The Lounge's Winter Wonderland

[Britwitch]

Winter is coming. Bringing with it crisp air, a sparkling covering of white and a subtle hum of excitement that accompanies the end of the year.

Welcome to the Lounge's winter escape, a wonderland to hopefully inspire...

...and allow for new friendships to be formed.

As always, all are welcome here, please make yourselves at home!

Here in these enchanted woods the snow will stay for the duration and you'll find cozy cabins tucked away in the woods for those wishing to spend a lengthier stay and a little further afield there are frozen lakes for skating upon and hills just perfect for sledging or skiing.

Plus...with all this snow, it'd be a shame not to have a good old fashioned snowball fight...wouldn't it?

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[Britwitch]

Returning from the, now closed, Autumn Retreat she can't help but smile as she wanders down the snow covered pathways. Ice crystals sparkling all around.

I hope everyone enjoys this place as much as I intend to!

With a giggle she bangs off the snow from her boots and heads into the cabin in search of a hot chocolate and a place to snuggle.

 

[Britwitch]

There's writing to be done and this is the perfect place to do it.

Beautiful scenery, still and peaceful. It's ideal.

With her cocoa steaming in it's mug on the small table, Brit leans over her notebook and tries to put the finishing touches to her second contribution to the challenge.

 

[Scuttle Buttin']

Footprints were left in the snow, a path of steps cut through an otherwise untouched field of white. He was considerably more bulky than normal, a heavy coat, wool hat, gloves and boots adding to his size as he stalked through the cold. In front of him, each exhale turned to a fog that he stepped through, curtains of chilled air always swirling around his head.

Stepping finally through a clump of trees, he stopped and smiled as a cabin came into view. The lights were blazing in the sharp air, offering promises of warmth within. Flexing his fingers in his gloves, he set off again, crossing the distance left until he reached the small steps of the front porch.

Stomping the snow off his boots, he pulled the door open at last and stuck his head in.

"Hello?" he called, eyes scanning the interior. "Hellooooo?" he said again, this time in a sing-song voice. No one about, it seemed.

Stepping fully within, he pulled off his boots and set them beside the door, then stuffed the gloves in the pockets of his coat after pulling them off. The hat followed, his newly bared hands smoothing through his hair, and then he shrugged out of the coat and hung it on the nearby rack. Turning back to the room, he stood in socks of grey wool, with a red strip across the ends of his toes, and dark jeans. The blue flannel of his shirt was untucked, hiding the dark leather of his belt.

"First things first," he said to himself and the empty room before him. The wood beside the fireplace was fully stocked, and so he bent in front of the cold hearth and began to arrange logs.

 

[Britwitch]

It was cold, certainly, but warmer than it had been in recent days. The powder that had fallen in generous amounts was largely undisturbed away from the small track through the woods but as she broke through the tree line she spotted she was not the first to come to the cabin that day. Tracks too large for any animal that lived in the area led through the snow up to the door.

She'd left the lights on the last time she'd visited, a beacon should a wandering friend need shelter, and still they burned through the glass. Her curiosity awoken she picked up her speed and followed the footprints through the thick snow up to the steps of the lone house.

Boots were banged as she climbed the few steps leading from where grass grew in summer up to the front door, clumps of snow dropping from the bottom of her faded jeans along the way. A rapid series of shuffling stamps were given just before she tried the door to make sure as much snow as possible was shaken off before she went inside.

The first thing she spotted were the boots by the door, the second was the fire. Dancing merrily and already working to take the chill out of the air. Next came the sight of a coat and a familiar scent that lingered around it.

Lips curved into a smile as she eased off her own boots and shrugged off her own jacket. Hanging beside the one already upon the rack her eyes glanced around the room. No sign of anyone. She paused and considered, hands working instinctively to smooth her shirt across her chest and run back through her hair, settling down the cropped locks that the wind had ruffled along the way.

A fire first to ward off the cold, what would logically come next...?

Tea.

Smiling once more she padded silently across the room, towards where the small kitchen could be found. Leaning on the door frame, with one ankle crossing behind the other, she watched for a moment or two before breaking the silence of the cabin.

"Hello there, I wondered if anyone else would ever find this place."

 

[Scuttle Buttin']

The fire came to life easily, readily, tendrils of smoke curling up the cold chimney as the first yellow flames flickered into existence. He remained crouched before the, holding his hands towards the growing fire with his palms facing outwards until they had warmed, and the heat from the fire began to drift it's way into the room. Satisfied, he straightened and made his way into the kitchen to get a kettle ready and pull out the leaves.

The stomping on the wooden slats of the porch drifted through him through the walls, and he smiled as he folded back the unbuttoned cuffs on his flannel shirt, happy someone else had shown up. The water hit the bare bottom of the kettle as he heard the door pulled open, and he was lighting the small stove to boil the water when he finally heard the newcomer speak up.

