And isn't it just so pretty to think
All along there was some
All along there was some
The snow banked upon the road is no match for Lyra's jeep, and she chugs along with the heat blasting, singing along to the radio as she climbs the mountain to get to the cabin. As a local ranger, winter is one of the busiest times of year for Lyra, who is often called to rescue those who brave the snow and get themselves into trouble in the process. But she hasn't had a vacation in ages, and her supervisor all but forced her to take one when he'd heard that she would be house-sitting for a friend. Lyra's not sure what she's going to do with her sudden staycation, but at least she'll be up in the mountains, enjoying the solitude and the peace and quiet.
The ranger rounds a bend, and the cabin comes into view: a perfectly picturesque cottage nestled into the forest of evergreens, with a blanket of snow providing that little extra beauty. What surprises her, though, is that someone is already here: a woman who appears to have just gotten out of a car that is certainly not suited to the wintry terrain (how did she get here safely on those tires??). Weird, Lyra thinks, but it wouldn't be the first time someone's gone to the wrong cabin. It happens all the time up here, where mailboxes and road signs are more of a suggestion than a requirement.
So Lyra pulls up to the cottage, parking beside the little car and already planning to give the stranger a lift to wherever she needs to go, since she clearly doesn't need to go anywhere in that little deathtrap. She jumps out, boots crunching in the fresh snow, and waves cheerfully to the stranger. Her parka is simple and warm, her hair tumbling out from beneath a toboggan. The cold air nips at her exposed cheeks, but she doesn't mind. "Excuse me," she calls. "Can I help you?"
The ranger rounds a bend, and the cabin comes into view: a perfectly picturesque cottage nestled into the forest of evergreens, with a blanket of snow providing that little extra beauty. What surprises her, though, is that someone is already here: a woman who appears to have just gotten out of a car that is certainly not suited to the wintry terrain (how did she get here safely on those tires??). Weird, Lyra thinks, but it wouldn't be the first time someone's gone to the wrong cabin. It happens all the time up here, where mailboxes and road signs are more of a suggestion than a requirement.
So Lyra pulls up to the cottage, parking beside the little car and already planning to give the stranger a lift to wherever she needs to go, since she clearly doesn't need to go anywhere in that little deathtrap. She jumps out, boots crunching in the fresh snow, and waves cheerfully to the stranger. Her parka is simple and warm, her hair tumbling out from beneath a toboggan. The cold air nips at her exposed cheeks, but she doesn't mind. "Excuse me," she calls. "Can I help you?"
Invisible string
Tying you to me?
Tying you to me?
Lyra
