The stone cottage was a sight for sore eyes by the time we arrived just before dusk. It was engulfed in a canopy of green: trees, grapevines, moss, and bushes seemed to breathe in the structure as if it were absorbing it. The moss grew along the stones that made up the walls of the building, obviously built over a hundred years ago. But it also grew on the roofs, made of tree bark and pitch.
The windows had long since been boarded up, and the lanterns that hung by the doors and windows would obviously not work again until they were repaired and cared for properly. At first glance, it looked as if the whole structure were floating just a few inches off the water, but upon closer inspection, one could see the stone foundation tucked just out of sight. Was it to make the area look more magical? If so, it was achieving the goal! But that wasn’t what we were here for. We needed a place to lay low until all the commotion was over, and people started looking for other houses and businesses to loot. We chose this space because it looked like it had nothing to offer but perhaps a few well-earned ghost stories. I looked back at Ben, who leaned on his walking staff for some rest and support. “What d’ya think?”
He shrugged at first, then nodded with raised eyebrows. “I think it could be exactly what we’re looking for!”
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