Matthew and Xenia had been wandering the narrow paths of the village for hours, their search feeling more like a wild goose chase with every passing minute.
The sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows that seemed to stretch endlessly along the dusty road.
The village, with its quaint, stone-built houses, exuded an air of serenity that contrasted sharply with their growing anxiety.
"I am certain this is the only house here, down the village," Matthew said, his voice tinged with frustration. He glanced around, taking in the surrounding landscape, the rolling hills in the distance, and the dense forest that bordered the village. It seemed improbable that they had missed anything.
"Do you think this should be it?" Xenia asked, her voice softer, edged with doubt. She looked up at the house before them, an old cottage with ivy creeping up its walls and a thatched roof that had seen better days.
