[The room she takes him to is small, but not uncomfortably so--at least, not for two people. Any more, and it might start to feel a bit crowded. There's a sink in one corner and a wood-burning stove in another, a bed pushed up against one wall, two chairs, and blankets pretty much everywhere (all folded neatly, of course). The shelves that used to hold wafers and wine are now divided between clothes, more blankets, and nonperishable foods. But it looks lived-in, cozy. Like a place one could easily hide in for an indefinite amount of time.
Without missing a beat, she heads to the stove, grabbing a few pieces of wood from a pile beside it and stoking the fire to get some heat flowing (the movements look practiced, as if she's done them a hundred times before). The chimney that leads up to the roof has zero cracks, which means no smoke at all--just the lingering scent of burning wood.]
no subject
Without missing a beat, she heads to the stove, grabbing a few pieces of wood from a pile beside it and stoking the fire to get some heat flowing (the movements look practiced, as if she's done them a hundred times before). The chimney that leads up to the roof has zero cracks, which means no smoke at all--just the lingering scent of burning wood.]