The Huntress awoke to the sound of her door clacking against its frame. Thoughts splashed into her mind like a bucket of thrown water; did I lock the door? is someone here? is someone trying to kill me? The darkness provided no answers.
After a minute of careful listening, the Huntress lit up the oil lamp she kept near her bed. Everything in her room was in its place. The antlered elk-head trophy's eyes reflected the light from the small lamp. So too did the polished rifle leaning against the wall she had used to claim the elk's life. She slid out of bed and chose to take the light instead of the rifle as she entered the main room of the cabin.
A historic place, the cabin had been used by hunters for untold years. When the previous owner had come to ruin, the Huntress picked it up for cheap. It wasn't much - a main room took up half the house and the other half was split into a bedroom and a kitchen - but the place had a charm. The fireplace in the center heated all three rooms when called upon to do so and the thick logs kept the temperature fairly consistent. The Huntress liked the place for what it was and where it was: nowhere close to anyone else.
She surveyed the damage. Someone had forced the door and opened a few cabinets. The valuables, however, seemed untouched. The nook where she kept her keys and her coins was still full of both. Even a rock that gleamed with a seam of gold lay undisturbed on the table. What treasure was this intruder after? What reason could they have had for entering?
These questions ran circles around the Huntress's mind as she locked and braced the door. They swirled as she lay awake in bed, staring at the rough timber roof. As she lay, her body spoke to her. It wasn't a long leap from what her body said to the machinations of the intruder; she needed to pee and that bastard had stolen her toilet paper!
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