Nowhere to hide

The home inside Silverhill felt so different to the one Michael had grown accustomed to in Aetheria. Isabelle's house was quaint, bigger than Michael's old home, but crammed and full with all the siblings Isabelle had. It smelled of wood smoke, manure, sheep cheese and whatever was cooking in the ever busy kitchen. It was colorful and soft, with rough woolen carpets on the floor, decorated with floral patterns, soft couches and pillows, lovely soft mattresses filled with wool.

They ate a nourishing meal, accompanied by Michael's dwindling supplies he had brought from home. There was so much noise and laughter that Michael could barely hear himself.