Maea
I feel it in the wind, my dear
The sun is gonna reappear
The sun is gonna reappear
In a dell between two sweeping hills about an hour's walk outside the Domicile, a cottage lay nestled into a winter-gray copse of trees. Bordering on overgrown, with evergreen vines snaking up the thick stone walls and a crooked chimney stack that looked about ready to fall in on itself, it was just large enough for two people - and some guests - who enjoyed their privacy. Surrounded by snow-covered fields, it looked cozy enough but came with a few drawbacks that the owners hadn't really considered when they chose to move in. One was the sheer amount of firewood it would take to keep two Ancients warm through the long winter, the other was the effort it would take to keep the road clear enough to get there and into the city. And the third was how difficult it might be for guests - or other services - to reach them, when they inevitably realized that they didn't want to do something themselves.
Maea had spent much of the day making rounds to the window to peer out through the snowfall for a sign of the firewood she had bought. The farmer had promised he'd get it delivered that day, but as the hours wound down and sunlight started to fade she was not only growing impatient, but actually worried. The kitchen table was laden with evergreens and ribbons, twigs and other fancies she had gathered, intending to decorate the common rooms to try and take her mind off the approaching LongNight. But so far only one wreath had been completed, and sat by the door, accusing her whenever she walked past for her inability to focus.
Maea had spent much of the day making rounds to the window to peer out through the snowfall for a sign of the firewood she had bought. The farmer had promised he'd get it delivered that day, but as the hours wound down and sunlight started to fade she was not only growing impatient, but actually worried. The kitchen table was laden with evergreens and ribbons, twigs and other fancies she had gathered, intending to decorate the common rooms to try and take her mind off the approaching LongNight. But so far only one wreath had been completed, and sat by the door, accusing her whenever she walked past for her inability to focus.
Good days are gonna come along
Hold on, hold on!
Hold on, hold on!
