She woke up, slowly, lying underneath a mound of soft blankets with her nose peeking out just enough to feel frosty. Soft green eyes flickered to the right and saw why: an open window, half smoked pipe and lighter resting on the windowsill. She blinked against the winter morning light, smiling at her familiar surroundings. Home.

It took a great deal of strength but she managed to sit up, arms stretching above and behind her as she let out a soft groan. At least I can finish this bowl. She thought with a smile, taking the pipe in hand. Talk about a wake and bake.

She carried her comforter with her as she carely ambled down the steps, mind pleasantly clouded and relaxed. Her brother, Dante, sat at the kitchen table intently focused on his computer, and barely acknowledged her as she glided barefoot past on the cool hardwood floor. She drew her blanket nearer as she came closer to the large windows taking up most of the westward kitchen wall and let her gaze wander over the glittering white snow blanketing the small yard between the house and a thick expansion of trees seemingly spanning an eternity.

"What happened to the lake?" She asked, breaking the stillness between them.

"Oh, it's…" Dante's eyes flickered towards the window as he spoke. "...probably frozen. Buried under the snow. Hard to see behind all those trees in the first place."

She hummed softly in response, shifting her weight and pressing her face against the cold glass. "I wish it was summertime."

The man took a deep breath and sighed. "Yeah, well… hey." He sniffed sharply and turned to narrow his eyes at her. "What's that smell?"

"Nothing." She said innocently, recoiling as he breath fogged up the window. With a smile, she began to trace circles in it with her fingers.

"You have weed, don't you?"

"Well of course I do. Want some?"

"Later." He snorted, turning back to his computer. "I've got a lot of work to do."

"Don't think you're skipping out on packing all this shit up with me just because you're sorting through all their paperwork Mr. Lawyer Man."

"Wouldn't dream of it, Fae Lynn." He muttered softly.

"I'm gonna explore, a little bit, today." She decided, speaking aloud more to herself than to her brother. "The paths I made around here, you know? I wanna see if it's all still there."

"Shall I join you?"

She chose not to reply, since the offer had mostly been out of politeness rather than genuine interest, and she knew this well. Instead she simply trotted further into the kitchen to make her breakfast.

"Don't spend all day doing drugs amd frollicking. There's work to be done, and the sooner we do it, the sooner all this is over."

As those words left Dante's lips, her stomach dropped. Over? Is this ever going to really be over?

Snow crunched beneath her feet as she trudged through the long untouched paths in those surrounding woods. Their lakeside cabin had always been so isolated, so disconnected from everything, it was like her own private wonderland. This is what Narnia feels like I bet. She remembered all the hunters that once roamed these woods, and now it looked so untouched.

She followed the most familiar path she could find, thankful that if worse came to worst and she got lost, she could always follow her footsteps back. She couldn't remember how close but there was an old hunting shack she used to play in and was determined to find it once more.

After a few miles of walking in circles and soaked boots she found what she thought, from a distance, was the decrepit old shack. As she approached it she found that it seemed almost new. Did… hunters move back here? She came around to the front, shivering in the cold. The shack indeed seemed new, but cold, and empty.

Taped to the front of the cabin was what looked like a crudely done child's drawing of what looked like a man… a sort of stick figure… standing beside an evergreen tree. Along the right side of the paper was the stacked letters spellin S. She exhaled slowly before reaching up and taking the paper with a smile. "Cool." She said aloud, folding the damp paper and putting it in her pocket.

Let's see here. She yanked on the handle but found the door sturdily locked. She walked around and cursed her height, since the only windows were about a foot and a half too high to reach, and eventually shrugged, pulled a j from her pocket and lit it. I guess I should try to find my way back home anyways.