The figure facing him was that of a beautiful woman in her mid twenties. She smiled at him slowly and lowered her hood. “You look hungry, and cold.” She said in a singsongy voice.

“Yes, but I just want to get home.” Thomas replied though the warm fire and table she was now beckoning to looked so inviting.

“Please sit.” She pressed him and he broke down and sat. She walked over to a chest near the wall on which sat a bowl of water and she took out a cloth which she dipped into the bowl and then walked back over to Thomas.

He hesitated for a moment but then let her dap it against his forehead. The cloth was warm, and it felt good. When she brought it off he could see his blood coating the cloth.

She rang the cloth out into the water and it turned a pinkish hue. She brought it back over and motioned for him to take it. Then she walked back to the fireplace where at he could now see a cooking pot he hadn’t seen before. She produced a bowl from near the fireplace and poured some of the contents from the pot into it. Once again she returned to Thomas and placed it in front of him and sat down.

He could smell a filling warm stew wafting up to him from the stew. He only then realized how much he was starving. Putting the cloth down he picked up the bowl with both hands and began to drink the hearty stew.

It filled him with a dull warmth and he began to feel increasingly sleepy.

“Rest.” She said and he felt his eyes close. She took his hand and he had only enough energy to follow her to a small cot on the side of the room. As he laid down in the thick warm sheets his eyes closed and darkness consumed him.