Rather these stories were true or vivid imaginations of the elders were still left to debate. Frank steadied his breathing as he reached the front door,imagining what this woman he had heard so much about from his childhood would look like. Would she be old and disfigured? Would her teeth be yellow as blood pulsed through her gums or would she be slowly dying and in as much need for assistance as him?
Suddenly before Frank could knock,the old wooden door with splintered grooves down the center slowly opened. Frank quickly took a step back as the heat from within the shack sent both pain and relif to his aching joints. Yet what both relieved and shocked him was the person inside,staring at him in confusion.
She wasn't old nor disfigured but on the contrary very much in her youth,about twenty-five maybe twenty-six. She was short and frail with raven black hair,that seemed to reach down to her hips. She wore a beige dress,that was lined with ruffles as if it was hand stiched.
Suddenly Frank looked up at her at her as he realized she was speaking to him," You come inside." She reached out grabbing him by the arm as she brought him into the warmth of the shack.
Frank could tell she had a slavic accent,yet could speak perfect english as she quickly began pulling of his clothes. Hanging his jacket on the rack by the door as she laid his pack by his feet,she then wrapped a quilt made of bear hide around him.
The hide was large and heavy as it took what strength Frank had to hold it up over him. Then gently grabbing his hand she lead him before a blazing fire,setting h in m in a wooden chair that was appeared to be sculpted from animal bones.
The woman than shuffled over to the corner grabbing a wooden cup as she did Frank curiously looked around the room. The walls were embedded with moss between the barriers of logs to keep the cold out.
A large grizzly rug laid underneath his feet as the beast's head pointed toward the fireplace. In the opening of the room to his right was a long wooden table,that had books piled atop one another. Large jars were lined along the side with liquid inside along with materials,Frank couldn't make out.
A large shelf was positioned by the window,it's cabnet doors were lightly opened exposing shelves of tiny viles. Or at least that was what the light of the flicking candle on the window seal showed.
Turning back around,Frank watched as the woman brought two cups over as she went to the fireplace. There she grabbed a old kettle that was hanging on a hook over the flames,pouring both cups full.
Hanging the kettle back in position,she turned and handed Frank one of the cups;politely he accepted. Then she grabbed a large chair made of deer antlers and scooted it beside him as she sat sipping her drink.
There was a long silence in the room with only the crackling of the fire as Frank watch the young woman drink. Her eyes never went toward him,instead she just observed the fire as if she was returning to a deep thought she had been interrupted from.
"It's not poison." Her accent gently guided the words out as she never took her attention away from the flames. Blindsided by the remark,Frank asked in confusion,"I beg your pardon?"
Turning away from the fireplace,the women's left brow arched as she smirked in her response,"Your drink,it's herbal...it will help." Glancing down at his cup,he then chuckled awkwardly as he nodded taking a sip of the drink.
The warm liquid was bitter as it burned his throat going down Suddenly Frank found himself strangled from it. Cough to regain his breath,the woman began laughing as he retained oxygen,"ha,ha..I admit it's not whisky,but it goes down much smoother."
Frank smiled as he gestured toward his drink,"No..it's fine,just went down the wrong pipe;that's all." Taking the next sip,the liquid was easier to swallow,yet it hadn't lost it's bitterness,Frank decided not to ask about the ingredients.
Glancing back at the woman,he caught her smiling as if she was holding in laughter at his expression." Thank you for the drink." Suddenly the woman's expression went serious again as she turned back to the fire," You're welcome."
Her accent went heavy with reply as she continued gazing at the fire,then she followed with a question."So what brings you to these mountains?" Frank began to rub his hands through the black fur of the quilt as he answered,"I got lost to be honest,my car couldn't make it up the slopes."
Silence entered the room as Frank became uncomfortable again deciding to ask a question of his own. "So do you live here alone?" The woman shook her head as she stood from her chair grabbing the empty glass from his hands and refilling and returning to her chair.
