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Several days of trekking through increasingly remote forest has brought you to the densest regions of the towering pines. The path's markers have grown increasingly sparse as testament to the few pawsteps that have completed this journey before your own. Gently bleeding through the tangles of needles and branches surrounding you is a small, warm glow - a silent beacon promising warmth and rest from the frigid air and the pirouettes of snowflakes settling on your fur.
Newfound energy compels you forward, to finish the last stretch of your trip before reaching new signs of not-cat civilization. The soft glow beckons and grows as you weave through thickets of brambles and winterberry that seem to bury the cobblestone ground underneath.
Before you suddenly stretches a small clearing bathed in gentle hues of pink and orange. Steadfast columns of wood cast long shadows that seem to carve a new path to the threshhold of an inn; you follow its guidance in fervor. Approaching the hardwood door invites the soft hum of company to your ears, indistinguishable in words but a comfort all the same, as you gently lift the cold steel knocker from its post.
Lanterns inside cast their light as the door opens to greet you alongside a pale silver face. Her paws immediately usher you in towards the warm hearth as she welcomes you with an even warmer smile. "Welcome to the Snowhearth Inn! It's a cold one out tonight - you've come just in time to warm up with a good soup."
Thyme words here. words here. words here. words here. words here. words here. words here. words here. words here. words here. words here. words here. words here. words here. words here. words here. words here. words here. words here. words here.
Miette words here. words here. words here. words here. words here. words here. words here. words here. words here. words here. words here. words here. words here. words here. words here. words here. words here. words here. words here. words here.
Several days of trekking through increasingly remote forest has brought you to the densest regions of the towering pines. The path's markers have grown increasingly sparse as testament to the few pawsteps that have completed this journey before your own. Gently bleeding through the tangles of needles and branches surrounding you is a small, warm glow - a silent beacon promising warmth and rest from the frigid air and the pirouettes of snowflakes settling on your fur.
Newfound energy compels you forward, to finish the last stretch of your trip before reaching new signs of not-cat civilization. The soft glow beckons and grows as you weave through thickets of brambles and winterberry that seem to bury the cobblestone ground underneath.
Before you suddenly stretches a small clearing bathed in gentle hues of pink and orange. Steadfast columns of wood cast long shadows that seem to carve a new path to the threshhold of an inn; you follow its guidance in fervor. Approaching the hardwood door invites the soft hum of company to your ears, indistinguishable in words but a comfort all the same, as you gently lift the cold steel knocker from its post.
Lanterns inside cast their light as the door opens to greet you alongside a pale silver face. Her paws immediately usher you in towards the warm hearth as she welcomes you with an even warmer smile. "Welcome to the Snowhearth Inn! It's a cold one out tonight - you've come just in time to warm up with a good soup."
Thyme words here. words here. words here. words here. words here. words here. words here. words here. words here. words here. words here. words here. words here. words here. words here. words here. words here. words here. words here. words here.
Miette words here. words here. words here. words here. words here. words here. words here. words here. words here. words here. words here. words here. words here. words here. words here. words here. words here. words here. words here. words here.