"Ah... now there's an accent I'd recognize anywhere," he said with a grin, though his back was still to her. "Glad you made it through the snow, freckles," he added as he placed the kettle on the burner, half-turning finally so he could look at her with his grin still firmly in place. "Make you a cup?"

 

[Britwitch]

"I thought I might be the only one who remembered about this place," she admitted quietly, his grin being met with a widening one of her own. "I'm very glad to see I'm not."

There was a pause, her enjoying the view, before the floor was crossed and a warm hug given, her smile only brightening in the process as she pulled away slightly in order to answer his offer of refreshment.

"And I'd love one, please. Sounds the perfect thing to have after being out in the cold." A slightly different grin as one bright blue eye winked. "Well, one of a few perfect things at any rate."

"You make the tea. I'll find the biscuits. I'm sure there's a tin of them around here somewhere." She surveyed the kitchen with hands planted on her hips before spying a likely hiding place and moving to bend down in order to explore the cupboard she'd selected.

"I'm glad the snow finally came. Did you find your way here alright?" Her slightly muffled voice drifted back as her upper body started to delve deeper into the opened door.

 

[Scuttle Buttin']

His grin broadened a bit, and he shook his head as she approached.

"Of course not, freckles. It was just the holidays, and all the busyness that goes with it that kept me away."

His arms slip around her and he hugs her tight, a quiet laugh slipping from him at her wink.

"One of a few indeed. But you've got a deal. Why don't I just make us a pot? I think I left... hm..."

His voice trailed off as he turned and rose up onto his toes, opening high cabinet doors until he found what he was searching for.

"Ah, here. Mm."

From within, he pulled a found cast iron pot, painted pale green and decorated with raised pine needles. Setting on the counter below him, a warmer was pulled out next, simple black cast iron with a lid that pulled off so a tea light candle could be placed within, and placed next to the pot on the counter. A canister of loose black tea leaves was removed next, and he popped the lid off and stuck his nose into the opening, inhaling the scent of the tea.

"Mm," he said as he did, head bobbing in a slight nod, the lid and canister set on the counter separately before he continued, "No problems, despite the snow."

He opened a drawer to pull out a tea spoon, dipping it into the canister and removing the lid on the teapot to add it to the strainer.

"Though I will say," he added with a crooked grin and a glance over at her, "That living where I do now has not prepared me well at all for the cold and the snow."

 

[Britwitch]

There's a loud laugh and then a dull bump and a hushed expletive as she clearly bangs her head somewhere inside the cupboard as he mentions the problems with geography.

"I can easily believe that!" she pulls back out from the cupboard, rising to her feet with a tin in one hand and the other rubbing her crown. "Whereas I am just moving from one snowy land to another at the moment."

The tin is set down beside the tea pot and an appreciative sigh given as she leans closer to inhale the scent for herself.
"Oooh, that does smell good. And," the tip of her tongue peeks between her lips as she eases off the lid from the tin she had eventually retrieved, "it should go really well with these..."

The lid eventually comes free with a small metallic ping to reveal the rich, buttery shortbread inside. Her smile highly mischievous as she leans a little closer and waves the opened tin towards him.

"Care for a taste now or should we wait for the tea?"

 

[Scuttle Buttin']

The laughter that escapes from him, jumps out from him really, is more of a blurt than anything else, and he is tempted to cover his mouth to try and retroactively stop it's escape. Instead, he drops the scoop of tea leaves into the pot and then leans away from the counter to look down towards where she is half in the cupboard.

Okay, and maybe he glances at the curve of her hips. She's clearly not seriously hurt, it's okay.

His brows are raised as she pulls back and rises to her feet, watching her rub the top of her head where she thunked it in the cupboard. Still, seemingly no worse for the wear, he shakes his head at her with a final, short laugh and turns his attention back to the tea. Two more scoops are added to the steel mesh basket, and the lid on the canister is replaced just as the lid for the cookies - biscuits - is removed. His tongue darts across his bottom lip, and he grins conspiratorially at her.

"Maybe... just one. To make sure they'll go with the tea, you know. A test!"

With the tips of index finger and thumb, he pulls one of the cookies - biscuits, baked sugar delivery vehicles, whatever - free, lifting it to his mouth like it is made of delicate glass that will break with too much pressure... before biting a corner of the shortbread off unceremoniously.

Chewing thoughtfully for a moment, he nodded then, turning away to open the small, mostly empty refrigerator. A glass bottle of milk was pulled out and set on the counter next to the growing collection of items, and he bumped the door closed with the heel of his foot.

"Mm.. yeah... I think those will do quite nicely," he said with a definitive nod, biting off another corner as the kettle began to whistle. Twisting the knob to off, he pulled open the freezer and grabbed a couple loose ice cubes, then held the rest of the shortbread between his lips and pulled the mesh free to drop them into the pot. The mesh with the loose leaves was replaced, and he lifted the kettle, pouring the water through the leaves until it had nearly filled the pot to the top.

