I deeply crave living in a cabin out in a forest or a mountain by the sea. Dressing in wool or flax tunics and cloaks to keep warm when going out to chop firewood for the hearth. Rushing in and preserving as much of the autumn harvest as possible to sate my stomach until spring. Ice fishing or, when I'm lucky, catching a deer with my bow in the dead of winter when all else fails. Honoring the fallen prey by using every piece, be it meat for hunger, bone for tools, or the skins and furs for warmth, comfort, and storing drinkable water. Hand-dipping candles from gathered beeswax for a source of light when the nights are long. Storing apples and honey in the form of mead to sip on while weaving new tapestries for the still barren walls. Singing to the winter moon while soaking in an ice bath to revitalize.
