleaners or dry cleaning

Softly Gothic

We wove a cloud into a blanket - soft enough to dream in, bold enough to own

Fit for a Castle

Woven with intention. Textured weave, decorative fringe—the kind of blanket that fits right in any respectable castle.

Choose Your Size

Choose throw size for solo snuggles or queen size for you and your favorite weirdo.

Easy Blanket TLC

Gentle wash in a mesh bag, low heat or hang dry, no harsh cleaners. Keep it cozy, and it'll keep you cozy right back—forever (okay, well maybe not forever, but a long time).

The Hunger

For three centuries, he ruled the night alone.

It hadn't always been this way. In the early years, the loneliness had driven him to try - to offer immortality to those who seemed different, deeper, worth knowing for eternity. But living forever didn't cure smallness of spirit. They carried their pettiness into endless nights, still bickering over slights, still chattering about trivial nonsense while he ached to discuss the mysteries unfolding around them. Surrounded by immortals, yet completely unseen - that was the torture. No one could witness the vastness of what he'd discovered, what he'd felt across centuries.

So he stopped trying. Better to be alone than to drown in meaningless chatter for eternity.

He retreated to his castle, to his books and shadows, and told himself solitude was enough. The loneliness became a familiar weight - the knowledge that he would never be truly known, never be seen, never share the wonder of existence with another soul.

The Count learned to live with the ache. What choice did he have?

Some hungers, he believed, were never meant to be satisfied.