The glow of the fireplace flickered through the dark wooden walls, appearing intermittently between the gaps in the boards. The charcoal burned quietly, the firelight dancing as if telling a story in a low voice. The white charcoal from the Joia Forest barely produced any smoke, abundant and cheap, possessing all the advantages this little adventure group valued.
Sophie leaned by the window, her hands crossed and pressing on the windowsill, watching the corridor's scenery with interest. The dim firelight reflected on the glass, resembling a star hanging on the far-off horizon.
As the sky gradually darkened, the light in the already gray winter sky faded layer by layer, changing hues from leaden gray to a dingy black. Finally, it went completely dark, leaving only the howling wind of winter, sweeping through the mountains, crossing the long border of the Northern Territory, bringing an endless winter and a spring of the coming year that seemed never to arrive.
