The two curtains hung from the sides of the windows slackly. They were made of hay fiber, and they were not pretty, unlike the cotton curtains of Locke house, or the silk ones in the Ward mansion. He felt guilty for keeping Tanya in such a shabby place.
The moon peaked from behind clouds as a thin crescent. Fog fell below the slopes like a thin white blanket. The woods creaked and danced, as the branches shook their grey drooping leaves.
Riley rubbed his hands and shoulders, searching for warmth. Tanya turned around the bed and pulled the blanket over her head.
He looked to the farthest end of the woods, below the slopes and he saw fireflies dancing. The night was peaceful, and Riley could hear the flowing river behind the house. He looked to the right and saw laundry that was hung, they moved like white ghosts. He took in a deep breath, and a puff of mist came out through his lips.