Kettle replaced, pot lid replaced, he removed the lid of the warmer, then looked at her a bit quizzically.

"Any idea where we might find a tea light or two?"

 

[Britwitch]

She watches him taste the sugar encrusted slice of shortbread with a keen eye. Watching the motion of his lips, the drawing in of his cheeks.

She's thinking how it must taste. Buttery and rich, but smooth and light.
She's definitely not thinking about his mouth. Definitely not. Not imagining nibbles and licks...and bites.

She clears her throat softly while she waits for his opinion.

Not for the feel of his tongue and teeth. Definitely not.

Another clearing of throat and she has to hope she's not blushing too much.

"Glad you like it! I think it'll go very nicely indeed."

His hands then move elegantly and smoothly to set the tea to steep. Water, leaves, fingers dancing through the water vapour. And then a pause.

"Tealights." She repeated. Chewing on her lower lip as she considered where they might be hiding. "Tealights."

"I think...I'm fairly confident I saw a box with candles in the other room," with a nod she turned away and headed into the main room. The fire now dancing merrily and heating the room more than a little. The old cabin is littered with treasures. Old books, old games. Everything a little worn but lovingly taken care of.

After a brief search of a bookcase, she finds what she's looking for. A small wooden box without a lid. Someone's personal project no doubt. When the eye looked carefully it was clear the lines were not quite straight and the joints a little questionable. But it was sturdy and currently full of tealights and candles.

Carrying it back she held it out hopefully.

"How many do you need?"

 

[Scuttle Buttin']

There is a little color in her cheeks, swimming admit the freckles that dust them, and his eyes narrow just slightly as he catches this. Brows twitch. A grin plays at his lips, and his gaze falls to her own as her teeth worry one in consideration.

The lid is placed atop the teapot then, a little clink of cast iron coming together so the heat is kept in the tea as it steeps, and then his head turns, watching the sway of her hips as she disappears into the next room. Turning away, he opened another cupboard door, eyes scanning in search of two cups. Not too big, so the tea wouldn't cool as it sat waiting for their next drink, but not too small so they weren't pouring after every other drink.

A small gathering of clear glass cups was found, and he filled each hand with one and set them on the counter beside the pot of steeping tea. Bending, he tipped the lid of the pot up to release some of the steam and inhaled deeply, his eyes closing as the scent of the blended Assam and Ceylon black teas drifted up to him.

Footfalls behind him announced her return, and he let the lid fall closed and straightened, turning to find her with a handmade wooden box in her hands.

"Nice find, freckles! Let's say.. two? If no one else happens to show up, I think it may take us a little longer to go through all of this. Besides," he said with a grin, turning back to the tea pot, "Knowing us, this won't be the only one we make."

The lid was removed fully this time and set on the counter, and he pulled the mesh strainer with expanded leaves out of the pot, holding it above the open mouth of the pot for a moment to let the tea drain out. The strainer and leaves were set aside in the sink then, and the lid replaced on the pot. Lifting it by the lid, he pinched his thumb and forefinger together against the interior of each glass cup. Turning back to her then, he nodded towards the counter.

"Can you manage the milk and the warmer, and we can take this into the other room with the fire?"

 

[Britwitch]

"I should think so," she nods, "just about," giving a wink before she lights the tealights in the warmer and then bring the match close to her lips to extinguish the flame with a quickly expelled breath. Carefully tucking the tin of shortbread under one arm before using her hands to pick up the milk and the warmer with it's small candles dancing inside, she turns to follow him into the other room.

The scent of burning logs fills the room and makes her smile. There's something about an open fire and that smell that instantly makes her feel at ease.

The other room is a mismatched blend of furniture, ancient looking wooden dining chairs pushed under equally old looking tables and then soft, inviting couches and armchairs nearer the flames. Clearly designed for relaxing in. Conveniently a low table had been placed in the centre and was in just the right place to set up their tea. Warmer with pot carefully placed on top, milk and cups to the side and the tin of biscuits just waiting to be opened.

Sitting on one of the couches she pats the space beside her with a thoroughly mischievous grin in his direction.
"Care to join me?"

"And do you want to pour? Or should I play mother?"

"This is lovely," she sighs happily, "quaint old cabin, a fire dancing in the fireplace, beautiful snow covered scenery beyond the windows - it's like Narnia out there! Charming company topped off with tea and shortbread. What could be more perfect?"

 

[Britwitch]

Smiling as she tries not to shiver, Brit hangs up a sign on the door to the cabin.

The time has come to move on. The seasons are changing and so a new location seems more suitable...all are invited to check out The Lounge's Secret Garden!

The cabin is now closed for the season.

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