Cottage in the Woods [Open]

  • A stucco-and-cobb cottage sat neatly in the middle of clearing, white snow highlighting careful carvings in the side surface and the lip of the thatch roofing. A handful of paces before the cottage, a moderate plot of earth lie with the obvious signs of clearing and tending for a winter garden. Two paces away from and beside the cottage, a wood-fired kiln sat, a thin curl of black smoke rising from its peak into the sky.  Another small cobb building sat two more paces beyond the kiln.

    From under an extended overhang on the cottage, a wax jute flap bulged before sliding to the side. From behind it, a matronly vixen stepped out into the snow with a soft crunch. Shivering for a moment, she pulled the brown shawl she wore tighter around her and trundled into the other small building. After a moment, she stepped back out into the open, several small pieces of timber carried in her arms.

    With only the soft crunching of snow, the vixen stepped over to the kiln. Setting the wood down, she wrapped a paw in her shawl and pulled open the door.  “Mmmm… Probably not done yet,” she mused aloud, eyes peering into the orange-glow.  With a sigh, she knelt before the heated edifice and started to gingerly feed the wood into the flames.

    One of the vixen's ears perked to noise. She ceased adding wood to and fanning the fire. “You can come out now,” she called out to whomever was there. “You needn't fear an old vixen like me.”

  • There is a rustling in the wood near by, a pair of red furred ears appear. One of them twitches as their owner is spotted. The beast behind the bushes gulps, nervously biting his paw.

    What to do what to do? Should he run, should he still remain quiet and hope the fox is talking to some other beast hiding in the shadows of the forrest?

    In the end the beast sighs, putting on his best smile as he replies, "Quite the contrary ma'am. I find foxes to be a most devious sort, no matter what their age. Especially since I am one of them."

    The beast steps slowly out of the woods, he isnt very tall for a red fox, wearing a dark leather vest about his chest and an otter hide belt about his waist. His winter fur makes him appear fluffier, especially around his middle. "My, uh, appologies ma'am. I did not mean to sneak up on you." He says while inwardly thinking, 'I ment for you to never know I was here.'

  • Aynur turned towards the new red fox, adjusting the glasses hanging halfway along her snout. She gave him a quick look up and down, before returning to feeding the fire before her. "Please," she said, letting a wry smile play across her expression, "call me 'Aynur'. "Ma'am' makes me feel like an old vixen." Feeding the last of the wood in, she closed the kiln and stood. The vixen stepped towards the flap-door to her home. "Come, let's get out of this cold, my young todd. I've tea on, and the company would be welcome."

  • (I will post tomarrow! looks at clock i will post today!)

  • Rascal wasnt sure what worried him more, the fact that this vixen didnt seem at all alarmed he was here, or surprised by his arival. Rubbing the back of his neck the fox bites his lip as he decides what to do. Tea sounded…nice.


    Where else would he go?

    "Aynur was it?" he says, stepping in5o his fellow foxes home, "You can call me...Rascal." it felt somewhat embarassing to say his name aloud for once. Most beasts wouldnt bat an eye at calling a fox Rascal. Most just chalked it up to it being some kind of vermin vulpine tradition, rather than a young kits attempt to give himself a cool sounding tital.

    With other foxes it was a bit redundant.

    "You live here, alone?" he asks.

  • Aynur nodded as he inquired to her name, holding open the flap that kept the cold outside and the warmth inside for him to step through. Following through -or entering first, if he insisted-, she would motion to the seats for him to take one.

    The interior of the cottage was warm and friendly, with unpainted stucco lining the walls up to the braces for the thatched roofing. The main room of two held a small fireplace for cooking and warmth, as well as a table, a few chairs, and an area obviously set aside for food preparation. Earthenware dishes of various types rested on a bit of shelving that hung neatly from one of the walls.

    Without even asking what his taste in tea was, Aynur moved to hang a kettle over the lit fire. "I do," she responded, turning back around to face the young fox. "Although, not until maybe a season or two ago. And before you go getting any ideas, my young todd, I should caution you that the women of my line are renowned for our perception of events yet to pass…"

  • The heavy set tod is busy taking in the humble surroundings when his head snaps towards the vixen. "Events yet to pass?"  he asks as if the beast is crazy. "Oh." he says with s9me reservation, "Your a /seer/. I mean…that's fine." he tries to nervously laugh, "I mean, I...Im not one to judge. And Im not one to take advantage of the hospitality of strangers by robbing them. My momma raised me right to be a propper scalewag and rob from only the rich."

    "The poor have less to steal." he chuckles. A moment passes before he adds somewhat awkwardly, "Not that I planned to rob you at all of course. I mean unless you had something really tasty and left it out to cool or had a treasure chest out in the open...I...I mean not now of course because you invited me in and..." he rambles on.

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