Peaceful Farming (30)

When they finally made their way back to the farmhouse, their limbs were rigid with cold, but the fences stood firm once more—just as they always would, for as long as they were willing to tend to them.

By the time evening fell, the snowfall had thickened into a near-whiteout, swirling fiercely beyond the farmhouse windows. The wind howled against the walls, rattling shutters and piling snow high against the doorframe, but inside, the world was warm and safe, filled with the rich scent of a meal simmering over the fire.

Arpious stomped the last of the snow from her boots before stepping inside, carrying an armful of firewood from the freshly stocked pile outside. She stacked it neatly by the hearth, the heat of the crackling flames already beginning to seep into her cold limbs. A deep sigh left her lips as the warmth chased away the lingering bite of the storm.