Amid the snap and crackle of the evening's hearth-fire, the young woman moved in and around and through the flickering pools of golden light. She was not a great beauty, nor possessed of any impressive stature or figure, yet her countenance seemed as serene and content as anyone could ever be. She carried things to and from the kitchen, just off the common room of the small house, weaving expertly around the little orange-and-white cat who trailed her steps and chirruped hopefully for dropped morsels. As the late-winter evening darkened the windows, she found herself stifling a gentle yawn behind the back of her hand.
A wooden tray sat atop the iron stove, with a protecting towel beneath. She scooped a ladle of slow-simmering stew into a bowl, and laid a spoon beside it. It was hard to tell what a stranger might like or dislike, but as far as she knew, most people liked sweet things. A bundle of crumpled brown paper, stamped with the name of a Bree-town baker, was on the dining table behind her, and was torn open at one end. Beside the stew, she delicately arranged two fresh, sticky currant-buns. Another towel was draped over the tray to keep the contents warm upon the stove, until the consumer of the food arrived.
The cat trilled again, and set a pricking claw into the hem of the woman's dress, tugging at it. The woman laughed softly, and fished a shred of rabbit-meat from the big pot over the fire, and dropped it to the floor.
She went to the wash-tub in the kitchen and scrubbed her hands clean, and dried them on her apron, before untying it and hanging it on its hook. Her right leg complained about the way she'd stood on it most of the afternoon while listening to the storyteller in Combe, and her limp was more pronounced than usual, but at least there was no one yet here to witness it.
She went to the front door and tested it to ensure it was not bolted. For a moment, she stood with her hands on her hips, gazing over the room. Finally, she gave a nod of approval, and then hobbled her way into the separate bedroom that was hers, beckoning the little cat to follow.
