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The Mansion

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The windy night passes. I find myself awake on another blustery day, but a beautiful day otherwise. Why can't the wind come from any direction but the north? The north holds our biggest mountain and it's covered in snow so when the wind blows over it... Bloody hell it's fecking cold.

Coffee nearby on its warming plate, puppy girl curled close by, time to write some so I can start my new thread which has been filling my head with starter ideas.
 
The house is not entirely out of her way, but even if it were...she would still have come. After ringing the bell, the door is opened by a maid and so she leaves two boxes, both black, one tied with pink ribbon for her and one tied with purple ribbon for him along with a hand written note.

To Cait, whom I have always admired, and Mav, who is a charming individual,
A couple of little things for the festive season, I hope you'll find uses for them...
Best wishes to a classy couple,
Brit​

With a smile, she pulls her hood over her head and heads back towards the woods...disappearing into the night...
 
There is a plate in the kitchen stacked with muffins. Some of them look to be blueberry, and others smell like the holiday spice of gingerbread. The smell of freshly brewed coffee fills the air, and she unties her apron and slips it off. There's a special little hook just inside the pantry door that has a sticker above it with her name on it. That's where her apron ends up hanging, as seasonal as the baked goods she's made for the house - covered with it's little gingerbread men with their gumdrop buttons and icing eyes. Auburn hair tumbles loose around her shoulders as she pours herself a cup of coffee and pours equal parts sugar and milk into it before grabbing the handle and a pair of muffins.

In the living room, there's already a book settled on the table as if waiting for her. The baker finds herself a seat in a large, comfy chair - propping the toes of her feet upon the coffee table. After a quick balancing act where she manages to keep hold of the coffee, juggle around the muffins and grab the book - she's leaning back in the chair with the book open on her knees. A bite of blueberry muffin, a sip of coffee, and she's content to fall into the quiet of the early morning house.
 
The smell of freshly baked gingerbread tickled her nose as did the freshly brewed pot of coffee. It was the holidays! How does one resist those kinds of scents? Obviously, one doesn't. Wearing a pink pair of slippers that resemble dinosaur feet, she shuffled to the kitchen to snag up some gingerbread and a cup of coffee. Writing could wait!
 
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