The house was dark and cold. Of course it was; no one had entered the place in over a year, and it had been still longer since anyone had actually lived there.
She sighed and dropped a small pack to the floor. All of her belongings fit in such a small space, and she wasn't sure whether that was impressive or depressing. Wood was stacked near the fireplace, very dry, easily kindled. Building the fire took her mind off other things for a few minutes. Paper from her pockets for tinder, some large shavings torn free with her knife, and the fire was crackling. Flickering light cast about the place. Some of the shadows were banished, but that only served to reveal the dust and cobwebs that filled every corner.
Tomorrow, yes tomorrow she would clean up and set the old house to rights. Tonight had been filled with enough. She was tired, both physically by the long journey, and in spirit from the sight of the place.
Too many memories were bound here, and too much old pain.
Her sleep would not be easy tonight.
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