Wrong indeed.
It wasn't just the heavy smell of mold.
Neither the fact that the two windows placed into the back wall hadn't been opened for....how long.
Tap.
Moving further into the centre, it seemed more and more clear....
'Whoever was here, left in a rush.'
Tap. Tap.
Their boots shifted over the lifted boards, each step groaning the silence, as Riven's head scanned everything the room had to offer.
To their left, a second door waited; its surface cracked with dark lines and indents.
A discovery that was delayed shortly.
Creak.
The room hadn't held a lot of furniture, apart from the slanted table and broken chair prostrated on the floor.
'It's small'.
And the size wasn't beneficial for more than one occupant.
'Where did you go?'
Riven's mind wandered.
The energy around felt void.
There was table but no sink?
No utensils?
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Behind him, soft steps travelled.
He turned just enough to see Saphira standing before the door to the left, her breath spilling white against the cracked wood.
Riven parted his lips to speak--
Creak.
The door shifted before he could.
Saphira's hand had already pushed forward, the wood groaning as it swung.
Wooooh!
Cold air seeped through the cracks.
Inside, the room was bare.
But it was also dark.
Not a desk.
Not a chest.
Nothing.
Only a broken bed-frame in the corner, its planks jutted forward like broken limbs, whilst a single window rested firm on the wall to the side.
But this window....
"It's... barricaded?" Saphira's breath caught.
A slow question.
One that seemed to lower the temperature slightly.
Riven's chest tightened as the words reached his ears...
'Barricaded?'
He stepped closer.
Tap. Tap.
Upon seeing the room; his eyes travelled to the bed first.
The jutted planks.
Whoever lived here, had left in a rush before fixing the shell they had rested upon.
But the real tension came from the window.
For the boards didn't appear to be nailed from the outside; they'd been hammered shut from within.
Riven's jaw tightened.
The silence pressed heavier than before as his grey eyes stared at the chipped wood covering the white glow from the outside.
'Why board from within?'
A crease pressed his forehead, as Saphira stood to the side of him.
Breaths painting the dark room pale.
Creak.
"...Nothing. There's nothing here." Saphira whispered low, her voice trembling slightly.
Woooooh!
Could this be called a house?
'Hopefully it's not all like this...'
"Haa...."
Riven's short breath clouded the air as his eyes lingered a moment longer on the barricaded window.
He turned back to her, after he took a long blink.
"Come on", he said quietly. "Let's check the next one."
The words didn't sound hopeful.
It sounded necessary.
Saphira gave a small nod.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Together, they stepped back into the cold.
Creak!
WOOOOOOH!
The wind met them instantly.
A friendly welcome back, as snow swirled around their ankles, as they crossed ahead.
Crunch. Crunch.
Rows of hushed houses lined their way, their windows frosted like hollow eyes.
"Haaa!"
The second door loomed right ahead, crooked in frame, the frost clung thick.
Riven's fur-covered hand reached out first, brushing the handle with his glove.
He took one look at Saphira, as his other hand flirted with Mael's Fang.
She was ready.
Cr-eakk!
The door resisted at first.
The wood bending slightly before giving way.
A deeper cold rolled out this time, biting sharper than the last.
Wooooh!
Inside, the air felt heavier.
Not like the stale emptiness of the first house.
This one still carried faint traces of life.
Faint.
'Lingering...'
A table stood near the centre, one leg broken so it leaned at an awkward angle. Frozen bowls sat upon its surface, thin cracks etching the cutlery through what little food remained inside.
A spoon laid on the ground, snapped roughly in half.
"Someone was here," Saphira whispered, her voice tight as her eyes darted from wall to wall.
It was clear.
More clear than the first.
Creak!
Riven's boots creaked as he stepped across the warped planks.
His gaze swept through the room:
A worn out sink, rooted to wall; its edges cracked and sharp.
An overturned chair propped against the wall.
A lantern collapsed in shards, frost shading the glass pale.
Beside them all, dark gouges painted the wooden walls.
Long, jagged marks, as though something sharp had raked across its surface.
Saphira's breath misted. "These marks...."
It spoke loudly about everything.
Tap. Tap.
What happened here?
Riven moved slow, touching the wall lightly.
Cold.
His hands ran along the jagged marks, as the edges of his jaw tightened.
No words escaped from him.
They both turned further in the room.
Creak.
Against the far side, a bundle laid stiff and frozen.
A blanket.
Too small for an adult.
Too small for anyone but a child.
Youth.
Woooh!
The silence pressed harder than the first.
Tap.
There was no second room.
No extra door.
This room was all that those previous, had.
"Hkk--"
Tap. Tap.
Saphira's cautiously walked forward, her fingers hovering right above the cloth.
She drew back quickly before she could feel the texture.
Riven's grip on his blade tightened, his breath fogging heavier than before as Saphira trembled slightly.
Neither wanted to touch it.
And neither wanted to imagine what happened to its owner.
Grrr!
A soft rumble ran through their stomachs, lighting up the silence.
"Haa...." "Hkk---"
Saphira's throat tightened. "...Let's check the next one,"
The words flowed too quickly, almost tripping over themselves.
She didn't want to stay here.
"...Yeah."
Neither did he.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Creak.
The door creaked open, before sealing shut.
WOOOH!
The cold bit them sharp, as their breaths fogged the air.
"Haaa!!"
Their silhouettes spoke loudly in such an empty street.
Crunch. Crunch.
Riven's eyes drifted to the middle of the "street".
The mounds in the snow hadn't moved, hadn't shifted; their shapes gnawed at him.
Too uneven to slabs of stone.
Too round to be wood.
Crunch. Crunch.
His head turned back, staring at the house just ahead.
He almost paused in his steps....as its shadow pressed heavier than the rest.
A prickle ran down his neck, as Saphira walked at his side, before overtaking him.
Crunch. Crunch.
WOOOOOOOOOOH!
He stepped forward anyway, one hand rubbing the hilt at his side.
Almost for comfort.
Whilst the other swayed.
Crun--Tap.
Steps crossed the border of snow to wood as the two stood right in front of the door.
A look exchanged.
One they had grown used to as grey eyes met crimson.
Creak....
The door creaked, as it opened.
It held less of a slight struggle than the second.
Tap.
Here? Dust clung heavy.
Disturbed only by the faint draft seeping through a cracked window.
Creak.
The door shut behind them.
Broken shelves lined one wall, their contents scattered long ago.
Woooh!
A table with no leg laid flat; only its wide surface covering the wooden floor, almost as an extra layer.
A sink in the corner; cracked utensils and cutlery laid inside.
It seemed used....
But not as recent as the second house.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Saphira wandered off to the right as Riven walked to the left.
"Hmm..."
Marks carved into the wood drew his attention.
They weren't random or rough like the second.
They were precise.
Drew with intent.
He bent closer, squinting at them.
Tap. Tap.
Behind him, the steps of Saphira flowed through the room.
"Riven..." Saphira's voice travelled, soft in cadence.
He turned, attention drawn away.
In her hands, half-covered in dust, lay a small leather-wrapped book. It's cover was frayed, and corners were chewed; almost as if time itself had taken a bite.
She palmed it carefully.
"Found this."
A small squint from Riven's eyes signalled his confusion.
"What is it?" he asked, voice low as as their breaths clouded the space between.
A pause flowed as her fingers tightened its worn leather.
Her lips pressed thin before she whispered:
"...It's a diary."