On a cold snowy day, in the middle of December, a quaint little cottage rested in the morning light, puffing bits of smoke into the misty shadows. Everywhere, trees grew thick, and foliage trailed about in an untamed fashion, creating a sort of wild garden. A rope of thick, green ivy climbed the sides of the house, framing the doorway and the windows. Two windows faced front. The first one, dressed with a homely flowered curtain, was to the left of the door; to the right of the door was the second window, its curtains pulled back to reveal bright firelight from within.