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A waif looks for shelter |
The orange and red leaves were cool to the touch of her bare feet. Autumn was here and soon winter. She would have to find a place to sleep soon, night was falling. A candle showed in the window of a tiny cabin. Little more than a hovel, the ramshackle cottage still seemed inviting compared to the coolness of the night to come. The sun blazed red in the sky, and she made for the cabin. A knock on the door brought an old woman out of her chair by the miniscule fireplace. "I am sorry to bother you, but night is falling, and it will be cold soon. May I sleep on your floor tonight? I Will cook and clean, if necessary, as payment." She looked as pitiful as she could and held her arms about her frail shoulders. The old woman looked past her into the failing light of the east and then nodded. Opening the creaking door, the old hinges needed oil, she let her in. "Thank you for your generosity." "It is my pleasure dear. I am afraid there is nothing yet to eat. My woman is not yet back from today's hunting." The old woman said as she sat back down in one of a pair of rocking chairs. "It is alright...I have eaten my fill today. I just need a warm place to sleep." She absently fingered the newly acquired pendant on a leather cord about her swanlike neck. The old woman started and shivered as she caught sight of the pendant. The pendant she gave her woman on their handfasting day some forty years ago. She prayed to the Great God Droshenko that she would see her woman in the Spirit Realm soon as the waif approached with fangs bared. |