#mcthersdwelling

* SEND  ME  ♊  FOR  A RELATIONSHIP AESTHETIC  OF  OUR  MUSES  !!

evan    &    anna,    the   trapper   &   the   huntress   /    @mcthersdwelling

                HE ISN’T QUITE SURE where the thick forest of Shelter Woods ended and this new, greener terrain began --- the fog doesn’t settle quite as thickly here, the sky not as dark, for back on the path to the Macmillan ruins, midnight seems to cloak the shell of his former empire in a thick black robe, as if dressing the skeleton of the Estate in the grim reaper’s garbs. But it’s somewhat lighter here --- greyer, certainly, mud squelching under his boots as he walks with confident strides through the grass. Everything’s damp from the soft pitter-patter of rain that descends from the sky, no doubt an eternal downpour to soak the chill into shaking survivor’s bones, and as he emerges from the trees, weaves in and out of foliage, generators and rock structures, he spies what appears to be a cottage in the distance, wooden structure almost embalmed, vines and plants hugging close to the building’s frame, reaching UP UP UP into the second story.

                This place is...unusual. Different, certainly, far different --- and yet it reminds him faintly of his own territory he calls home. There are similarities, to a degree --- red stain falls on how large stacks of logs lie scattered close to the house, the cart, how these hooks seem to be fashioned by hand, built by bits of wood tied together. He wonders if the logs lie here for firewood purposes, or if they rest in place for building purposes, like the ones on his own Estate, near the decrepit shack. A scarred hand extends to touch one, feel the roughness of the bark beneath calloused hand, when a woman’s voice catches his hearing, forces Evan’s head to snap upright and his body ‘round, vision darting left and right.